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FROM THE BSqUEST OF
MRS. ANNE E. P. SEVER,
OF BOSTON,
Widow of Col. James Warren Sevek,
(Class of 1817)
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THE
Canadian Magazine
OF POLITICS, SCIENCE,
ART AND LITERATURE
VOL. XXIII
MAY, 1904-OCTOBER, 1004. INCLUSIVE
TORONTO
THE ONTARIO PUBLISHING C0», Limited
1004
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CONTENTS OF VOLUME XXIII
MAY, 1904-OCTOBER, 1904
FRONTISPIECES
PAGE
Two Canadians Painted by Paul Wickson 2
Sunset on The Bay of Fundy From a Photograph 88
Trout Fishing From a Photograph 194
Bic, The Beautiful From a Photograph 202
Atlantic Surf, near Halifax From a Photograph 390
Gathering Ferns, P.E I From a Photograph 488
ARTICLES
Agricultural vs. Manufacturing Profits Archibald Blue. 523
Ames, Herbert Brown With Portrait Albert R. Carman. 308
Amusement in Statistics Stambury R, Tarr. 167
Annapolis Royal Illustrated Judge A. W. Savary. 333
Art of Paul Wickson Illustrated T. G, Marquis. 3
Automobiles of 1904 Illustrated T. A. Russell. 141
Automobile Races, First Illustrated Fergus Kyle. 429
Bay of Fundy, Outing on Illustrated F. C. Sears. 200
Bella Coola Illustrated Iver Fougner. 525
Blowitz (de), Memoirs of Knox Magee. 65
Building of a Railway Illustrated Hopkins J. Moorhouse. 97
By Canoe Walter S. Johnson. 125
Canadian Celebrities :
61.— Hon. J. L Tarte, with Portrait H. Franklin Gadsby. 32
52. — Hon. Richard McBride, with Portrait T. A. Gregg, 209
53. — Herbert Brown Ames, with Portrait Albert R. Carman. 308
54. — Rt. Rev. Bishop Cridge, with Portrait .John Nelson. 422
55.— Hon. William Pugsley, with Portrait James Hannay. 537
Canadian Progress Illustrated 507
Canoeing Walter S. Johnson. 125
Cridge, Rt. Rev. Bishop With Portrait John Nelson. 422
Doyle, Conan With Portrait Haldane MacFall. 305
Education, Progress of Higher,
FOR Women Illustrated Hilda D. Oakeley. 500
Empire Club of London, Ladies' Illustrated Lally Bernard. 195
Farmer and Fisherman Compared Austin L. McCredie. 520
Fight for North America Illustrated A. G. Bradley.
42, 148, 234, 341, 439 539
Fire, Incidents at a Great Illustrated Fergus Kyle. 136
Fire, Toronto's Illustrated Norman Patterson. 128
First European Settlement in Xorth America The Editor. 338
Flowers, the Photography of Illustrated Harry L. Shepherd, 400
Founding of Bella Coola Illustrated Iver Fougner. 629
Grandfathers, How They Lived Illustrated Frank Yeigh. 22R
Hardy, Thomas With Portrait Haldane MacFall. 105
Heart of South America, Paragi ay Illustrated John D. Leckie, 391
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CONTENTS iii
PAGB
Historical Greetings Reuben G, Thwaites, 390
Hydraulic Lift Lock Illustrated F, H, Dobbin, 425
Independence and the Treaty-making Power Professor de Sumichrast, 26
Japan and Russia, The Struggle Illustrated The Editor. 108
Japan— See ** Current Events Abroad.*'
Japan in Time of War Illustrated E, A. Wicker. 208
Japan's Leaders Illustrated ... Norman Patterson, 299
Japan, Through Ikuta to Nanko Temple. Illustrated E. A, Wicker, 489
Kipling, Rudyard With Portrait Haldane MacFaU, 305
Lift Lock, Hydraulic Illustrated F, H, Dobbin, 425
Literary Portraits :
1. — George Meredith, with Portrait Haldane MacFall, 35
2. — Thomas Hardy, with Portrait Haldane MacFall, 105
3.— Richard Whiteing, with Portrait Haldane MacFall, 206
4.— CoNAN Doyle, with Portrait Haldane MacFall, 306
5. — Rudyard Kipling, with Portrait Haldane MacFall, 404
6.— Mrs. Humphry Ward, with Portrait Haldane MacFall, 497
Maritime Provikces, see *' People and Affairs " 376
Matthison, Edith Wynne Illustrated Marjorie R, Johnson, 39
Meredith, George With Portrait Haldane MacFall, 35
McBride, Hon. Richard With Portrait T, A, Gregg, 209
Mormons, My Misconceptions Regarding. Illustrated James L, Hugkes. 9
Nanko Temple Illustrated E, A, Wicker, 489
Nova Scotia, Progress of 514
NevA Scotia, Settlement of James Hannay, 323
Outing on the Bay of Fundy Illustrated F, C, Sears, 200
Paraguay Illustrated Jokn D, Leckie, 301
Parker's ** Old Quebec '* Review William Wood, 263
Photography of Flowers Illustrated Harry L, Shepherd, 400
Prince Edward Island's Progress F, J, Nash, 517
PUGSLEY, Hon. William With Portrait James Hannay, 537
Railway, The Building of a Illustrated Hopkins J, Moorhouse, 97
Reciprocity with the United States Symposium, 407
Reciprocity, United States Ideas of Charles H, Mclntyre, 416
Russia and Japan Illustrated The Editor, 108
Royal Victoria College Illustrated Hilda D. Oakeley, 500
Settlement, First in North America The Editor, 338
Settlement of Nova Scotia Illustrated James Hannay, 323
Statistics, Amusement in Stambury R. Tarr, 167
Tarte, Hon. J. Israel With Portrait H. Franklin Gadsby. 32
Treaty-making Power Professor de Sumichrast, 26
Testimony of the Post Office Norman Patterson 525
Toronto Fire Illustrated Norman Patterson, 128
United States, Reciprocity With Symposium, 407
United States Ideas of Reciprocity Charles H, Mclntyre, 416
United States Elections— See " Current Events Abroad." 574
Ward, Mrs. Humphry With Portrait Haldane MacFall 497
Whiteing, Richard With Portrait Haldane MacFall, 206
WiCKSON, Art of Paul Illustrated T, G, Marquis, 3
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iv CONTENTS
FICTION PAGE
Ballygunge Cup W. A, Fraser, 461
Diplomat's Sacrifice W. A, Fraser, 118
Driver Dick's Last Run I^obeH J. C. Stead, 360
Furnishing of Pat McGuire Winnifred Boggs, 57
Happiness Guy de Maup<issanf. 469
Health of Euphemia Amy Walsh. 462
Her Burglar Eloise Day, 607
Jacko's Jeopardy Illustrated Erie Waters, 433
La Mere Sauvage Guy de Maupassant, 222
Land of Long Days Edward F. Strange, 169
On The Journey Guy de Maupassant, 311
Our Mysterious Passenger Robert Dawson Rudolf, 355
Piece of String Guy de Maupassant. 557
Rrchristening of Diablo W. A. Eraser. 315
Scoring of The Raja W. A. Eraser. 214
Shaw's Comedy Albert R. Carman. 258
Something New in Golf Balls Illustrated Theodore Roberts, 64
Star-Blanket Dufican Campbell Scott. 251
The Last Shot Marguerite Evans. 163
The Necklace Guy de Maupassant. 113
The Peddler's Lift /. W. Fuller. 68
The Tenant Who Rented a Heart Florence Hamilton Randal. 364
The Wreck Guy de Maupassant. 17
Woman-Hater's Stratagem William Holloway. 561
DEPARTMENTS
About New Books 87, 184. 279, 379, 477, 683
Canada for The Canadians 95, 191, 289, 387, 485, oSl
Current Events Abroad 75, 172, 267, 367, 465, 574
Idle Moments 91, 187. 285, 383, 481, 587
Oddities and Curiosities 93, 189. 287, 385, 483, 589
People and Affairs 83, 180, 275, 376, 473, 579
Woman's Sphere 79. 176, 271, 371, 469, 570
POETRY
A Reflection Robert Ellis Cringan. 368
From Kobe to Canada E. A. Wicher. 171
Graves of the English Dead Vernon Nott, 257
Her Laughter Vernon Nott, 74
Japan Vernon Nott. 458
Midsummer B. J. Thompson, 424
Queen's Pawn Vernon Nott. 363
Song of Toil William J, Fischer, 147
Spring in Canada William Wilfred Campbell, 24
The Aliens Return John Stuart Thomson 8
The Forlorn Hope IsabelE. Mackay. 23
The Greater Life Ida Hanson. 538
The Heart of the Woods William J, Fischer. 221
To Isaac Walton .John Henderson. 322
The Lost Key Isabel E. Mackay. 366
The Unknowing Virna Sheard, 354
Transformation William J. Fischer. 438
Veil of THE Soul. Inglis Morse. 636
With Life , Theodore Roberts. 38
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;)Ke[cnes or non. mn i arte, iyuss maiinison ana ueo. ivieret
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THE
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In
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CANADIAN
MAGAZINE
PUBLISHED BY
THE-ONTARIOPOBLISHING-Co. Limited.
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THE
CANADIAN Magazine
VOL. XXIII
TORONTO, MAY, 1904
No. 1
THE ART OF PAUL WICKSON
By T. G. MARQUIS
IT is a brave Canadian who
will determine to devote
his life to art and remain
in the Dominion. Our
poets have realized this,
and, one by one, have drifted like
Parker to London or like Roberts,
Carman and Stringer to New York.
Pictorial art receives even less encour-
agement. The Government has given
aid, but the money has not been wise-
ly spent. Buyers are few, and these
for the most part have an inade-
quate appreciation of the value of
paintings. Despite these facts
several Canadians have seen fit,
after industriously studying
abroad, to return to Canada to
try to live their art life in their
native land. One of these en-
thusiastic young Canadians with
real genius is Mr. Paul Wickson,
of Paris, Ontario. As Mr. Wick-
son has lately been chosen, above
all others of our artists, on ac-
count of his ability as a lands-
capist, a figure painter and a
painter of aJl kinds of domestic
animals, to paint a series of pic-
tures representing every phase of
Canadian farm life for the Cana-
dian building at the St. Louis
Exhibition, it will doubtless be of
interest to the general public to
know something of the man and
his art.
Mr. Wickson is a native of
Toronto, his father having been
a graduate of the University of
Toronto, and a well - known edu-
cationalist. Like many men of real
power he seems, however, to have
inherited his artistic temperament
from his mother. Fortunately for
young Wickson his family removed
to England when he was a child. He
early began to use the pencil with skill
and his parents, seeing the bent of his
mind, sent him to South Kensington
School of Art; and that his pictures
all show power and accuracy in draw-
PAt'L WICKSON
PHOTO BY COCKBURN, F>»RIS
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THE OANABiAN MAGAZINE
THE MARCH OF CIVILIZATION
Mr. Wickson's best known production
ing is due largely to the long years of
study spent in this institution. While
there he carried off prizes in different
branches of study and the school medal
for oil painting of still life. During
his student days the Director for Art
at different times gave him commis-
sions. He was a diligent student in
many directions, and painted portraits,
landscape and marine, in oil, pastel and
water-colour. While in England he
exhibited pictures in the Royal Acad-
emy and other public galleries. Though
his pictures were good, they were not
strikingly original. He had no pro-
nounced specialty and in his early work
he waS, as it were, striving to find out
what he could do best.
In 1885, Mr. Wickson returned to
his native land to marry Miss Hamil-
ton, of Paris. He continued to paint,
but in a half-hearted, undecided kind
of way. He believed, however, that
there was room in this country for a
painter of Canadian subjects, and the
feeling grew upon him that he could
paint pictures, if not as great, as truly
representative of Canadian scenery
and life, as were the pictures of the
Highlands by Landseer, or those of the
French peasant by Millet. There was
a difHculty in the way. Canada is
essentially an agricultural country, and
any pictures distinctively Canadian in
subject must include the painting of
animals. He had now a fresh art im-
petus. Here was a new field for his
endeavour. He had always lived a
city life, and had never been a close
student of natural history, or compara-
tive anatomy, but he industriously ap-
plied himself and very soon had an in-
timate knowledge of the horse. For
several years he devoted himself al-
most exclusively to the painting of
race horses and, in order to see the
noblest of animals at his best, spent
much time visiting stock farms and
stables with the definite purpose of
getting an insight into every detail of
Canadian farm life. He had found his
metier, A painter of Canadian sub-
jects he would be, and the horse, which
has carried the pioneers through the
broad Dominion, that is breaking up
the fertile West and so nobly serves
the mounted plainsmen of the Territor-
ies, would play the chief role in his pic-
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THE ART OF PAUL WICKSON
CANADIAN SHORTHORN CATTLE
A *' Commission" Picture by Paul Wickson
tures. With this aim in life he re-
turned to England and spent a winter
in studying the great masters of the
past and in meeting the more promi-
nent of the present day artists. On his
return to Canada he began in earnest
the Canadian subject pictures which he
has since continued to paint with suc-
cess.
To the larger art world Mr. Wick-
son's fame rests mainly on his The
March of Civilisation, Sir William
Van Home, who is himself an artist of
no mean ability, once said that he
would like to see a Canadian paint a
Canadian historical picture. These
words inspired Mr. Wickson*s brush,
and he set to work on this splendid
canvas. It was first exhibited by Mr.
Wilson, the art dealer of Ottawa. It
attracted the attention of the Canadian
Commissioner, and was purchased by
him as an attraction for the Canadian
building at the Pan-American Exposi-
tion at Buffalo. It may to some seem
a strange whim on the part of the art-
ist to call this a historical picture. But
how truly it is one ! The opening of
the West, and the passing of the In-
dian, the most important of our histori-
cal events, are both depicted in this
noble study vividly and fully. There
is in it **no striving to make the sub-
ject tell by overloading it with acces-
sories." There are no unnecessary de-
tails, and the repose of technical me-
thod, the subdued atmosphere, the
quietness of the setting, the figures
well drawn and easy in pose, all make
it a great picture.
No Complaints is a companion pic-
ture to The March of Civilisation,
Like the former it is an oil painting.
By the end of the year it will probably
be better known than The March oj
Civilisationy as it was painted for the
Dominion Government, and will be in
the Canadian building at the St. Louis
Exhibition. The unlimited prairie, the
contrast between the sturdy settler in
his rough working garb and the bril-
liantly attired mounted policeman, be-
tween the patient plow horse and the
well-groomed charger, make a very
striking picture. In these studies Mr.
Wickson tells a story and relates an
incident, but he realizes that these
things are essentially the work of the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
THE VETERINARY— BY PAUL WICKSON
writer, and while doing so does not
strive to make a literary impression,
but devotes his energy to his horses,
which are the objects that rivet the ob-
server's attention. In both paintings
there is a masculine directness of
brush work, a technical vigour that are
acquired only after years of careful
study and practice.
His Two Canadians has not yet been
exhibited. The writer saw it when it
was in the last stages of completion,
and, though not an art critic, could
not but feel that he was in the pres-
ence of a really great work of art. Mr.
Wickson himself considers it his best
painting. It proves him a master of
composition. It is an arrangement of
masses contrasted, — the light horse and
the golden-bay horse, the blue sky and
the dark masses of trees, the light
green grass and the warm grey of the
road. Over it all there is a sunny at-
mosphere that gives it a remarkable
charm. In this picture Mr. Wickson
will be found to be a reserved and
striking colourist, and, as in all his
other paintings, a sure and masterly
draughtsman. The shadows are well
managed. There is a subtlety of
colour gradation, a variation in the
flowing lines, a freedom from artificial-
ity, a fine sympathy with nature that
is probably without a rival in Canadian
art. This is the largest canvas Mr.
Wickson has painted, and should re-
ceive an enthusiastic welcome from
those who profess a desire to foster
Canadian art.
Of a different nature is the pastel
The Veterinary, Its central figure is
the commonest type of a Canadian
farm horse. The scene is early morn-
ing, and the light of the lamp is over
the figures. This study is a small but
highly finished piece of work.
Canadian Slwrt-Horn Cattle is an-
other large oil painting. In this pic-
ture there is portrayed a group of the
highest type of short-horn cattle. The
animals are standing in a June
meadow. The soft green grass in the
foreground, the more delicate green of
the willows in the background, and the
dark red, roan and white of the ani-
mals make a fine colour scheme. This
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THE ART OF PAUL WICKSON
**NO COMPLAINTS"
A Settler sigriing" the Patrol Report of the Northwest Mounted Police
picture was a commission, and the art-
ist had chiefly in mind to show the
shape of the animals to the best pos-
sible advantage. They are splendidly
drawn; as a colourist Mr. Wickson
once more excels, and the dreamy June
sunshine which pervades the scene
adds much to the general effect. There
is, however, something lacking in it.
The animals look as if they were placed
for a photograph and the group is
wanting in animation and variety.
For his work Mr. Wickson finds his
best inspiration in the country. This
has ever been the case with landscap-
ists and nature painters, — Corot, Fred-
erick Walker, George Mason found
their strength in the fields and the vil-
lages; Landseer's fame rests largely on
such pictures as The Shepherd's Chief
Mourner and The Monarch of the Glen^
and his lengthy sojourns in the High-
lands enabled him to produce them;
Millet had to flee from Paris and return
to his native soil and his peasants — of
whom he was one — before he could
produce The S^wer or The AngeluSy
and Mr. Wickson has wisely decid-
ed to live in the midst of the life he
would portray. In his painting, too,
there is no guess work. All is from
life. The sturdy farmer in The March
of Civilisation is Mr. Crozier, a farmer
living in the vicinity of Paris; the vet-
erinary is Mr. Fasken of the same
town ; the mounted policeman in No
Complaints is Sergeant Wilson of the
Northwest Mounted Police; and his
Indians are natives of Canada. While
he is at work he has everything he de-
picts before him. Added to this, he is
a keen observer and a close student of
nature, and is conscious that the de-
tails of his pictures require as much
attention as the main figures.
Mr. Wickson will in a very short
time doubtless be recognized as one of
the greatest of horse painters. John
Charlton, Rosa Bonheur, Mrs. Eliza-
beth Thompson Butler, Caton Wood-
ville have all treated the horse with
vigour and insight, but it has almost
invariably been the horse in action — in
the excitement of the horse fair, in the
maddening charge of the Scots Grays
or in such pictures as Saving the Guns,
Mr. Wickson has seen fit to study the
horse in repose, the horse as he is
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8 THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
generally seen in Canada. He recog- though his colour sense, especially in
nizes a poetry in common things, and his latest pictures, is exceedingly deli-
does not select the unusual in nature cate.
for his brush. Mr. Wickson has an ideal abode for
As his pictures are studied, the ob- an artist in the beautiful town of Paris,
server will note that the artist is in the The view from his home is one of the
background. He never obtrudes him- finest in Canada. Here he spends his
self. The subject is everything. This, time studying country life, cultivating
according to no less an authority than his flowers and industriously painting
Ruskin, is a mark of true genius. He his pictures. He has always a weU
pleases by no tricks that cause one to come for visitors, and literary men and
exclaim, ** What a clever artist!" The artists in particular find him a most
imitation of surfaces and textures play genial host.
a very secondary part in his work, al-
THE ALIEN'S RETURN
BY JOHN STUART THOMSON
SO quietly the alien night
Stirs in the cinnamon and musk,
And at the borders of the dusk
The Orient day fails, light by light.
It is the heathens' altar fire,
Their unknown god, my unloved home;
But ever as I farther roam
I worship thee in their desire.
And to the calling of the sea
I give thy name, that it may speak
Along all shores, the love I seek.
And somewhere bring my faith to thee.
It could not be I should forget;
My love is only part of thine;
And each long night there seems to shine
A new star, o'er thy vigil set.
All ways are thus love's Bethlehem;
And I shall find thee, for thy truth,
All beauteous in unfading youth,
As passing days pale not the gem.
And in thy trial, thou shalt add
New glories to thy wide sweet eyes:
A holiness born of the skies
And given for prayer to Galahad.
From winter stress to springtide heat;
From pain to promise; frost to flower;
All sorrows fruited in that hour:
Thus shall I know thee when we meet.
Ceylon, February, 1904.
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ASSEMBLY HALL
TABBRNACLB
BRIGHAM YOUNGS MONUMENT
A VIEW IN SALT LAKE CITY
MY MISCONCEPTIONS REGARDING
THE MORMONS
By JAMES L. HUGHES
WEEK in Salt Lake City
revealed many things to
me. I learned much that
I did not know before, but
my learning consisted chieif-
ly in finding that so many things which
I thought were true were not.
I had a hazy opinion that the Mor-
mons were an ignorant, unprogressive,
rather fanatical people until 1900,
when Mrs. Susa Young Gates, one of
Brigham Young's daughters, startled
and charmed the people of Toronto
by her eloquence, her advanced ideas
regarding education and sociology,
her comprehensive enlightenment, and
her strong yet gentle womanliness.
Those who heard her at the meeting
of the National Household Economic
Association, promptly asked each other
at the close of her first address —
** How can that combination of sim-
plicity of manner, practical common-
sense, broad general culture, original-
ity and power, be a product of Mor-
monism ?"
I was still further astonished when I
had the privilege of meeting the indi-
vidual members of the Utah delega-
tion at the National Suffrage Conven-
tion in Washington in 1902. In per-
sonal appearance and in intelligence
that delegation of about a dozen wo-
men stood in the front rank, and would
not need to take a second place in any
gathering of women in any part of the
world. They seemed to have an added
dignity from the consciousness that
they represented a state whose men
were so liberal and so progressive as
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
BRIGHAM YOUNG
to grant to womanhood the right of
complete suffrage.
The interest aroused by meeting
these types of Mormon women led me
to accept very promptly an invitation
to deliver a course of five lectures be-
fore the Teachers' Association of Utah
in Salt Lake City in 1902. I was so
fortunate as to reach Salt Lake City
an hour before the close of the Annual
Conference of the Mormon Church,
and I soon made my way to Taber-
nacle Square.
Brigham Young laid out Salt Lake
City in squares of ten acres, and on
Tabernacle Square he erected three
great buildings — the Temple, a mag-
nificent granite building; the Taber-
nacle, which is a vast arched roof sup-
ported by massive stone piers along
the sides with immense doors between
the piers, and the Assembly Hall. The
Temple is devoted exclusively to two
kinds of religious exercises — marriage
and the ceremonies for the dead. No
Gentile is permitted to enter the Tem-
ple at any time, and no Mormon may
enter for any purpose but the two
named, and then only by special permis-
sion of the President. The Tabernacle is
the place of meeting for religious ex-
ercises, sacred concerts, conference
meetings, and other church gather-
ings. The Assembly Hall is used for
lectures and business meetings. The
Tabernacle seats about ten thousand,
and the Assembly Hall four thousand.
On arriving at the great square I
found a crowd of several thousand
men and women busily engaged in
friendly intercourse preparatory to
separating after a meeting in which
they had been engaged for several
days. I hurried through the throng
to the Tabernacle, anxious to be pres-
ent at the closing exercises of the
conference. I entered by one of the
great side doors, and found a vast
audience of ten thousand listening in-
tently to the last words of President
Smith. He stood in the centre of a
great gallery which surrounds the fine
organ of the Tabernacle, and on which
were seated in tiers rising almost to
the roof the large choir, which took
first place among American choirs at
the musical competition at the Chicago
Exhibition in 1893, and several hun-
dred of the leading officers of the
church throughout the world. Imme-
diately under him sat the three Coun-
sellors, who take rank next to him and
are his advisors. Under the Counsel-
lors sat the twelve Apostles of the
church, and radiating upwards and
outwards from this central group sat
the Bishops, the Heads of Seventies,
the Elders, and other leading officials.
I looked; I could not listen. I stud-
ied the vast concourse for a few min-
utes as a whole, and then began a
careful character study of the faces
within my range. I looked first at the
men, expecting, I confess, to find evi-
dences of selfishness if not of coarse-
ness. I saw nothing of what I had
been led to expect. Those faces re-
vealed intelligence, enthusiasm, prac-
tical sense and intense earnestness. I
next searched for the unhappy faces of
dissatisfied, repressed women. Again
I searched in vain. I saw contented,
high-minded women, calm and digni-
fied, conscious of a freedom still re-
fused to most women, but winsome
and womanly. The Mormon type as
I saw it in the Tabernacle and around
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My MISCONCEPTIONS REGARDING THE MORMONS
II
it may be described as a composite
type which might be formed by a union
of the strong distinctive elements of
Methodists and Quakers.
The President spoke briefly, and
after the closing hymn he prayed fer-
vently and gave the closing benedic-
tion. Then through the thirty-four
doors between the supporting piers the
great audience swept out in a few mo-
ments. The officials of the church in
the end gallery remained for more ex-
tended farewells. I scanned the faces
of the women on the gallery searching
for my one friend in Utah, Mrs. Gates.
Not seeing her, I walked across the
Tabernacle to an old lady, the only one
who had remained seated after the
audience dispersed. I told her I was
looking for Mrs. Susa Young Gates,
and asked if she knew her.
** I think so," she replied merrily, **I
am her mother." So I had the satis-
faction of meeting one of the widows
of the great leader himself, and of be-
ing introduced by her to Apostle Reed
Smoot, now United States senator
from Utah.
Then began a series of revelations
which removed some of my miscon-
ceptions. Apostle
Smoot kindly took
me to the Presi-
dent's office and
answered my many
questions for an
hour till the Presi-
dent of the Teach-
ers' Association
came for me. A pos-
tle Smoot was him-
self, a revelation. I
had thought that
Apostles must nec-
essarily be minis-
ters. I found him
to be a millionaire,
a business gentle-
man of ability and
high standing. I
learned trom him
that the Bishops are
generally business
men, and that the
leading church offi-
cers are chosen from the wisest and
most successful men of their dis-
tricts. He told me that the Mormon
Church at that time had over eight-
een hundred young men and women
doing missionary work in different
parts of the world; but I found that
mission work does not necessarily
mean trying to make converts for the
church. In most cases it means per-
forming some work of a business char-
acter for the church. One noteworthy
feature of the mission work is that the
young men who %o to Europe or to
the Sandwich Islands, or to Canada, or
to any other country to work for the
church, pay their own expenses. It is
a mission of self-sacrifice for the com-
mon weal, and such an experience must
tend to the development of a strong,
true type of character.
I asked Apostle Smoot about the
education of the girls, and found that
the Mormons are more keenly alive to
the importance of highly cultured, well
developed, properly trained mother-
hood, than any other people I have
met. This need is not a matter of
opinion merely — it is a vital element
in their system. I found in the schools.
SALT LAKE CITY — THE CITY HALL
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
JOSEPH F. SMITH
President of the Mormon People
the academies, and the university
that the girls and young women are
receiving just as thorough an edu-
cation as the young men. Apostle
Smoot's sister is at the head of the
Kindergarten Training College for
Utah. She was trained in Boston.
President Smith, the present head of
the Mormon people, told me that he
had sent his daughters to New York,
one to study Kindergarten princi-
ples, and the other to study Do-
mestic Science. The second State
Superintendent of Schools in Utah
was a woman — Mrs. McVicker. The
daughterofSusa Young Gates, after
courses under leading musicians in
America and three years' training in
Berlin, is, at the age of twenty-two,
the most promising singer of Ameri-
can birth. Major Pond tried to atone
for some of the wrong he did her
grandfather by arranging her con-
certs in the great music halls of Bos-
ton, New York and the other great
cities of the east.
The interest taken in musical edu-
cation was one of my surprises.
Many of the young men and women who show special talent for music are sent
abroad for a thorough musical education. Brigham Young was a man of
comprehensive insight and masterful execu-
tive ability. In the midst of his ceaseless
work in transforming a desert into a most
fruitful country, in designing and erecting
the most remarkable places of worship in
America, in laying out a beautiful city, and
in planning one of the most perfectly organ-
ized religious and social systems in the
world, he still found time to study educa-
tional systems, and he gave his people a
system that aims to cultivate the whole na-
ture of the child, physically, intellectually,
practically, esthetically, and spiritually.
One of the established customs in Salt
Lake City is to give an organ recital once a
week during the noon hour on the great
organ in the Tabernacle. Thousands attend
these recitals to hear the talented young or-
ganist, Mr. McLellan, perform the best music
of the great composers.
I found, too, that the Mormon people have
very advanced educational institutions. The
State schools and the Mormon schools pro-
ARTHLR H. LLND vide an excellent education for the people.
Counsellor I have not seen anywhere in the United States
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MV MISCONCEPTIONS REGARDING THE MORMONS
JOHN R. WINDER
Counsellor
a more advanced Normal School than
the State Normal School in Salt Lake
City.
I had believed that the Mormon
leaders tried to keep their people shut
in from the world in order that they
might more easily be kept in the faith.
I found it to be a cardinal principle of
the church to send the leading young
men and women abroad for study and
work in order that they may bring back
to Utah the most advanced ideals of
the highest civilization in all lands.
They usually have about two thousand
young people in other lands, and in
nearly all cases they have been guided
by the church into the courses of study
or work they are pursuing. Most of
these young people have been educated
at the church academies or the univer-
sity.
I was surprised when Apostle Smoot
pointed across the street to a building
which he told me was the Historical
Building of the church, in which are
kept the records of all the individual
members of the Mormon faith in the
world. I was still more surprised to
find that these records include the
children as soon as they begin to per-
form some of the simpler practical du-
ties of the church. The boys are or-
ganized as deacons for certain duties
under the direction of an elder. The
organization of the church is absolute-
ly complete, and each division and sub-
division is a perfect organization with-
in itself. In each of the smallest dis-
tricts into which Mormon territories
are divided there is a house in which
the offerings of the people for chari-
table purposes are kept, and from which
they are distributed by the Elder in
charge of that department of work.
The boys of the district under his di-
rection collect and distribute the chari-
table offerings. In case a widow has
no son and is poor, the boys of the
district who are organized for church
work cut her wood and do other neces-
sary work for her. They are thus
trained in the only sure way to under-
stand and practise the fundamental
principles of community life and of
loving service for the needy. As these
young people develop special powers
or talents, the record is made of their
development in the historical building
in Salt Lake City, so that the church
authorities always know where they
REED SMOOT
Apostle and United States Senator
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
can find well-trained young men and
women for special service. Mr. Rob-
erts, who was elected to Congress and
refused admission because he has more
than one wife, is the Assistant Histo-
rian of the church.
My greatest lack of real knowledge
I found to be in regard to polygamy.
I shared the common belief that any
Mormon man who chose to do so
might marry more than one wife.
Apostle Smoot removed this miscon-
ception at once by informing me that
at no time were more than four per
cent, of the Mormon men permitted to
marry more than one wife. Those
who secured such permission had to
enter a special church order, and ad-
mission to this order was granted only
to those men who had the highest stand-
ing morally, intellectually and physical-
ly. In addition to these qualifications,
they had to prove their financial abil-
ity to justify the assumption of the in-
creased responsibilities of polygamy.
Mrs. Young, Mrs. Gates' mother,
told me that many times Mr. Young,
when refusing applications for admis-
sion to the polygamous order would
say ** No," firmly, but kindly, and add:
** I am sorry you are allowed to have
one wife,'' when the applicant was a
man lacking in important essentials ot
high character. Since 1891 new polyg-
amous marriages have been prohibit-
ed, but the leaders, both men and wo-
men, believe in polygamy still under
clearly defined conditions. The men,
like Mr. Roberts, have chivalrously
refused to desert their wives even
for situations of honour in Congress,
or for other public positions, and the
women have been equally faithful to
their former relationships. When the
United States Government ordered
that every Mormon should give up all
his wives but the one to whom he was
first married, it was naturally suppos-
ed that a great many women would be
left without support, and the Govern-
ment generously erected a large insti-
tution to provide a home for them; but
no Mormon women took advantage of
the provisions thus made for them.
The Mormon women whom I met be-
lieve polygamy to be right quite as
firmly as the men.
It may help to remove erroneous
views regarding the Mormon attitude
towards polygamy to state that the
book of Mormon explicitly condemns
polygamy, but gives the church the
right to authorize it in case the Lord
reveals the need of raising a people of
special power.
I do not wish to be understood as
advocating polygamy, but it is a fact
that the leaders, the Governor, Senator
Smoot, the State Superintendent of
Education, the President of the Uni-
versity, the Principal of the Normal
School, and most of the leading men
in Salt Lake City, were brought up in
polygamous families, and those with
whom I conversed on the subject spoke
kindly and affectionately of their
father's wives, other than their own
mothers.
One of the most prominent Mormons
of Salt Lake City visited Toronto a
few months ago, and I asked a few
friends to meet him at lunch, and in-
troduced him to a number of people,
ladies and gentlemen, during his visit.
After he left I asked them as I met
them how they liked my Mormon friend.
They all said: **Oh! He is a fine man>
but he is not a polygamist." The fact
is that he had three wives before he
went to Harvard to study for his de-
gree. This illustration shows that
polygamy did not leave marks on him
that were recognizable by my friends.
I did not expect to find the Mormon
people great students of the Bible, but
I found it to be one of the chief text-
books in the academies and universi-
ties. I know no other people who
study the Bible so persistently. The
Life of Christ is the history studied
most carefully in the university.
A friend in Salt Lake City request-
ed me to take a message on my way
home to her seventeen-year-old daugh-
ter, who was attending the Conserva-
tory of Music in Detroit. She was
living in Detroit with a lady whose
uncle was one of the most prominent
Methodist ministers in Canada in his
time, and who was educated herself in
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MV MISCONCEPTIONS REGARDING THE MORMONS
a leading Methodist college in Canada.
She told me that she asked the mother
of the little Mormon girl how she
wished her to spend her Sundays.
*• Oh!" replied the mother, ** take her
to church with you, and I shall be
specially obliged if you can spend some
time in studying the Bible with her."
The lady assured me that the girl
knew the Bible more thoroughly than
she herself, or anyone else whom she
had ever known.
I had not 'thought of the Mormons
as a people who appreciated amuse-
ments. I found that Brigham Young
built a fine theatre for his people,
which is still owned and managed
by the church. It was for many years
the custom to have amateur compa-
nies, and prominent young men went
annually to New York to see the best
plays in the theatres in order to select
the most suitable for Salt Lake City
audiences. The present Governor ot
Utah was one of the leading amateur
actors of the city. Concerts, lectures,
and other forms of rational entertain-
ment are attended by large audiences
in Salt Lake City. In my own ex-
perience I have never had such large
or enthusiastic audiences anywhere.
For five nights the Assembly Hall was
crowded, and more than three thou-
sand came out at half-past nine to a
lecture delivered by special request the
morning I left the city.
I had supposed that Utah was the
easiest place in the world in which to
get married. The fact is that it is the
most difficult place in which to take a
life partner, if one is a Mormon. No
Mormon can be married except in a
Temple, so that it may be necessary to
travel very long distances to have the
ceremony performed.
The sacraments and ceremonies for
the dead were a revelation to me.
These may be continued for years after
a man's death by his widow and his
friends. When a man dies his broth-
er or some intimate friend represents
him and performs certain rites on his
behalf. These ceremonies are per-
formed in the Temples only.
A very intelligent and cultured gen-
tleman told me that the writings of
Froebel, which I was trying to ex-
pound, had affected him when he read
them as no other books ever had; and
he said that about twelve years ago
Froebel appeared to him in a vision,
and asked him to have the sacraments
for the dead performed for him. He
went to the Temple and personated
Froebel and received the sacraments
of the church in Froebel's name.
My geographical knowledge w^as de-
fective. I expected to find Salt Lake
City on the shore of Salt Lake. Again
I was wrong. The lake is fifteen
miles from the city. A railroad own-
ed by the Mormon authorities runs
from the city to the lake during the
long summer season, and a magnifi-
cent amusement pavilion, and splendid
bathing accommodation, afford ample
opportunity for enjoyment at the beau-
tiful lake. As the season was over
when I was there, the President very
kindly provided a special train so that
I might enjoy a swim in the buoyant
water; at any rate, I expected to swim.
Again I was surprised. I could not
sink low enough in the water to be
able to swim properly. Lying on my
back, I tried in vain to get my feet in
the water. One of the most amusing
sights to be seen anywhere in the
world is a common experience at Salt
Lake. A man who wishes to enjoy
himself perfectly lights his cigar, sits
down on the water, attaches a sail to
his feet, and holding the rope in his
hand, and reclining in an easy position
on the cushioned bosom of the lake,
sails where he chooses.
The view of the beautiful mountains
surrounding Salt Lake is one of the
finest I have ever seen. When I saw
them the lower third of the mountains
was green, the middle third looked like
a vast garden filled with brilliantly
coloured flowers, while a crown of
crystal whiteness covered their heads.
Time never passed more pleasantly for
me than when I reclined in an easy
posture with nearly half my body out
of the water, on Salt Lake, and look-
ed at the grandeur of the surround-
ing mountains as they were toned
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[6
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
1
<i-'(-
'«*,. -^J*
iriTfiiirfllli
i^
m\
SALTAIR BEACH, NEAR SALT LAKE CITY
This resort is thirty minutes' ride from Salt Lake City. This Pavilion is built upon
pilings, is 1,115 feet by 365 feet, and contains 620 bath-rooms, besides a huge dancing-
pavilion. A swimmer may float on the buoyant water, or move about with a sail at-
tached to his feet.
to richest beauty by the evening sun.
Salt Lake City itself was a surprise
to me. Its broad streets, its fine busi-
ness houses, its splendid homes, its
excellent public buildings, its magnifi-
cent mountain background, and the
crystal streams running on both sides
of the streets, are distinctive features
of this unique and beautiful city.
I had no adequate conception of the
wealth of Utah. Agriculturally the
great valley has been made a vast and
rich garden, by turning the mountain
streams into a great system of irrigation.
Salt Lake itself is a source of incal-
culable wealth. The Mormon Church
has immense salt works at the lake
which yield a large revenue.
Utah is one of the richest parts of
the United States in mineral wealth.
In 1902 it mined more iron than any
other State.
Taken as a whole, there is probably
no other city where an unprejudiced
man may find better opportunities for
studying economic, social, and educa-
tional questions than in Salt Lake
City.
THE IDEAL
BY INGLIS MORSE
r)EHIND each great desire
There lies the dream that dares to be,
Idealizing all
Of Life's unchanging mystery.
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THE WRECK'
By GUY DE MAUPASSANT
|T wras yesterday, the 31st ot
December. 1 had just fin-
ished breakfast with my old
friend Georges Garin when
the servant brought him a
letter covered with seals and foreign
stamps. Georges said:
" Will you excuse me ?"
••Certainly.''
And so he began to read eight pages
in a large English handwriting, cross-
ed in every direction. He read them
slowly, with serious attention and the
interest which we only pay to things
which touch our hearts.
Then he put the letter on a corner of
the mantelpiece, and he said:
"That was a curious story! I've
never told you about it, I think. And
yet it was a sentimental adventure, and
it happened to me. Aha ! that was a
strange New Year's Day indeed ! It
must be twenty years ago, since I was
then thirty, and am now fifty years old.
•* I was then an inspector in the Mari-
time Insurance Company, of which I
am now director. I had arranged to
pass the f^te of New Year's in Paris —
since it is a convention to make that
day a f^te — when I received a letter
from the manager, directing me to pro-
ceed at once to the Island of R^, where
a three-masted vessel from Saint-Naz-
aire, insured by us, had just gone
ashore. It was then eight o'clock in
the morning. 1 arrived at the office
at ten to get my instructions, and the
same evening I took the express, which
put me down in La Rochelle the next
day, December 31st.
*• I had two hours to spare before
going aboard the boat for R^. So I
made a tour in the town. It is certain-
ly a fantastic city, La Rochelle, with a
strong character of its own — streets
tangled like a labyrinth, sidewalks run-
ning beside endless arcaded galleries
like those of the Rue de Rivoli, but low,
mysterious, built as if to form a fit
scene for conspirators, and making an
ancient and striking background for
those old-time wars, the savage, heroic
wars of religion. It is, indeed, the
typical old Huguenot city, grave, dis-
creet, with no fine art to show, with no
wonderful monuments, such as make
Rouen so grand, but it is remarkable
for its severe, somewhat cunning look;
it is a city of obstinate fighters, a city
where fanaticisms might well blossom,
where the faith of the Calvinists be-
came exalted, and where the plot of
• Four Sergeants' was born.
••After I had wandered for some
time about these curious streets, 1 went
aboard the black, fat-bellied little
steamboat which was to take me to the
Island of R^. It was called th^Jean
Gut'fym, It started with angry puffings,
passed between the two old towers
which guard the harbour, crossed the
roadstead and issued from the mole
built by Richelieu, the great stones of
which are visible at the water's edge,
enclosing the town like an immense
necklace. Then the steamboat turned
off to the right.
•• It was one of those sad days which
oppress and crush the thoughts, tighten
the heart and extinguish in us all
energy and force — a gray, icy day,
salted by a heavy mist which was as
wet as rain, as cold as frost, as bad to
breathe as the lye of a washtub.
"Under this low ceiling of sinister
fog, this shallow, yellow, sandy sea of
all gradually receding coasts lay with-
out a wrinkle, without a movement,
without life, a sea of turbid water, of
greasy water, of stagnant water. The
/ean Guiian passed over it, rolling a
little from habit, dividing the smooth,
opaque sheet, and leaving behind a few
waves, a little chopping sea, a few
modulations, which were soon calm.
•• I began to talk to the captain, a
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2 17
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
little man almost without feet, as
round as his boat and balancing him-
self like it. I wanted some details
about the disaster on which I was to
deliver a report. A great square-rig-
^ged three-master, the Marie Joseph^ of
Saint-Nazaire, had gone ashore one
night in a hurricane on the sands of the
Island of R^.
** The owner wrote us that the storm
had thrown the ship so far ashore that
it was impossible to float her, and they
had had to remove everything which
could be detached with the utmost
possible haste. Nevertheless, I was to
examine the situation of the wreck,
estimate what must have been her con-
dition before the disaster, and decide
whether all efforts had been used to
get her afloat. I came as an agent of
the company in order to hear contra-
dictory testimony, if necessary, at the
trial.
•* On receipt of my report the man-
ager would take what measures he
judged necessary to protect our inter-
ests.
**The captain of ih^ Jean Guiion
knew all about the affair, having been
summoned with his boat to assist in the
attempts at salvage.
** He told me the story of the disas-
ter, and very simply too. The Marie
Josephy driven by a furious gale, lost
her bearings completely in the night,
and steering by chance over a heavy
foaming sea — ' a milk-soup sea,' said
the captain — had gone ashore on those
immense banks of sand which make
the coasts of this region seem like limit-
less Saharas at hours when the tide is
low.
'' While talking I looked around and
ahead. Between the ocean and the
lowering sky lay a free space where
the eye could see far. We were fol-
lowing a coast. I asked: ' Is that the
island of R^?'
•**Yes, sir.'
'^And suddenly the captain stretched
his right hand out before us, pointed
to something almost invisible in the
middle of the sea and said: 'There's
your ship.'
*' ' The Marie Joseph ?'
"'Yes.'
" I was stupefied. This black, al-
most imperceptible speck, which I
should have taken for a rock, seemed,
at least, three miles from land.
" I continued: ' But, captain, there
must be a hundred fathoms of water in
that place?'
"He began to laugh.
" ' A hundred fathoms, my boy!
Well, I should say abopt two!'
" He was from Bordeaux. He con-
tinued: ' It's now 9.40, just high
tide. Go down along the beach with
your hands in your pockets after
you've had lunch at the Hotel du
Dauphin, and I'll engage that at tea
minutes to three, or three o'clock,
you'll reach the wreck without wetting
your feet, and have from an hour and
three-quarters to two hours aboard of
her; but not more, or you'll be caught.
The farther the sea goes out the faster
it comes back. This coast is as flat
as a bed bug! But start away at ten
minutes to five, as I tell you, and at
half-past seven you will be aboard of the
Jean Guiion again, which will put you
down this same evening on the quay
at La Rochelle.'
" I thanked the captain, and I went
and sat down in the bow of the steamer
to get a good look at the little city of
Saint-Martin, which we were now rap-
idly approaching.
" It was just like all the miniature
seaports which serve as the capitals of
the barren islands scattered along the
coast — a large fishing village, one foot
on sea and one on shore, living on fish
and wild-fowl, vegetables and shell-
fish, radishes and mussels. The island
is very low, and little cultivated, yet
seems to be filled with people. How-
ever, I did not penetrate into the inter-
ior.
"After having breakfasted, I climb-
ed across a little promontory, and,
then, as the tide was rapidly falling, I
started out across the sands towards
a kind of black rock which I could
just perceive above the surface of the
water, far out, far down.
' ' I walked quickly over the yellow
plain; it was elastic, like flesh, and
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THE WRECK
19
seemed to sweat beneath my foot.
The sea had been there very lately;
now I perceive it at a distance, escap-
ing out of sight, and I no longer dis-
tinguished the line which separated
the sands from ocean. I felt as though
1 were assisting at a gigantic super-
natural work of enchantment. The
Atlantic had just now been before me,
then it had disappeared into the strand,
just as does scenery through a trap;
and now I walked in the midst of a
desert. Only the feeling, the breath
of the salt-water, remained in me. I
perceived the smell of the wrack, the
smell of the wide sea, the rough, good
smell of sea-coasts. I walked fast; I
was no longer cold; I looked at the
stranded wreck, which grew in size as
I approached, and came now to resem-
ble an enormous shipwrecked whale.
'* It seemed fairly to rise out of the
ground, and on that great, flat, yel-
low stretch of sand assumed surprising
proportions. After an hour's walk I
reached it at last. Bulging out and
crushed, it lay upon its side, which^
like the flanks of an animal, displayed
its broken bones, its bones of tarry
wood pierced with enormous bolts.
The sand had already invaded it, en-
tered it by all the crannies, and held
it, possessed it, refused to let it go.
It seemed to have taken root in it.
The bow had entered deep into this
soft, treacherous beach; while the
stern, high in air, seemed to cast at
heaven, like a cry of despairing ap-
peal, the two white words on the
black planking, Marie Joseph,
'' I scaled this carcass of a ship by
the lowest side; then, having reached
the deck, I went below. The daylight
which entered by the stove-in hatches
and the cracks in the sides, showed
sadly enough a species of long, som-
bre cellar full of demolished wood-
work. There was nothing here but
the sand, which served as a foot-soil
in this cavern of planks.
" I began to take some notes about
the condition of the ship. I was seat-
ed on a broken empty cask, writing
by the light of a great crack, through
which I could perceive the boundless
stretch of the strand. A strange shiv-
ering of cold and loneliness ran over
my skin from time to time; and I
would often stop writing for a moment
to listen to the vague, mysterious
noises in the wreck; the noise of the
crabs scratching the planking with
their hooked claws; the noise of a
thousand little creatures of the sea al-
ready installed on this dead body; the
noise, so gentle and regular, of the
worms, who with their gimlet-like,
grinding sound, gnaw ceaselessly, at
the old timber, which they hollow out
and devour.
"And suddenly, very near me, I
heard human voices; I started as
though I had seen a ghost. For a
second I really thought 1 was about to
see two drowned men rise from the
sinister depths of the hold, who would
tell me about their death. At any
rate, it did not take me long to swing
myself on deck with all the strength I
had in my' wrists. There, below the
bow, I found standing a tall gentle*
man with three young girls, or rather,
a tall Englishman with three young
misses. Certainly, they were a good
deal more frightened at seeing this
sudden apparition on the abandoned
three-master than I had been at see-
ing them. The youngest girl turned
round and ran; the two others caught
their father by the arms; as for him,
he opened his mouth — that was sole
sign of his emotion which he showed.
'*Then after several seconds, he
spoke: 'Aw, m6sieu, are you the owner
of this ship ?'
" *I am.'
" * May I go over it ?'
'• 'You may.'
" ' Then he uttered a long sentence
in English, in which I only distinguish-
ed the word 'gracious,' repeated sev-
eral times.
"As he was looking for a place to
climb up, I showed him the best, and
lent him a hand. He ascended. Then
we helped up the three little girls,
who were now quite reassured. They
were charming, especially the oldest, a
blonde of eighteen, fresh as a flower,
and so dainty, so pretty! Ah, yes.
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20
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
the pretty Englishwomen have indeed
the look of tender fruits of the sea!
One would have said of this one that
she had just risen from the sands and
that her hair had kept their tint. They
ally with their exquisite freshness,
make you think of the delicate col-
ours of pink sea-shells, and of shining
pearls, rare and mysterious, hidden in
the unknown deeps of ocean.
<' She spoke French a little better
than her father, and she acted as in-
terpreter. I must tell all about the
shipwreck to the very least details,
and I romanced as though I had been
present at the catastrophe. Then the
whole family descended into the inter-
ior of the wreck. As soon as they had
penetrated into this sombre, dim-lit
gallery, they uttered cries of astonish-
ment and admiration. And suddenly
the father and his three daughters
were holding sketch-books in their
hands, which they had doubtless car-
ried hidden somewhere in their heavy
weather-proof clothes, and were all be-
ginning at once to make pencil sketch-
es of this melancholy and fantastic
place.
''They had seated themselves side
by side on a projecting beam, and the
four sketch-books on the eight knees
were being rapidly covered with little
black lines, which were intended to
represent the half-opened stomach of
the Marie Joseph.
"I cpntinued to inspect the skeleton
of the ship, and the oldest girl talked
to me while she worked.
" I learned that they were spending
the winter at Biarritz, and that they
had come to the island of R6 express-
ly to see the stranded three-master.
They had none of the usual English
arrogance; they were simple, honest
hearts of that class of constant wan-
derers with which England covers the
globe. The father was long and thin,
with a red face framed in white whisk-
ers, and looking like a living sand-
wich, a slice of ham cut in the shape
•of a head, placed between two wedges
of hair. The daughters, like Uttle
wading birds in embryo, had long legs
and were also thin — except the oldest;
All three were pretty, especially the
tallest.
" She had such a droll way of speak-
ing, of talking, of laughing, of under-
standing and of not understanding, of
raising her eyes to ask a question
(eyes blue as deep water), of stopping
her drawing a moment to make a
guess at what you meant, of returning
once more to work, of saying * yes ' or
' no ' — that I could have listened and
looked indefinitely.
" Suddenly she murmured:
" ' I hear a little movement on this
boat!'
" I lent an ear; and I immediately
distinguished a low, steady, curious
sound. What was it? I rose and
looked out of the crack, and I uttered
a violent cry. The sea had c6me back;
it was about to surround us!
" We Were on deck in an instant. It
was too late. The water circles us
about and was running towards the
coast with prodigious swiftness. No,
it did not run, it slipped, it crawled,
it grew longer, like a kind of great
limitless blot. The water on the sands
was barely a few centimetres deep;
but the rising flood had gone so far
that we no longer saw the flying line
of its edge.
"The Englishman wanted to jump.
I held him back. Flight was impos-
sible because of the deep places which
we had been obliged to go round on
our way out, and into which we should
certainly fall on our return.
"There was a minute of horrible
anguish in our hearts. Then the little
English girl began to smile, and mur-
mured:
" ' So we, too, are shipwrecked.'
" I tried to laugh; but fear caught
me tight, a fear which was cowardly
and horrid and base and mean, like the
tide. All the dangers which we ran
appeared to me at once. I wanted to
shriek ' Help!' but to whom ?
"The two younger girls were cow-
ering against their father, who regard-
ed, with a look of consternation, the
measureless sea which hedged us
round about.
" And the night fell as swiftly as the
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THE WRECK
21
ocean rose — a lowering, wet, icy night.
*' I said: ' There's nothing to do but
to stay oh the ship.'
''The Englishman answered: 'Oh
"And we waited there a quarter of
an hour, half an hour; indeed, I don't
know how long, watching that yellow
water which grew deep about us,
whirled round and round, and seemed
to bubble, and seemed to sport over
the reconquest of the vast sea-strand.
"One of the little girls was cold,
and we suddenly thought of going
below to shelter ourselves from the
light but freezing wind which blew
upon us and pricked our skins.
" I leaned over the hatchway. The
ship was full of water. So we must
cower against the stern planking,
which shielded us a little.
"The shades were now enwrapping
us, and we remained pressed close to
one another, surrounded by the dark-
ness and by the sea. I felt trembling
against my shoulder the shoulder of the
little English girl, whose teeth chatter-
ed from time to time. But I also felt the
gentle warmth of her body through
her ulster from time to time, and that
warmth was as delicious to me as a
kiss. We . no longer spoke; we sat
motionless, mute, cowering down like
animals in a ditch when the hurricane
is raging. And, nevertheless, despite
the night, the terrible and increasing
danger, I began to feel happy that I
was there, to be glad of the cold and
the peril, to rejoice in the long hours
of darkness and anguish which I must
pass on this plank so near this dainty
and pretty little girl.
' ' I asked myself: ' Why this strange
sensation of well-being and of joy ?
"Why? Does one know? Because
she was there ? Who ? She, a little
unknown English girl? I did n^t
even know her. And for all that I was
touched and conquered. I should
have liked to save her, to sacrifice my-
self for her, to commit a thousand fol-
lies! Strange thing! How does it
happen that the presence of a woman
overwhelms us so ? Is it the power of
her grace which enfolds us ? Is it the
seduction in her 'beauty and youth
which intoxicates us like wine ?
"Is it net rather, as it were, the
touch of Love, of Love the Mysteri-
ous, who seeks constantly to unite two
beings, who tries his strength the in-
stant he has put a man and a woman
face to face, and who suffuses them
with a confused secret, profound emo-
tion, just as you water the earth to make
the flowers spring ?
" But the silence of the shades and
of the sky became dreadful, because
we could thus hear vaguely about us
an infinite low roar, the dull rumour of
the rising sea, and the monotonous
dashing of the current . against the
ship.
"'Suddenly I heard the sound of
sobs. The youngest of the little girls
was crying. Then her father tried to con-
sole her, and they began to talk in their
own tongue, which I did not under-
stand. I guessed that he was reassur-
ing her, and that she was still afraid.
" I asked my neighbour: * You are
not too cold, are you, miss ?'
" Oh yes! I am very cold."
" I wanted to give her my cloak;
she refused it. But I had taken it off
and I covered her with it against her
will. In the short struggle her hand
touched mine. It made a charming
shiver run over my body.
'* For some minutes the air had been
growing brisker, the dashing of the
water stronger against the flanks of
the ship. I raised myself; a great
gust blew in my face. The wind was
rising!
"The Englishman perceived this at
the same time that I did, and said
simply: 'That is bad for us, this — '
"Of course it was bad, it was cer-
tain death if any breakers, however
feeble, should attack and shake the
wreck, which was already so loose and
broken that the first big sea would
carry it off in a jelly.
"So our anguish increased from
second to second as the squalls grew
stronger and stronger. Now the sea
broke a little, and I saw in the dark-
ness white lines appearing and disap-
pearing, which were lines of foam;
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22
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
while each wave struck the Marie Jos^
eph^ and shook her with a short quiver
which rose to our hearts.
'' The English girl was trembling; I
felt her shiver against me. And I had
a wild desire to take her in my arms.
' ' Down there before and behind us,
to left and right, light-houses were
shining along the shore — light-houses
white and yellow and red, revolving
like the enormous eyes of giants who
were staring at us, watching us, wait-
ing eagerly for us to disappear. One
of them in special irritated me. It
went out every thirty seconds and it
lit up again as soon. It was indeed
an eye, that one, with its lid carelessly
lowered over its fiery look.
'* From time to time the Englishman
struck a match to see the hour; then
he put his watch back in his pocket.
Suddenly he said to me, over the heads
of his daughters, with a gravity which
was supreme, * I wish you a Happy
New Year, M6sieu.'
'Mt was midnight. I held out my
hand which he pressed. Then he said
something in English, and suddenly he '
and his daughter began to sing ^ God
Save the Queen,* which rose through
the black and silent air and vanished
into space.
*' At first I felt a desire to laugh;
then I was seized by a strong, fantas-
tic emotion.
'' It was something sinister and
superb, this chant of the shipwrecked*,
the condemned, something like a pray-
er and also like something grander,
something comparable to the ancient
sublime * Ave Caesar morituri te salu-
tamus.'
*' When they had finished I asked
my neighbour to sing a ballad alone, a
legend, anything she liked, to make us
forget our terrors. She consented,
and immediately her clear young voice
flew off into the night. She sang
something which was doubtless sad,
because the notes were long drawn
out, issued slowly from her mouth and
hovered, like wounded birds, above
the waves.
'* The sea was rising now and beat-
ing upon our wreck. As for me, I
thought only of that voice. And I
thought also of the sirens. If a ship
had passed near by us what would the
sailors have said ? My troubled spirit
lost itself in the dream. A siren! Was
she not really a siren, this daughter of
the sea, who had kept me on this
worm-eaten ship, and who was soon
about to go down with me deep into
the waters ?
'^ But suddenly we were all five roll-
ing on the deck, because the Marie
Joseph had sunk on her right side.
The English girl had fallen across me,
and before I knew what I was doing,
thinking that my last moment had
come, I had caught her in my arms
and kissed her cheek, her temple and
her hair.
*'The ship did not move again, and
we, we also, remained motionless.
** The father said • Kate!' The one
whom I was holding answered 'Yes,' and
made a movement to free herself. And
at that moment I should have wished
the ship to split in two and let me fall
with her into the sea.
** The Englishman continued: * A
little rocking; it's nothing. 1 have
my three daughters safe.'
*' Not having seen the oldest, he had
thought she was lost overboard.
'* I rose slowly, and suddenly I made
out a light on the sea quite near us. I
shouted; they answered. It was a
boat sent out in search of us by the
hotel- keeper, who had guessed at our
imprudence.
<< We were saved. I was in despair.
They picked us off our raft, and they
brought us back to Saint-Martin.
*' The Englishman was now rubbing
his hands and murmuring: ' A good
supper! A good supper!'
<< We did sup. I was not gay. I
regretted the Marie Joseph,
** We had to separate the next day,
after much handshaking and many
promises to write. They departed for
Biarritz. I was not far from following
them.
<* I was hard hit; I wanted to ask
this little girl in marriage. If we had
passed eight days together I should
have done so. How weak and in-
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THE FORLORN HOPE 23
comprehensible a man sometimes is! woman I have ever loved. No— that
*' Two years passed without my I ever should have loved. . . . Ah, well!
hearing a word from them. Then I Who can tell ? Facts master you ....
received a letter from New York. She And then — and then — all passes. . . .
ixras married and wrote to tell me. She must be old now; I should not
And since then we write to each other know her. . . Ahl she of the by-gone
every year on New Year's Day. She time, she of the wreck! What a crea-
tells me about her life, talks of her ture!. .. .Divine! She writes me her
children, her sisters, never her hus- hair is white That caused me terri-
band. Why? Ah! Why? And ble pain Ah! her yellow hair
as for me, I only talk of the Marie No, my English girl exists no longer.
Joseph. That was, perhaps, the only . . .They are sad, such things as that!"
ANOTHER DE MAUPASSANT STORY WILL APPEAR NEXT MONTH
THE FORLORN HOPE
BY ISABEL E. MACKAV
/^NE saw the coming doom and was afraid,
^^ And said, ''My friends, the cause for which you dare
Is just and worthy, and it has my prayer —
My time and money are engaged elsewhere."
Another said, " 'Twas a good cause and true.
Not until men condemned it did I doubt,
' Vox populi, vox Dei ' and all that —
I think 'twere wise and prudent to step out!"
And still another mused, ''AH hope is lost.
It was a righteous cause, but then, you see
I'm older than I was, in fact I feel
Too much excitement is not good for me."
Another saw the cloud against the sky,
Gave health and wealth and all his manhood's might
To fight for the lost cause and prove it true,
His battle-cry " Let God defend the right!"
Alone, against a serried world he stood,
His few- companions melted from his side.
Yet all his life he ceased not in the strife —
Nor had he won the battle when he died.
When he was dead some said, "Was not this man
A little higher than the common run ?
This cause he fought for, surely it was good!"
And so, above his grave, the fight was won.
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SPRING IN CANADA
BY WILLIAM WILFRID CAMPBELL
CEASON of life's renewal, love's rebirth,
^ And all hope's young espousals; in your dream,
I feel once more the ancient stirrings of Earth.
Now in your moods benign of sun and wind.
The worn and ag^, winter-wrinkled Earth,
Forgetting sorrow, sleep and ic6d snows.
Turns joyful to the glad sun blahd and kind,
And in his kiss forgets her ancient woes.
Men scorn thy name in song in these late days
When life is sordid, crude, material, grim.
And love a laughter unto brutish minds,
Song a weariness or an idle whim.
The scoff of herds of this world's soulless hinds.
Deaf to the melody of your brooks and winds,
Blind to the beauty of your splendid dream.
Because earth's hounds and jackals bay the moon.
Must then poor Philomel forbear to sing,
Or that life's barn fowl croak in dismal tune.
Love's lark in heaven fail to lift her wing.
And even I, who feel thine ancient dreams.
Do hail thee, wondrous Spring,
Love's rare magician of this waking world,
Who turnest to melody all Earth's harshest themes.
And buildest beauty out of each bleak thing
In being, where thy roseate dreams are furled.
In thee, old age once more renews his youth.
And turns him kindling to his memoried past.
Reviving golden moments now no more.
By blossoming wood and wide sun-winnowed shore;
While youth by some supreme, divine intent,
Some spirit beneath all moods that breathe and move.
Builds o'er all earth a luminous, tremulous tent
In which to dream and love.
All elements and spirits stir and wake
From haunts of dream and death.
Loosened the waters from their ic6d chains
Go roaring by loud ways from fen and lake.
While all the world is filled with voice of rains.
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SPRING IN CANADA aj
And tender droppings toward the unborn flowers,
And rosy shoots in sunward blossoming bowers.
Loosened, the snows of Winter, cerements
From off the corpse of Autumn, waste and flee;
Loosened the gyves of slumber, plain and stream,
And all the spirits of life who build and dream
Enfranchised, glad and free.
Far out around the world by woods and meres.
Rises, like morn from night, a magic haze,
Filled with dim pearly hints of unborn days.
Of April's smiles and tears.
Far in the misty woodlands, myriad buds.
Shut leaves and petals, peeping one by one,
As in a night, leafy infinitudes.
By some kind inward magic of the sun.
Where yestereve the sad-voiced lonesome wind
Wailed a wild melody of mad Winter's mind.
Now clothed with tremulous glories of the Spring.
Or in low meadow lands some chattering brook
But last eve silent, or in slumbrous tune
Whispering hushed melodies to the wan-faced moon.
Like life slow ebbing; now with all life's dowers,
Goes loudly shouting dpwn the joyous hours.
Wan weeds and clovers, tiny spires of green.
Rising from myriad meadows and far fields.
Drinking within the warm rains sweet and clear;
Put on the infinite glory of the year.
After long months of waiting, months of woe.
Months of withered age and sleep and death,
Months of bleak cerements of iced snow,
After dim shrunken days and long-drawn nights
Of pallid storm and haunted northern lights.
Wakens the song, the bud, the brook, the thrill.
The glory of being and the petalled breath, —
The newer wakening of a magic will.
Of life re-stirring to its infinite deeps.
By wave and shore and hooded mere and hill; —
And I, too, blind and dumb, and filled with fear.
Life-gyved and frozen, like a prisoned thing.
Feel all this glory of the waking year,
And my heart fluttering like a young bird's wing.
Doth tune itself in joyful guise to sing
The splendour and hope of all the splendid year.
The magic dream of Spring I
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INDEPENDENCE AND THE TREATY-
MAKING POWER
By PROFESSOR DE SUMICHRAST, of Harvard
ilR WILFRID LAURIER
has recently stated that Ca-
nada will shortly demand
the power to arrange '*the
preliminaries of all treaties
affecting her trade and territory," leav-
ing to the sovereign the responsibility
of vetoing the arrangements if, in the
opinion of his constitutional advisers,
they conflict with the interests of the
Empire. At the first glance nothing
can be more reasonable or less fraught
with possibilities of danger. Yet, on
reflection, it will be seen that the de-
mand is much broader than would ap-
pear; all treaties affecting the trade or
territory of Canada are to be practical-
ly negotiated by the Dominion Gov-
ernment. If the negotiations appear
to threaten the interests of the Empire
the Home Government may veto them.
Is there not here as great a source of
danger to the amicable relations be-
tween the Empire at large and Canada
as in any method hitherto pursued?
What has been the cry of late ? The
cry shouted forth in meetings, in the
press, in letters to the papers, not in
the Dominion only, but in the United
States, letters written by Canadians?
That the British Foreign Office and the
British Colonial Office have bartered,
have gambled away the interests of
Canada for the sake of cultivating the
friendship of the United States. This
has been repeated ad nauseam^ and
with a strength of conviction that
might almost be alarming, were it not
that there are still cool heads in charge
of the direction of affairs on both sides
of the controversy.
Now, let a treaty afFe.cting Canadian
trade be proposed and the prelimin-
aries— that is to say, the fundamental
and indispensable conditions of the bar-
gain— be negotiated by Canadians ex-
clusively. It is within the bounds of
easy possibility, but not within the
bounds of comparative probability,
that the negotiators would not lose
sight of Imperial interests. They would
be, however, much more likely to
think solely of Canadian interests and
to safeguard them and them only.
Then let the Imperial Government,
forced thereto not alone by the recog-
nition of the fact that Imperial interests
were neglected or imperilled, but also
by the protests from other parts of the
Empire concerned in the outcome of
the treaty, let the Imperial Govern-
ment veto the preliminaries, and
straightway there would again be heard
the cry that Canadian interests were
being sacrificed, not, perhaps, to main-
tain pleasant relations with the United
States, but to conserve the dignity or
soothe the susceptibilities of a distant
colony.
The truth is that it is impossible to
conceive of any treaty afFectii^g the
trade of Canada which will not, in a
measure, affect the interests of the
Mother Land or of some one of the
great self-governing colonies. The
relations between the various parts of
the Empire are so close, so intimate,
the means of intercommunication so
numerous and so rapid, the interests
of the one so inextricably linked with
the interests of the other — for trade is
universal — that it may be affirmed that
any treaty bearing upon the trade of
one part must affect, more or less
strongly, the trade of another.
The very growth of the Canadian
national spirit teAds and must tend to
increase that danger. But that is not
a reason for desiring to check the
growth of that spirit. It should and
ought to grow, and it is for the welfare
of the Empire that in every one of the
great self-governing colonies a similar
spirit should be fostered and develop-
26
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INDEPENDENCE AND THE TREATY-MAKING POWER 27
ed; for the stronger the national life,
the deeper the pride in the country's
success, the more stable will be the
Government, the greater the care be-
stowed upon the preservation of free
institutions. But so long as these
great colonies remain a part of the
mighty British Empire there rests upon
each of them a responsibility which
must be faced, which must be discharg-
ed, and one part of that responsibility
is to consider questions from an Im-
perial and not simply from a colonial
point of view. The annoyance felt
with the British Foreign Office, with
the Colonial Office, springs mainly from
forgetfulness of this responsibility or
from deliberate renunciation of it.
It is easy to affirm that the Imperial
Government sacrifices the interests of
any one particular part of the Empire
for the advantage to be gained by
courting a foreign power, but it is not
so easy to prove that this is the case.
With so vast an Empire, composed of
lands and nationalities so different,
with trade demands so confficting, with
political interests so diverse, the task
of the Central Administration becomes
one of surpassing difficulty, and as it
is plainly impossible to satisfy every
one, the best course is to seek the
greatest good of the greatest number.
In the execution of this policy, the
wisdom of which will scarcely be ques-
tioned, it is inevitable that susceptibil-
ities should be hurt, and that legitimate
ambitions should be frustrated. The
irritation thus awakened is natural, and
no sensible statesman will find fault
with it, but every statesman worthy
the name will also expect, and be jus-
tified in expecting, that the great col-
ony, or indeed the small colony, for
the matter of that, shall take into con-
sideration the larger interests which
have made the course pursued the only
one proper under the circumstances.
But to confine the question to Cana-
da alone, as is natural at this time,
when Canada has asked and readily
obtained considerable and important
modifications of the conditions gov-
erning its connection with Great
Britain, it may be well to notice a
few points which the advocates of sep-
aration— who exist and make them-
selves heard — have apparently lost
sight of, if ever indeed they perceived
them. The examination of these points
is not inappropriate even in view of the
modifications or explanation of the full
treaty-making power declaration of the
Premier, since as has been said above,
that modified declaration still contains
the seeds of possible difficulties be-
tween the Mother Country and the
Dominion. It can readily be under-
stood that at no distant date some
problem may present itself requiring
settlement by a treaty between Great
Britain and a foreign power, in which
settlement Canada would be mainly in-
terested, though it can never be solely
interested so long as it remains a part
of the Empire. Let that treaty fail
through a veto of the Home author-
ities, and it is quite on the cards that
the cry would go up from Halifax to
Vancouver for fuller powers and ab-
solute and final control of all the mat-
ters pertaining to the making of treaties
involving the trade or territory of
Canada.
Now, the granting of these powers
— and it has been said, and is here re-
peated, that if Canada ever asks for
them they will be granted — means sep-
aration and nothing less; independ-
ence; the setting-up of Canada as a
nation by itself, content to rely on its
own powers and to conduct its own
affairs with the various parts of the
Empire to which it had once belonged
and with the foreign powers with
which it must of necessity have rela-
tions.
Has the time come, is the time ap-
preciably near, when Canada would
be well advised to demand separation ?
Surely a moment's consideration will
suffice to bring home the conviction to
every reasonable man's mind that sep-
aration now or within a few years
would mean annexation to the republic
of the United States, and the utter de-
struction of the Canadian nation as
such. Doubtless many well-informed
and patriotic Canadians will deny the
mere possibility of such an eventual-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ity, and will assert that the national
spirit is so strong in the country that
nothing could overcome it. And there
is considerable force in this assertion,
but there is greater force in the power
of attraction of a vast and energetic
country like the United States, and in
the resolute policy of aggrandisement,
of territorial aggrandisement, upon
which it has entered of late years, and
in which it has made such astounding
progress. If the people of the United
States can resist all arguments against
the annexation of lands peopled by
races wholly alien to themselves, if
they still seek to add to their domains
territories inhabited by races absolute-
ly incapable of being, for many long
years to come, assimilated with the
population of the Republic, is it at all
likely that this land lust would not ex-
ercise itself in the direction of the fer-
tile plains and the rich mineral lands
to the north, inhabited by a people
kindred in race, alike in most respects,
and endowed with a similar spirit of
energy and progress ? The desire has
manifested itself already, as is well
known to the most cursory reader of
the American press. A Boston news-
paper has long had as a standing head-
ing, <* Our immediate duty is the an-
nexation of Canada. ** And while men
may smile at this and think it a foolish
bid for popularity, the fact remains
that by dinning an idea sufficiently
long into the heads of readers, you at
last succeed in fixing it firmly in their
minds and making them believe in its
essential soundness. The attitude of
the United States Government towards
Canada has not, it is true, been a very
kindly or even a very courteous one.
The advances made by the Ottawa
Cabinet have time and again been met
with contempt or indifference, but this
is one way of driving a high-spirited
people to acts that eventually will lead
to fusion. The more the United States
market is denied to Canadians the
more will the need of it make itself
felt, and when that sense of need has
become overpowering, men will hesi-
tate less at the method by which it
may be satisfied.
An independent Canada, unbacked
by the power of the whole British Em-
pire, will assuredly not obtain conces-
sions which are refused to it under ex-
isting circumstances. The continuous
and subtle Americanising of large por-
tions of the country will go on apace
and bear its natural fruit; the influx of
American capital and the growth of
American interests will contribute to
the changing of opinion. The sever-
ance of the link with Great Britain will
involve gradually the adoption of other
ideals of government, those ideals be-
ing more and more those of the coun-
try alongside, even though every Ca-
nadian worthy of the name recognises
at the present moment the superiority
of his own system of government.
Then the attraction which a vast body
exercises upon a considerably smaller
one will have to be taken into account.
Just now, as part of the British Em-
pire, Canada is part of a power infin-
itely greater than the United States;,
as an independent nationality, it will
be infinitely smaller.
Treaty-making involves necessarily
the ability, that is the power, to en-
force observance of treaties. Canada
will not be for some considerable time
in a position to enforce treaties it may
make, if independent. And it could
not reasonably appeal to the Empire
from which it had parted to aid it in
compelling such observance. With its
great and increasing maritime trade,
the Dominion would speedily find itself
in difficulties with foreign powers, con-
temptuous of her strength and deliber-
ately neglectful of their solemn obliga-
tions. It will gradually build up a navy
of its own, no doubt, just as it is engag-
ed at present in building up an army
from the excellent and abundant mater-
ial it possesses, but a navy large enough
to protect its commerce in every part
of the many seas will take a long time
to build and equip, just as an army
cannot be manufactured in a day.
Until Canada is in a position to fully
defend herself and to protect the inter-
ests of her people in every part of the
globe, independence would mean help-
lessness and weakness, and the growth
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INDEPENDENCE AND THE TREATY^MAKING POWER 29
of a strong desire to be under the pro-
tection of a power capable of making
itself respected. But having broken
away from Great Britain, Canada
would not return under the Union
Jack; her destiny would lead her under
the Stars and Stripes, and she would
lose all trace of her once proud nation-
ality, and become merely a number of
States of the Union; not by any means
an unpleasant x>r unhappy fate, but one
which would be far from realizing the
dreams of a powerful young nation to
the North capable of holding her own
in competition with the mighty Repub-
lic to the South.
It may be urged that the national
spirit, developing rapidly and strongly
as it has done and will do, would
prove a bar to any annexation or
fusion. But national spirit does not
alone suffice, and material circum-
stances influence the fate of nations.
What is there to keep Canada safe
within her borders as an independent
power ? A mere imaginary line of de-
marcation between herself and the
United States. And greater obstacles
than this have not prevented the
spreading^ of United States rule over
desired territories. The real danger,
however^ to Canada's independence
would arise from the contiguity of the
two peoples, from the absorbing power
of the Republic, from the infiltration
of American habits and modes of
thought, from the gradual adoption of
American principles and practices of
government; the proselytising would
go on incessantly and the results would
rapidly become manifest.
An independent Canada would de-
sire to round out her domains. There
is not much room to do so, certainly;
yet there are still territories which
seem naturally destined to be included
within the political rule of the Domin-
ion. Newfoundland assuredly will
come into the Dominion at no distant
day, yet there is constant flirting with
the United States on the part of that
island province, and there are many
reasons which would make it advan-
tageous for the United States to in-
clude it within its possessions. Near
Newfoundland lie the French islands,
of no considerable value to France,
it is true, since the heavy blow struck
at foreign fisheries on the Banks by the
passage of the Bait Act. But. any pro-
posal to acquire these islands, to acquire
Greenland, would meet with opposi-
tion not in France and Denmark alone,
but in the United States. It is but a
short time since one of the leading
papers in Boston, discussing this
point, declared that any attempt to add
these territories to the Dominion would
evoke the application of the Monroe
doctrine. The argument used to jus-
tify this position was unquestionably
unsound, but sound arguments are not
always necessary when force will an-
swer the purpose equally well. Here,
then, would be a new danger to a
young and independent Canada, and
a failure to accomplish its purpose
would be galling in the extreme to that
proud country.
So far the question has been con-
sidered from the point of view of the
advantage and disadvantage to Canada
only, but there is also the question of
the advantage and disadvantage to the
Empire. Here it is plain that what-
ever benefit the Empire might derive
from satisfying the legitimate aspira-
tions of the Dominion, the loss to
itself, by the separation of Canada,
would be considerable, though not ir-
retrievable. Canada, Australia, New
Zealand are the three great self-gov-
erning colonies that constitute the
strongest portions of the vast Empire.
For one of them to break away would
be to strike a blow at the real power
and at the prestige of the Empire. It
would precipitate a general sundering
of the parts, and set an example that
probably would be followed by other
colonies more safely situated, for the
development of their national aspira-
tions, than is the Dominion. This re-
sult could not but injuriously affect the
interests of civilisation, and from a
purely business point of view, it would
be an unprofitable transaction. The
united force of the Empire, as at pres-
ent constituted, could never be pos-
sessed by any of the separate portions,
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ai\d there is, not now the opportunity
for colonisation under suitable climes
and in favourable circumstances which
existed when the three great colonies
were first founded. Each of them,
with the reservations already made
concerning Canada, could grow into
strong nations, but it is not conceiv-
able that they would exert the same in-
fluence on the world which the Empire
now exercises. And in this loss the
whole human race would share.
What then? Shall the growth,
shall the progress of the great colo-
nies be stayed, or even merely hinder-
ed, by such considerations ? Shall the
legitimate aspirations of Canada, in
the first place, of Australia and New
Zealand in the next, be denied realisa-
tion because it seems advisable to the
lovers of empire that the British Do-
minions shall be maintained intact?
No, there is no reason why these
great countries, why these energetic
peoples should not enjoy all the bene-
fits to which they are naturally en-
titled. The question they have to
consider is simply whether they cannot
obtain all they really need without
breaking away from the mother land.
There must be give and take in every
partnership, and the relation between
the great colonies and the mother land
is now the relation of partners among
themselves, and not in any wise that
of superior and inferior, of suzerain
and dependent. The interests ot the
whole concern are those which must
ever be kept in view, and with judici-
ous and calm examination of local in-
terests, to use the word local in a
broader sense than ordinarily, means
of conciliating them with the greater,
because more geaeral interests, can
surely be found. Mr. Balfour's speech
at Manchester, in which he spoke of
the introduction of the Canadian Min-
ister of Militia and Defence into the
membership of the Imperial Commit-
tee of Defence, has shown how a solu-
tion of the difficulty has been found in
one department, and if it can be found
in one it can be found in all.
Putting aside the loss to the coun-
try which would be involved in the
withdrawal of the armed forces of the
Empire, both land and sea, a loss
which would eventually be made up by
the creation and development of a Ca-
nadian army abd navy, there would be
material and sentimental losses which
have also much importance. The enor-
mous increase of expenditure which
would be necessitated by the proper
defence of the land, an increase which,
however, should already be sanctioned
to a certain large extent, would be
added to by the expenditure required
by the creation of a diplomatic and a
consular corps. For the commercial
interests of the Dominion could not
well be left to take care of themselves,
especially in the face of the keen com-
petition which is every day growing
more strenuous. Under the present
regime Canada benefits, without spend-
ing a single penny, by the whole ad-
mirable diplomatic and consular work
done by the Imperial authorities, the
cost of which is borne solely by the
British taxpayer. Under the regime
of independence Canada would have to
bear unaided the whole of that expend-
iture. And no doubt it would be
able to do so after a time, after it had
developed the vast and yet unexploited
resources known to be at her disposal.
But successive governments would
have to undergo very bitter criticism
at the hands of merchants and others
whose interests would necessarily suf-
fer during, a period of years. And
whether there would not in the mean-
time arise a strong movement for an-
nexation to the United States, so as
to diminish the burden and to gain ad-
vantages to be reaped only by associa-
tion with a powerful and enormously
wealthy nation, is a question which
many would unhesitatingly answer in
the affirmative.
Canada is in the position of the son
of a wealthy family who has had no care
in regard to providing for himself, and
who suddenly desires to launch out for
himself. The easy life hitherto led
changes into one of striving and self-
denial, and the temptation to return to
a position of comfort is apt to be over-
powering. Here again one sees the
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INDEPENDENCE AND THE TREATY^MAKING POWER 31
danger of the sinking of Canada's in-
dividuality in the United States, and
as this is a consummation undesired
by any one in the Dominion at the
present time, it may be termed a dan-
ger. In other respects it is not. For
to belong to so great, so powerful, -so
rich, so progressive a country as the
United States can by no stretch of im-
agination be considered an evil. It is
true that all those forms of govern-
ment of which Canadians are so justly
proud would be greatly modified; that
the special and extraordinary privi-
leges enjoyed by one province at least
would be swept away, never again to
be restored; but there would be plainly
compensations of a nature to satisfy
many of the discontented. Yet the
main thing, the feeling of nationality,
would vanish; that feeling which means
so much to those who now inhabit Ca-
nada, and which they have developed
at such cost and with such success.
Then, again, Canada would lose her
connection with the glorious historical
past of the Empire which she has help-
ed to build up- and so lately helped to
extend. Her traditions would have to
be made up of the War of Independ-
ence, and Bunker Hill day take the
place of Dominion Day and Paarde-
berg anniversary. The feeling of con-
nection with the mother land would re-
main in the breasts of the older men,
but in the hearts of the younger gen-
eration, untrained to think of England
as home, might grow up the feeling of
hostility and mistrust which has so
long swayed the speech and actions of
Americans in all matters in which
Great Britain is concerned. Whether
this is worth the obtaining full treaty-
making powers under the conditions
enunciated by Sir Wilfrid Laurier may
seem somewhat doubtful.
A change must come; it is impossi-
ble, every thinking person recognises
that fact, for Canada to remain in a
purely dependent position and hemmed
in by restrictions that, however wise
and sound when first imposed, she has
DOW outgrowth, and the necessity for
which consequently no longer exists.
But in the discussion of the proposal,
which Parliament will be invited to en-
ter upon, in the discussion of the
measure, which will have to take place
before the constituencies, the point
which all true lovers of Canada, all
real patriots, all desirous of the best
solution of a difficulty palpable to all
men, must steadily keep in mind, is
that by the side of the purely Canadian
interests are the interests of the Em-
pire— that is, in a sense, of the human
race, since the British Empire stands
for civilisation, justice and progress
and liberty throughout the world. The
need is for Canadians to take not
merely a sectional view of the proble'm,
but to rise to the height of Imperial
consideration of it, and to understand
that no department of the British Gov-
ernment is so hide-bound as to refuse
to consider the just claims of the great
Dominion and to do them the fullest
justice. But there is also the right,
on the part of the Empire, to ask that
Canadians shall endeavour to realise
the extent and complexity of the prob-
lems which confront the Imperial ad-
ministration, and that Canadians,
through their authorised representa-
tives, and likewise in their individual
capacity, shall strive to conciliate their
own legitimate demands with the needs
of the Empire at large. If there be
any advantage, if there be any pride^
if there be any strength derivable from
the fact of belonging to the might-
iest and the best governed Empire the
world has ever beheld, then it is right
to make some sacrifices for the com-
mon weal, and to so adjust matters that
while it may be impossible to obtain
all that naturally and legitimately the
country is entitled to, the greatest
good of the greatest number shall be
attained. Solidarity is equally as nec-
essary in the relations between the
various parts of a great empire as it is
between the inhabitants of any coun-
try, between the members of any as-
sociation. Moderation, breadth of
view, thought for other parts of the
Empire, foresight and prudence, these
be the qualities which, in the discus-
sion of this que'stion, men of sense
should bring to bear upon it.
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CANADIAN CELEBRITIES
NO. 51— HON. J. I. TARTE
iOSEPH ISRAEL TARTE
received a college educa-
tion in Quebec, where the
old idea prevails that cul-
ture resides chiefly in the
humanities. This training gave him
imagination. His professional course
in law gave him practical aims. Under
the circumstances it was almost in-
evitable that he should become a jour-
nalist after the Parisian manner, that
is a poet well ballasted. Sir Wilfrid
Laurier began in nearly the same way,
only his studies took the shape of .pub-
lic speaking, while Mr. Tarte's inclined
toward giving politics a literary favour.
The direction their talents assumed and
perhaps the comparative success of
their careers lies in their temperaments.
Sir Wilfrid Xaurier abandoned journal-
ism for the law; Mr. Tarte abandoned
law for journalism. In other words.
Sir Wilfrid felt that the metes and
bounds of the law were just the cor-
rective his imagination needed, while
Mr. Tarte felt that they were a con-
straint.. Sir Wilfrid is a great orator
with a cool head. In his most glow-
ing periods he will not lose sight of
caution. Without seeming so, his
eloquence is wary and deliberate and he
is never more convincing than when he
skirts the danger point. He is con-
ceivably an indifferent editor because
the oratorical style is too diffuse for
leading articles. Mr. Tarte, on the
other hand, is a great journalist with a
hot head and an eager tongue. When
he speaks he is apt to be carried away
by a metaphor. Thoughtful enough
when he has his pen in hand, his lan-
guage as careful as it is picturesque,
his argument as studied as it is warm,
he will chase butterflies on a public
platform. He behaves like a boy out
of school, so pleased is he to get away
for a while from the ordered business
by which he makes a living. Other
men have felt the same way. If poli-
tics is a play hour it cannot be treated
as a duty. That would rob it of all
it^ delight. If the serious view of
statesmanship does not prevail, then it
is an intellectual pastime, and a man
must not be censured for adjusting
himself to all the quirks of the game.
With Mr. Tarte politics is a game.
His success as an organizer in Quebec
shows that he learned all the moves.
His active mind takes pleasure in ap-
plying them. This is the charitable,
perhaps the true construction to put on
those vagaries of opinion which at
times have labelled him as a renegade
to both the political parties. If politics
is a mere mental recreation like chess
or whist there can be no fidelity to any
line of action beyond the immediate cir-
cumstance which is to be negotiated.
The responsibility is not continuous.
Of course Mr. Tarte can make out a
good case by saying that the most en-
lightened consistency is to be true to
one's self. And sometimes he goes
even farther, declaring that he has
cherished the same views all his life —
he has always been a protectionist.
Admitting the force of both his argu-
ments, the chief contention that Mr.
Tarte makes a game of politics will re-
main undisturbed. It is a game that
Frenchmen will relish so long as the
name France stands for glory, excite-
ment and the applause of the foot-
lights. It is a game that ambitious
men in Quebec will come to as easily
as a cat laps milk. Mr. Tarte would
never have been satisfied with the judi-
cious compliment that filters through
to a clever writer. What he wanted
was the thunderous approval of the
hustings and the Parliament, the hand
clapping and seat thumping, visible,
audible, tremendous, which puts praise
beyond a doubt. It is a healthy trait
in any man's character. *Tis an in-
stinct of human nature, which with
some others not as worthy, has given
Canada many a great publicist from
Quebec.
32
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CANADIAN CELEBRITIES
33
As faith can scale great-
er heights than reason, so
the man who makes poli-
tics a game cannot com-
pass the same pinnacles
as the serious statesman.
Without enlarging on this
question, think again of
Sir Wilfrid Laurier and
Mr. Tarte — the one earn-
estf purposeful, straight-
forward, hewing to the
line; the other volatile,
nimble, a truant, always
looking for the pot of gold
at the end of the rainbow;
the one Premier, firmly
iixed in the esteem and
confidence of the people;
the other, having scram-
bled part way up the steeps
of fame, now fallen and
suspected, although unfair-
ly. The public has simply
valued Mr. Tarte by the
levity of his own conduct
and the rashness of his
own utterances. For in-
stance, when he went
abroad for his health he
puzzled all except his inti-
mates by the contradic-
tory remarks that were
cabled to Canada. In London he was
an Imperialist, all-red, British to the
core; in Paris he was for the tricolour,
Gaulois in every fibre. To those out-
side the Cabinet it appeared that Mr.
Tarte never opened his mouth except
to put his foot in it. But his best
friends knew that it was one and the
same Mr. Tarte under different cir-
cumstances, Mr. Tarte who believes in
plucking the day, Mr. Tarte acting up
to the lights, the music, the rare
viands, the dulcet wines and the at-
mosphere of mutual compliment at
those public banquets. If Mr. Tarte
had taken his politics seriously he
would have been more guarded. In
part, too, it was the fault of his prac-
tice as a writer. The method of the
writer is to weigh, polish, condense,
be pithy and sententious, and when
Mr. Tarte is engaged that way he is
HON. J. ISRAEL TARTE
PHOTO BY TOPLKY
calm and reflective. The method of
the speaker is to glow, to soar — pru-
dently, of course— to trick out with
pretty purple patches and to expand.
Tarte the Journalist could never think
wisely on his feet. Attempting to ex-
pand he invariably bursts and his ex-
citable English will usually make a bad
mistake a little worse.
Allowing something for exaggera-
tion. Dr. Johnson** verdict on Oliver
Goldsmith applies to Mr. Tarte. He
writes like an angel and talks like poor
Poll, so far as party policy is concern-
ed. It seems strange that a man who
displays craft and finesse as an organ-
izer should be so disappointing in his
public performances.
Mr. Tarte has been compared to
that other Joseph over seas, Mr.
Chamberlain, and indeed there is some
resemblance in the incidents of their
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
careers. Both Mr. Chamberlain and
Mr. Tarte have left their party twice
and both times their party was in
power. This seems to prove that their
change of opinion was in each cas<e
sincere, for an ambitious man gains
nothing except moral comfort by going
into opposition. In this regard Mr.
Tarte has the advantage of Mr. Cham-
berlain, for, though Mr. Chamberlain
might have had reason to believe that
Home Rule would defeat the Glad-
stone Government, Mr. Tarte could
not have felt so sure that the Mc-
Greevy scandal would upset Sir John
Macdonald. It has even been hinted
that a friendship for Chapleau, who
was being squeezed out of the Cabinet,
led Mr. Tarte to make these revela-
tions and to undertake all the obloquy
and reproach. In which case Mr.
Tarte takes rank with Damon and
Pythias. To pursue the analogy fur-
ther. When Mr. Chamberlain separ-
ated from the Unionist party it may
have been as much his ineligibility to
be Premier as a passion for preferential
trade that inspired him. But when
Mr. Tarte left the Liberal party, not so
long ago, at a time when it was in its
very plenilune of strength, he could not
have imagined that his defection would
diminish by one jot the towering affec-
tion felt by Quebec toward Sir Wilfrid
Laurier and his Government. Those
who call him Judas Iscariot Tarte do
him a great injustice. His personal
honesty has not been assailed. His
department was cleanly administered.
His sincerity cannot be impeached.
The one charge against him as a poli-
tician is that he is unstable, capricious,
easily distracted by honeyed words.
Although Mr. Tavte is again a candi-
date for sanctification from the Con-
servative party, he and Sir Wilfrid
Laurier entertain a high regard for
each other, a mutual friendship which
could not subsist if there was a smirch
of treachery anywhere. He is a
dbughty fighter, although not perhaps
so dauntless and rugged as that one
man who has undertaken, single-hand-
ed, to switch a world-girdling Empire
to his views.
Mr. Tarte has never lacked courage.
His health is delicate, but his enemies,
of whom he has many, have always
acted on him like a tonic. Did his
energy flag ? A taunt would bring him
to his feet. Be he never so sick he is
always ready for a skirmish. This
chipper little man, a bundle of nerves,
would jump off the surgeon's table
any day to take a hand in a fight. He
has had more than his share of illness.
His is one of those rebellious livers
that willlhave to be killed with a stick.
But he is no hypochondriac. He is as
blithe as the flowers of May. When
Mr. Tarte dropped out of the Cabinet
and left not a ripple behind him, he
must have been mortified to discover
that the Minister bulked so much
larger than the man. That is, he
would have felt that way if politics had
been to him anything more than a hob-
by, with a few perquisites like power
and favour tied on to it. As a matter
of fact, the statesman relapsed quite
gracefully into the journalist, and the
editorials in La Patrte^ which had been
his putatively while he was a Cabinet
Minister, now became his authoritative-
ly. Mr. Tarte takes an abiding pride
in his profession, which the profession
returns with interest, for he is a tren-
chant writer. In the House of Com-
mons the Minister of Public Works
was a frequent visitor to the Press
Gallery, and he seemed to take as much
satisfaction from a casual seat in the
humble little eyry over the Speaker's
chair as he did in his more conspicuous
place on the Ministerial benches. His
nose for news, rare in the French jour-
nalist who plumes himself more on his
views, provided La Patrie with many
scoops when its proprietor was **in
the know," and provides it now with
many happy guesses based on what he
learned of currents of opinion when he
was a cabinet minister. As the pos-
sessor of a vivacious French prose
style quite equal to his Paris models,
charged with wit and brightened with
personal touches after the best boule-
vard manner, Mr. Tarte is the premier
journalist of Quebec. The animation
and colour which betray him into verbal
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LITERARY PORTRAITS
35
indiscretions, lend piquancy to his pen-
ned articles, where they can be bestow-
ed in phrases judiciously weighed and
distributed. Perhaps Mr. Tarte's mis-
fortunes are due to the fact that as a
newspaper man he can see two sides to
every question. Perhaps, as we said
before, it is because he is by nature a
poet with a ballast of common sense.
When the poet is uppermost the com-
mon sense suffers, and when common
sense is forgotten or slighted political
parties get bumped. Mr. Tarte has
such a fine literary taste that he might
be tempted to sacrifice a policy to it.
In Canada it is not customary for edi-
torial writers to sign their articles,
but Mr. Tarte's leaders need no signa-
ture. The style is the man.
H, Franklin Gadshy
LITERARY PORTRAITS
By HALDANE MacFALL, Author of ''The MasterfolK ''The Wooing
of Jezebel Pettyjer,'* Etc.
I.— GEORGE MEREDITH
lEORGE MEREDITH faces
life a mighty laugher, glad
to be alive, glad to walk
the fresh sweet earth, glad
to breathe the southwest
winds that blow health into the lungs
of the race of which he is so proud a
bein^, glad of this splendid wayfaring
amid the adventures that make up the
journey of life. And what a mighty
laugh it is ! Right from the deep chest
— setting one chuckling at the very
merriment of it. The finely-chiselled
nose, with the sharp pugnacious tilt at
end, betrays eagerness for the duel of
wit, eagerness to know all, eagerness
to be at the very front of life. The
leaping energy that lurks behind the
dreamy eyelids finds interest in every-
thing. Meredith sees life too exquisite-
ly to be afraid of being accused of re-
garding small things. His pointed
grey beard gives the suggestion to the
strong, clean-shaped head of an ad-
miral of our day. He is of the type of
the man of action. To hear Meredith
talk of the coming youngsters of the
day, asking his keen questions about
their personal attainments, their ap-
pearance, their promise, his nervous
face all alert to know, is to be in the
feverish company of an eager youth.
His feet no longer pace the long
walk up the grassy slope of the majes-
tic hill that sweeps from his doors up-
wards into the clouds, but the keen
brain is as passionately inquisitive of
the world as in the years when his
youth took him blithely walking along
its ways. There is in the bearing of
the man a distinction, a splendour of
manners, a perfection of the carriage
of the body, as of a great man saying
and doing the simple thing with an air
that realizes the word aristocrat in hu-
man shape more vividly than in any
living man. He gives a more profound
sense of greatness than any one I have
ever met.
The suggestion of a delicacy almost
feminine, in the pictures of him, is ob-
literated in the presence of the real
man, whose every accent is virile in its
refinement. Yet in him must be some
.great share of the woman's insight.
His women are in the front rank of
artistic creation.
The art of George Meredith is given
to the optimistic conception of life.
Life is a good thing — a thing to be
lived handsomely and fearlessly, not a
thing to be denied and evaded and
sneaked through. It is God's good
gift, to be breathed into the body, to be
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
tasted y to be essayed. It is a won-
drous romance; and, says Meredith,
•*The young who avoid the region of
Romance escape the title of Fool at the
cost of a celestial crown/'
He understands human nature,
weighs it in the balance wittily and
with a profound humour. He laughs
at its weaknesses. He twits its follies,
always with afiection, always making
allowances for it . He takes no side
bitterly — he remembers always that
every human soul is his cousin.
The artistic use of his splendid prose
is as though some great master made
great music. When the stage is held
by the thunder of the warring elements,
Meredith*s prose swells and resounds
to the din. When he would make
Dame Gossip yield into our attentive
ears some quaint secret, the prose
drops to a suggestive whisper, with
wink of eye and with critical under-lip
protruded.
Someone has spoken disparagingly
of Meredith's '^bedizened phrase/* It
is rather a neat stab. Indeed, the
critic generally represents Meredith as
the Man Difficult to Understand. He
is held up as the juggler of words — the
puzzle to be given up with a shrug of
the shoulders.
As a matter of fact, the whole of life,
every incident, every act, every object
is a real thing, a significant thing,
freshly seen and interesting from its
very essence — and Meredith records
the picture of it, the emotion it causes
within his senses, in the whimsical
fashion in which his eyes see it. There
is a certain ruggedness in his phrasing,
born of his virile love of life. There is
often enough an obscurity of statement
due to the quick, witty way he records
his impression. His original eyesight
bewilders the dullard who can see no
romance in anything not dead a hun-
dred years. He sets down the sub-
tleties of womanhood with subtlety, as
he needs must if the subtlety is to be
retained. His fancy runs riot in pithy
wit and brilliant dialogue, for he sees
life very large and very profoundly.
His defect is bred from his very
greatness, from his brilliant parts.
His love of elaborate subtleties of phras-
ing, and the avoidance of the simple
statement from its lack of colour, lead
him into perplexities. His most seri-
ous defect is a tendency to suggest
only the broader aspects of things, so
that he seems to polish life into a
dandified existence that flinches from
passion and the tender emotions that
are very life. But the report of his de-
fects is exaggerated out of all propor-
tion by the ordinary critic. The big
pulsing life is there under the subtle
suggestion that goes round it, and
wittily and gracefully plays with it.
He lashes at vice, but he kills it as a
cat kills a snake, exulting in his cer-
tainty.
There is no man in English letters
who has been so misunderstood as
George Meredith — there is no man
more thoroughly misunderstood to-
day. I know of one brilliant literary
woman of Irish birth — and the literary
Irish are not given to diffidence — who
in Meredith's presence was in a state
of stammering dread, fearing the irony
and satire of his tongue. Meredith ! a
man with the heart of a boy, the com-
radeship of a subaltern, the breezy,
large sympathy of a sailor, the keen,
universal inquisitiveness of a diplomat,
the wide interest of a man of affairs —
a man to whom nothing is too small
but pettiness, nothing too insignificant
but baseness — a man to whom the sub-
tle brain and the quick instinct of
womanhood have been laid open as to
no writer who has written in our
tongue. A man with a heart as larg^e
as a cathedral. This is he who is la-
belled for the man in the street as the
excruciating distorter of words — the
man in the street who has never even
tried to understand him, but has been
content to take for granted the hee-
hawing estimate of little groundling-
writers.
For him who reads a novel simply
as pleasant idleness, and is content to
float along the stream of a mere story,
Meredith is wholly impossible. He is
too big — too full of the mighty comedy
of the earth— too witty. You migfht
as well try to judge of a mountain's
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LITER A R Y PORTRAITS
37
significance by running up and down a
sand hill. It is as though a roysterer
broke into a cellar of subtle wines, and
complained bitterly of the lack of
wholesome taste, kicking the bottles
dal somewhere about the third chapter
in ** The Amazing Marriage ") there is
a story that would make the whole of
an ordinary novel, told with a beauty
of phrasing that is a very casket of
GEORGE MEREDITH
FROM THE PAINTING BY WATTS
about because they do not hold throat-
clutching gin.
And what a wealth of good things
is his ! Meredith puts more of life
»nto a phrase than many a man into a
^ook. In his chapter that tells of the
^^ement of the Countess (I think
Dame Gossip utters the splendid scan-
gems, uttered in English that is like
the utterance of violins and deep-sound-
ing 'cellos set to music under the gen-
ius of a Handel. It is a chapter that
for sheer vivid art is a very master-
piece. The revelation of the moods of
the dandified gentleman in silk and
satin and wig and patches, with jew-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
elied sword on hip, who accompany the
carriage along the snow-carpeted roads,
having money on this business of the
Countess coming home from the ball
in her coach, or her not so coming, yet
strutting it with emotions hidden un-
der light jest and quip, is a work of
pure genius. It is a chapter that for
downright romance puts the whole ac-
complishment of a Stevenson into the
second place. There is nothing quite
like it in English prose.
Yet it is a pity, as with that other
mighty master of English prose,
Thomas Carlyle, that a too subtle
statement, even of subtle ideas, should
bar the splendid wisdom and the prodi-
gal wealth of this great soul from the
eyes of the ordinary man. The appeal
of all great art must be to a wide pub-
lic. Meredith's subtlety of phrase
stands, a fantastic fello^y, rapier in
hand, barring the way, at first sight,
for all but the wits; yet the man who
will beard the whimsical sentry will
find him a laughing fellow who will let
him pass on giving the countersign of
intelligence, who will let him enter into
a garden that will make glad the healthy
heart of any clean-souled human being.
Young manhood and young wo-
manhood— the splendid imperial age
of healthy inquisitiveness, the age
of the strong heart and the forward-
looking eyes, the age that seeks
passionately, eagerly, at the threshold
of life, for the meaning of life
— these stretch out eager hands to
know what to hold, what to let go.
Give to such the large soul of George
Meredith to feed upon. His books are
the gift for the Coming of Age, He
will hold up no ruffling, vulgar music-
hall hero for a youth to build himself
upon, nor a dandified academic prig
for idol, but a Man — a fellow with
eyes that guard a woman, and with
feet that do not fear to walk among
the adventures of life.
Tender as a woman, strong as a
soldier, lofty as God's aristocracy,
keen-eyed as a man who calmly steps
amongst long odds and fights for his
life, clear in hope and ambition for his
race, loving the very bunglers whom
he whips, the soul of this man is a
lamp to youth. The deeps of philos-
ophy are under his laughing comedy.
From the habits of chivalrous men of
war to the tattle of the ladies' maids,
you may see his deep insight into the
human drama. And in the prose of
George Meredith you may read of life
in the words of a well-bred scholar,
and hear of it in the accents of a clean-
souled English gentleman.
WITH LIFE
BY THEODORE ROBERTS
DEAR, we must up and out. Life will not wait
Like village beau beside a garden gate.
Dear, the world calls; and Love, who knows the way.
Bids us join hands before the fuller day.
Together, Dear, from morning on to noon
How bravely Life will pipe his gladdest tune!
Together, Dear, from noon till creeping night
How kindly Life will lift his surest light!
Dear, we must up and out; and hand in hand
Try the glad vintage of the farthest land.
The world is wide. Dear Heart. The seas are wide,
And rare, new things go by from tide to tide;
And Life calls to us — morning-crowned, elate; •
He'll bide no longer at your garden gate. ^ j
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N seeing * 'Everyman" in .
Chlckering Hall last sea-
son, the writer was con-
scious of two distinct sen-
sations which wound them-
selves in and out and round about the
deep, serious lesson taught by the play
— an undeniably admirable lesson, if
somewhat morbid and mediaeval: the
ane, sadness that so much beauty, youth,
Jife, vigour, should be so rudely nipped
a/most in the bud; the other, a convic-
EDITH
WYNNE
MATTHISON
By
Marjorie R. Johnson
tion that never was a play so admira-
bly adapted for revealing perfection of
forhi, beauty and expressiveness of
face and melodiousness of voice. All
these Edith Wynne Matthison pos-
sesses in a marked degree, and her
portrayal of **Everyman'* from the
time when he first appears on the stage
in all the beauty and joy of young life,
through the ensuing stages of horror,
appeal, submission to the inevitable
confession, penance and the final ^*in
tnanus iuas'^ at the tomb, is a master-
AND MRS. KENNEDY AS ADRIANA AND DROMIO IN **A COMEDY OF ERRORS
PHOTCXSRAPH BY MISS HARRIET WHITTIBR
39
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
MR. AND MRS. KENNEDY ON THE VERANDAH
AT MISS WHITTIER'S HOME
piece of art, so realistic as to seem an
intense, absorbing reality.
It was my happy lot to have a per-
sonal interview with Mrs. Kennedy,
and I found her the attractive, digni-
fied, true English gentlewoman she
appears on the stage. There is a
naturalness about her, an unaffected-
ness, an absence of self-consciousness
which reveal a genuine soul, one that
would be true in whatever life-work
she might undertake.
She is a great favourite with her
associates in the dramatic profession.
She and Miss Dorothy Mahomed, the
lady who is called **Dyscrecion'* in the
play, are fast friends, the latter an
ardent admirer of Mrs. Kennedy.
We spoke of Canada, where the
gifted actress has many friends in To-
ronto, Montreal and Ottawa, her
memories of all the friends she had
made being very pleasant.
**How splendid it is that you and
Mr. Kennedy can be together," was
remarked.
**Yes," was the reply; **it is a great
comfort. We have been together now
for five years; we have been married
six years and a half. For the first
year and a half we were obliged to go-
different ways, but since that we have
been together always."
She then gave the following pretty
account of the manner of their first
meeting.
•*We have known each other since
we were children. Oddly enough, we
first met over a little play that he and
my brother wrote, and in which I was
one of the actors. The boys were the vil-
lains in the play. They not only wrote
it, but painted the scenery, put up the
stage, the curtain, and everything.
I remember they painted the scenery ir>
the cellar, and when they tried to bring
it upstairs it wouldn't go — it was too
large, and they had to take it back and
put hinges in it. I do not think the
audience saw the play through; it was
so long that I think their patience gave
out before the end."
In answer to questions Mrs. Ken>
nedy spoke of her father's brother,
Arthur Matthison, who in his day was
a well-known actor on both sides of
the Atlantic. He had acted with
Booth and Irving. His death took
place about twenty years ago.
**On my mother's side," continued
she, **I belong to a family of singers.
AN AMATKUR PHOTO OF MRS. KENNEDY TAKEN
BV MISS DOROTHY MAHOMFiD, WHO PLAY-
ED DYSCRECION IN **EVEK\ MAN"
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A SONG
41
Edith Wynne was my mother's sister ;
it is for her I am named. If I had
been choosing myself I should not
have taken such a long stage name,
but, being named for my aunt who was
so well known, of course I like to keep
the Edith Wynne, and my dear father
would not like it if I dropped the
Matthison."
Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy occupied
a pretty apartment in **Hemenway
Chambers," while in Boston. The
windows give on the Fenway, and the
view is very pretty. Mrs. Kennedy
had preserved her peep from the win-
dows in a photograph which would, no
doubt, be full of interest to the par-
ents in Birmingham, who are both liv-
ing, and who follow the career of their
gifted daughter with just pride and
delight. She is the only daughter,
though there are three sons whose
photographs occupied conspicuous po-
sitions on the piano — all fine-looking,
wholesome young Englishmen.
There was also a portrait of Mr.
Kennedy's sister, a beautiful woman in
sumptuous fancy costume. In reply
to the remark that she and her sister-
in-law did not look unlike, Mrs. Ken-
nedy said smilingly:
**Mr. Kennedy says that he can see
a resemblance between his sister and
me.
In the course of their Boston en-
gagement Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy were
guests for a week of the Misses Whit-
tier, of Milton, Mass. The pictures
A CHARACTERISTIC POSE
representing Mrs. Kennedy as **Ad-
riana" and her husband as **Dromio"
in the **Comedy of Errors," were tak-
en by Miss Harriet Whittier, as also
the little domestic scene on the porch,
where the two are pictured as they
appear in everyday life. The three
* 'Everyman" pictures were taken by
Miss Dorothy Mahomed, and none of
these have been published before.
A SONG
BY A. J.
Drip, drip, drip,
And the raindrops patter on the pane
One by one, one by one.
In my heart the music sings.
While the baby crows and clings.
For his Daddy's coming shine or rain
To his son, to his son.
MCDOUGALL
Crow, crow, crow
For the light is fading in the west.
Night is near, night is near, —
And my heart sings the refrain.
Be it sunshine, be it rain, —
List, my darling, lying in your nest,-
Daddy's here! Daddy's here!
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TACHGAT
fOR
i^^>-;v^;:r.BYA.G.BRADLEY
A HISTORY IN TWELVE
INSTALMENTS ^ ^ ^
CHAPTER V— FORMAL DECLARATION OF WAR BETWEEN FRANCE AND ENG-
LAND—MONTCALM SENT TO CANADA— LORD LOUDON TAKES COMMAND
OF THE BRITISH FORCES— HIS USELESS CAMPAIGN ON LAKE GEORGE-
MONTCALM CAPTURES OSWEGO— 1755-1756.
|N spite of her triumphs both
in attack and defence, Ca-
nada spent but a miserable
winter. The exigencies of
war had sadly interfered
with the saving of what at the best
would have been but an indifferent
harvest. Something like a famine pre-
vailed, and the bakers* shops were be-
sieged by hungry crowds. English
cruisers watched the mouth of the St.
Lawrence with exceeding vigilance,
and France, who had frequently been
compelled to provide with bread this
her colony of agriculturists and hunt-
ers on a virgin soil, found it no easy
matter to come this winter to her aid.
It was in such emergencies as these,
however, that the official clique, who
kept a tight grip on Canada, waxed
fat. Bigot, who as Intendant had the
handling of finances and supplies, was
a very prince of Corruptionists, though
possessing some good qualities and
considerable ability. He had, more-
over, raised from obscurity and gather-
ed around him a gang of underlings
who had even less breeding and fewer
good qualities than himself, were little
behind him in wits, and more than
his equal in unscrupulousness. That
strange medley, the so-called noblesse
of Canada, were very easily passed in
the race for power by such adventur-
ers. The regimental and staff officers
from France represented another ele-
ment who despised both classes, but
in such banishment were inclined to
pocket their prejudices and take such
social comfort as was thrown in their
way. Out of this mixed material a
queer though lively society was evolved
at Quebec and Montreal. In spite of
French military aristocrats, local titles
of nobility, and a haughty Church, offi-
cial society seems to have been far
more Bohemian, less socially exclusive,
and much more scandalous than that
of New York, Boston or Williams-
burg. But if Canada was short in
food and money, the new commander-
in-chief, Montcalm, who now arrived
with two fresh battalions, was a host in
himself, and had a staff that was worthy
42
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
43
of him. Let us now, however, turn
for a moment to Europe and see how
the nations were grouping themselves
for the fiercest struggle of the century,
and also what manner of men were
those who at this critical moment
guided the destinies of England.
These last, indeed, were but an in-
different company, and the state of the
country was anything but hopeful.
Pitt was still, and destined to be for
some time longer, without power.
The dead weight of the ridiculous
Newcastle, that **hoary jobber," cling-
ing at all costs to office, poisoned the
springs of English action in every field,
and Pitt's eloquence found congenial
and . temporary employment in laying
bare with withering satire the Pre-
mier's contemptiblelittleness. Through
the whole of this winter and spring
there were constant alarms of a French
invasion. **I want," said Pitt, in a
flash of prophetic inspiration, **to call
this country out of a condition so
enervated that twenty thousand men
from France can shake it." But for
the present he had to possess his soul
in patience and expend his eloquence on
the ill conduct of public affairs. The
fleet, however, was numerous and well
manned, though bewildered by enig-
matic and conflicting orders which its
captains interpreted according to the
popular spirit rather than dally over
conundrums; seizing French vessels,
that is to say, wherever they could find
them, and blockading Canada with
considerable success. The French,
whose policy was changing, at this
moment of all others, from an Ameri-
can one of great conceptions to a
European one that offered no prospect
worth mentioning, were in no hurry to
proclaim war with England. Their
Government was anxious to accept,
not to make, a declaration of hostil-
ities. It professed horror and amaze-
ment at the depredations of British
ships upon French commerce, and by
way of emphasizing these protests re-
leased with much ostentation a British
vessel that had been brought as a prize
into a French port.
France had, in fact, been turned by
frivolous counsellors from her lofty
transatlantic dreams to a mere conflict
of passion and military glory. The
leading object of her attack was now to
be Frederick of Prussia, against whom
that European coalition was forming
which plunged the continent into the
horrors of the Seven Years* War.
What caused Frederick, with his five
million subjects, his small and com-
paratively poor realm, and above all his
formidable army, to be the object of
such widespread enmity is sufficiently
familiar. He had insulted two potent
ladies of indifferent virtue, and robbed
a third who was virtuous, but justifiably
vengeful. This female trio represent-
ed France, Russia and Austria. With
respect to the latter, Maria Theresa
had a legitimate grievance and much
reason in her wrath, for Frederick had
robbed her of Silesia. The Russian
Empress was stung to fury by his
coarse jests at her somewhat notorious
weakness for Grenadiers. As for
Madame de Pompadour, she had not
only been the subject of the Prussian
king's continuous raillery, but had
been treated by him with personal
contumely, and this lady governed
both her royal lover and France. An
alliance between these three great
powers was preparing throughout the
winter of 1755-56 and, with the ad-
dition of Sweden and Saxony, was
cemented before the opening of sum-
mer, constituting, in the words of
Pitt, **the most powerful and malig-
nant confederacy that ever yet has
threatened the independence of man-
kind."
But France, with the certainty of a
war with England, had done more
than give up the substance of Ameri-
can empire for the shadow of European
glory, if indeed glory there could be in
a coalition representing ninety million
souls against a single province repre-
senting five. For she was exposing
her very existence in the New World
to the gravest risk of complete ex-
tinction. To the French champions of
the Canadian policy, to the brave men
across the Atlantic who were so gal-
lantly inaugurating it, and who divin-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ed, or thought cney divined, a dazzling
future, this turn of the political
weathercock must have been bitter
indeed; and the more so, seeing the
comparative weakness which distin-
guished at this moment their great
rival. That rival's fleet was strong,
but her councils and her generals ap-
peared to be contemptible, and her
army had been let down to twenty
thousand men. Nor could they, nor
any one, know that England was in
labour of a leader who was to shake
the world to its uttermost limits.
Let us suppose there had been no
Pompadour, and that a wholesome
monarch, such as indeed was Louis
XV himself in earlier life, aided by
clear-sighted ministers, had been rul-
ing France. Can there be a moment's
doubt but that she would have turned
to face with her whole strengfth her
only real rival? If then she had lav-
ished one-half — nay, one-quarter — of
the blood and treasure in America that
was idly squandered on European bat-
tlefields, who dare say in what colours
the map ot North America would now
be painted ? The mastery of the seas
it is possible no effort on the part of
France could have won, but with en-
ergy she could certainly have become
strong enough to prevent anything
like an effective blockade of so vast a
line, and could have poured troops and
supplies into Quebec, Louisbourg, or
New Orleans in sufficient abundance
for every practical purpose. Let us be
permitted, too, to conceive our neigh-
bours drawing an object-lesson from
the prosperity of the British colonies
which stared them in the face, and
abandoning that religious bigotry
which so hampered their own expan-
sion. Let us suppose that France had
chosen to do what some of her best
Catholic soldiers had so often urged —
ceased, that is to say, from treating
her Huguenots as ravening wolves,
and hounding them from all her bord-
ers to become a strength and comfort
to her rivals, and given them instead
the toleration under their own flag that
they had to seek for under others.
Can there be any doubt that, in such
an event, thousands of the most virile
people in France would have sought
the shores of French America, and
would have aided and secured that ex-
pansion of dominion which was the one
worthy dream of an ignoble epoch? A
wise policy, too, could have beyond a
doubt attracted to New France, and
most certainly to an occupied Ohio
Valley, those Catholics of other nation-
alities who, while they found bare tol-
eration at the best in the British colo-
nies, would have preferred a region
where their creed was greeted with a
warmer welcome.
But these are idle, if interesting,
speculations. Destiny decreed other-
wise, and it is not for Britons at any
rate to quarrel with her scheme.
France spurned the great opportunity
of her national life, and, with a folly
that to us now seems little short of
madness, lavished her resources in at-
tempting to dismember a small coun-
try whose defeat would merely serve to
strengthen her already powerful allies.
The Pompadour, however, must by
no means get the whole of the blame;
for the French noblesse^ who now
swarmed like locusts about the Court
and in the army, would probably have
shown but slight enthusiasm for the
rigours and inglorious hardships of an
American campaign. They were ready
at all times to fight and to die, but
this was a generation to whom fine
clothes, fine living, and an artificial
atmosphere were necessaries second
only to their honour. If fight they must,
they would have much preferred to die
gloriously after a supper of champagne
and truffles, and perhaps under the
very eyes of their mistresses, in the
trenches of a Flemish town, rather
than perish, and their deeds with them,
in the trackless forests of America.
So Canada was from henceforth left
in a great measure to its own resour-
ces, and to such support as had been
already sent there. The general war
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
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MADAME DE HOMPADOLR
"This lady g^overned both her Royal lover and France'
FROM THE PAINTING BY BOUCHER
in Europe did not break out till August,
but in the spring France, turning from
all thoughts of a descent on England,
made a swoop upon Minorca, which
for forty years had been a valued pos-
session of the British. The stubborn
defence of Blakeney with under 3,000
men against an immensely superior
French force is not so familiar as the
failure of Admiral Byng with the Eng-
lish fleet to relieve that gallant officer,
and the story of his subsequent execu-
tion. The merits of this do not con-
cern us here, but after such glaring
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
hostilities, not in the backwoods of
America, but in the full sig^ht of Eu-
rope, the farce of peace could no longer
in decency be maintained, and war
was formally declared ag-ainst France
upon May the eighteenth, 1756.
With all her ill-advised change of
policy, France had not wholly neglect-
ed Canada. She had sent there one
of her very best soldiers, who was to
cover himself with glory before he per-
ished in her ruin. For at the very
moment when England declared war,
Montcalm, with 1,200 men of the ad-
mirable regiments of La Sarre and
Royal Rousillon, was slowly pushing
his way up towards Quebec, through
the drifting ice-floes of the St. Law-
rence.
Louis Joseph, Marquis de Montcalm-
Gozon de Saint- V6ran, was a native of
the South of France, and proprietor of
the hereditary but much-encumbered
estate of Candiac, near Nimes. He
was now in his forty-fifth year. He
had seen much service on European
fields, had been twice severely wound-
ed, and had distinguished himself
much oftener. He was the best type
of a French gentleman of the eight-
eenth century, and a type none too
common at this particular epoch. Un-
like most of his kind, when off duty,
he was able to bear a rural life with
something more than equanimity. He
could exist contentedly outside the
meretricious sunshine of Versailles,
and was never indeed so happy as
when settled at Candiac in the midst
of his family, for both of which he
cherished a most ardent affection.
In his soldierly way he was both
cultured and religious; above all, he
was brave, honest and patriotic. For
such a man there was certainly not
much profit to be looked for in a Ca-
nadian command — a matter to which
Montcalm with ten children and an en-
cumbered estate could not be indiffer-
ent. With equal certainty there was
much hardship in prospect, and no
great likelihood of a successful termin-
ation to the struggle. Montcalm's
private letters, cheery though they
are, show how little he appreciated
his long banishment from home and
friends and country, and indicate pretty
plainly how patriotic were his motives
and how admirable his principles.
With him went De Levis and De Bour-
lamaque as second and third in com-
mand, both excellent soldiers; while
his aide-de-camp was Bougainville, the
diarist of these campaigns, and the
famous traveller of later years.
The Governor of Canada in the
meantime, with all the typical vanity
of that Canadian nationality he so
greatly affected, would gladly have
dispensed with professional assistance
and himself conducted the military as
well as the civil affairs of the colony.
De Vaudreuil's hints to the home
Government, however, as to the ad-
vantages of such an arrangement were
thrown away, and he had to put the
best face he could on the situation,
which, to judge by Montcalm's letters,
who as yet knew nothing of these
heart-burnings, was a very good one.
The general, to be sure, was nominally
under the Governor's orders; but it is
not difficult to estimate what force
these would have in the stress of a
fight for existence. A civilian, it will
be remembered, was also in command
of the British American forces at this
moment. But there, on the contrary,
it was by no means certain the coming
change was for the better. Shirley
was not a heaven-born general, but
there were many people of good judg-
ment who thought that he was at any
rate better than his immediate success-
ors. He had sense, energy, and some
gift for procuring and adopting the
best advice; he also knew the country
and the people. His recent failure
against Niagara was entirely venial;
but he was loudly blamed later on for
not having properly victualled the gar-
rison he had left to winter at Oswego.
The omission had caused great sick-
ness and suffering. The sentries, so
credible witnesses declared, were so
weak from want of food that they had
to go on duty with a stick to keep
themselves from falling, while the mor-
tality was considerable. The rumours
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
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of Shirley's supercession which were
rife throughout the winter, were offi-
cially confirmed in February. He put
aside, however, the mortification which
vexed his soul most deeply, and work-
ed with zeal and honesty in prepara-
tions for the coming season.
It is hardly necessary to remark that
campaigning on any serious scale was
out of the question in the Northern
colonies till the woods and lakes had
been loosed from their wintry burden by
the warm winds of April, and wholly
freed from it by the suns of May.
Even armies in Europe at that day
went into winter quarters, and sus-
pended operations by a sort of unwrit-
ten agreement, as if war were in truth
a game to be played under convention-
al rules. But the colonial forces, after
leaving slender garrisons in a few
isolated snow-bound outposts, not only
went into winter quarters, but to their
homes — each man to his farm, his
office, or his shop. He ceased to be a
soldier, and it rested entirely with him-
self whether he ever would be again.
With the exception of a few perma-
nent companies, the colonies had every
year to form practically a fresh army,
and that under difficulties which were
very great, though in part of their own
making. That troops would be re-
quired, and in greater numbers than
ever before, for the -season of 1756,
was now very evident. New England,
the chief source of supply, had been
much discouraged, partly by the mili-
tary failures of the preceding year and
partly by the large debt its outlay had
accumulated. Though full of zeal in
her stolid, undemonstrative fashion, it
was with profound satisfaation that, as
an eminently business-like people, she
heard of the substantial sum of £^i 15,-
000 voted her by the British Parlia-
ment for past expenses, and, greatly
cheered, girded up her loins for a re-
newal of the contest.
Shirley was in a strange position.
He had to plan the campaigns for the
coming season and trust to their meet-
ing with the approval of his success-
ors, who seemed in no hurry to take
up their responsibilities. There was
in truth no wide field of choice. The
two nations, as I have before
remarked, could only strike each
other by land in serious fashion
on the two lines* with which my
readers are, I trust, now familiar.
Oswego the extremity of the western
route, and no longer a mere base for
an attack on Niagara, called loudly for
support, and was, in fact, in imminent
danger. On the northern route the
French held Crown Point and Ticon-
deroga, being thus omnipotent on
Lake Champlain, while the British,
forty miles to the southward, had their
outposts at the head of Lake George.
It was the obvious object of each to
drive the other back — the one on
Albany, with a possibility of captur-
ing it, the other on Montreal, with
about the same prospect of success.
The French, however, of the two,
would be more strictly on the defen-
sive. Whatever their hopes of West-
ern dominion, they had no serious
thoughts of doing more than tempor-
ary damage to the old British colo-
nies; while the English, in view of their
numerical superiority, could fairly re-
gard the conquest of Canada as a
possibility. A second expedition to
Duquesne was, of course, an inevitable
move, both to avenge Braddock and
to destroy the hornets' nest that was
ravaging the frontiers of Pennsylvania
and Virginia. But without the help
of these two provinces the venture was
impossible; and, as we have seen,
they were scarcely able at this mo-
ment to protect themselves.
The Earl of Loudon had been ap-
pointed to succeed Shirley, but he did
not arrive till August, and in the inter-
val General Abercrombie, with Colonel
Webb as second in command, acted as
substitute. These two officers landed
in June, and, with their tardy chief,
constituted perhaps the most indiffer-
ent trio that were ever inflicted at one
blow upon a British army. Poor Shir-
ley got little thanks either from his
*The route to Fort Duquesne, or the third
line of attack, was, of course, the very reverse
of a natural artery, and only necessitated by
temporary conditions.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
successors or the home Government for
his faithful and unquestionably useful
services. He had, moreover, lost two
sons'in the recent campaigns.
It was always a cumbersome busi-
ness getting- the New England troops
into the'field, not on account of lack of
strictly limited the sphere on which
their troops were to act. Their method
of raising an army, after the legislat-
ure had voted the money, was in the
first instance to call for volunteers. If
this did not produce the fully required
result, the colonels of militia were iu-
LOUIS JOSEPH, MARQUIS DE MONTCALM-GOZON
**He was the best type of a French g-entleman of the eighteenth century"
zeal, but of the jealousies which would
not tolerate any central system of or-
ganization. Each colony insisted on
retaining in its own hands the trans-
port and maintenance of its forces, and
each watched its neighbours narrowly,
lest their burden of labour and war
contribution should be proportionately
less than its own. Usually, too, they
structed to muster their regiments,
and draft out of them the number of
men still needed. Most brought their
own firearms, those who did not were
supplied with them, in addition to hats,
uniforms of blue cloth, knapsacks,
powder horns and canteens. This
year each man received a bounty of six
dollars on enlistment, and, as a private,
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
49
twenty-six shillings a month as pay.
In addition to their rations, a gill of
rum was served out daily; while, if
they misbehaved themselves, republic-
ans in habit of life though they were,
handcuffs and the wooden horse, and
even the whipping post were the man-
ner of their punishment. This division
of authority caused much confusion
and no little ill temper among the heads
of the army. ** I wish to God," wrote
Loudon to Winslow, **you could
make your people go all one way;"
while a poor commissary of provincial
troops complains that all the thanks
he gets for his endeavours to supply
them is to be called a d— d rascal.
Albany and the neighbouring banks
of the Hudson formed now, as ever,
the point of concentration for all the
Northern forces, both those destined
for Lake George and those intended
for Oswego. The first were to be
nearly all New England troops, and
by slow degrees some seven thousand
men were gathered in two large camps,
or near them — the one at Fort William
Henry, on Lake George, the scene of
Dieskau's repulse; the other at Fort
Edward, fourteen miles nearer Albany,
on the Hudson. The first was com-
manded by our old friend Winslow,
the provincial officer of Acadian celeb-
rity now ranking as a general; the
second under that still more capable
New England colonel, Lyman, who, it
may be remembered, supported John-
son at the same place in the previous
year. Here the troops waited for Lou-
don, and suffered all the evils and dis-
comforts inevitable to a mob of ama-
teur soldiers, indifferently provided for
'and left for a prolonged period of com-
parative inactivity in a wilderness.
Of occupation of sorts there was
enough in strengthening the fortifica-
tions, clearing the forest around them,
improving the fourteen miles of road
ow^vtYit portage^ and building the large
fleet of whale-boats and batteaux
which would be required for convey-
ing the army down the lake to Ticon-
deroga.
The fighting was confined on both
sides to small scouting and scalping
parties, who vied with each other in
deeds of daring and endurance, and
supped their fill of the horrors of Indi-
an warfare, and la petite guerre. The
bulk of the troops, ignorant of the first
principles of camp sanitation, sickened
by thousands, and died literally by
hundreds, in a region of itself notori-
ously healthy. Their officers, in the
absence of more stirring work, found
all too much time for airing those jeal-
ousies inevitable to an ill-disciplined
force composed of the soldiers of four
or five different governments. The
godly chaplains of New England, who
had accompanied their flocks to the
field, bewailed their backslidings when
freed from the eye of the village minis-
ter and the village deacon. Their
rousing sermons were often but ill at-
tended, and not at all, they complain,
by the senior officers, who drank punch
and smoked in their tents, not only
during the hours of divine service, but
actually in sight of the open-air con-
gregation. The rank and file, if they
could not escape the preacher's regular
exhortations, took to cursing and
swearing as kindly as if they had been
born in Wapping, or had served in
Flanders!
When, in August, Loudon at length
reached Albany, he found himself seri-
ously embarrassed by one of those
amazing blunders to which British
Governments, in dealing with colonials,
have in former days been so prone, and
perhaps are not yet wholly cured of.
A special order had come out from Eng-
land that no provincial officer, under
any circumstances, should rank higher
than a senior captain of regulars. In
other words, a British major of one-
and-twenty, who had never seen a shot
fired — and there were plenty such in
the army of that day — would take pre-
cedence in the field of a provincial
brigadier or colonel of veterans like
Winslow and Lyman, for instance; of
Johnson, Bradstreet, or George Wash-
ington! The colonial officers were
ablaze with indignation, as well they
may have been. Loudon, who was
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
himself a wooden kind of man,
and had certainly no tenderness for
provincials, was greatly exasperated.
There was no question of rescinding
the order, no hope of compromise, nor
authority to grant it. The officers of
New England regiments threatened to
go home in a body. Loudon appealed
to Winsiow, who was a broad-minded,
sensible man, to use his influence, and
he brought his people to see that there
was nothing for it at present but to
swallow the uncalled-for and ill-timed
slight. Fortunately, no movements of
importance took place to test the
strain; but the sore rankled. British
officers of that day were only too prone,
by their supercilious attitude, to wound
the susceptibilities of their colonial
brothers in arms. It is, of course,
only the old story of the professional
and the volunteer added to that of the
Briton and the colonial, which no one
who has lived in British colonies would
require to have elaborated. This sore
feeling was a conspicuous feature of
the war. It is well known to have
been one of the irritants that prepared
the soil for the Revolution. One would
be inclined to think that it was peculi-
arly an English failing; but, as a mat-
ter of fact, something very like it pre-
vailed in Montcalm's army. But this
special order was another thing alto-
gether. It was not a mere question of
tact or manners, but a blunder of the
worst kind.
It was issued at a critical moment
in face of the enemy, and would have
delayed, if not hampered, Loudon's at-
tack; but Loudon would in no case
probably have now attacked. Nearly
six thousand French were at Ticonder-
oga, at the near end of Lake Cham-
plain, strongly entrenched. Twice their
number could not have moved them,
and Loudon, though by the close of
summer he had 10,000 men under his
command, including the sick and the
35th regiment (Otway's), which had
just come out, 900 strong, considered
that the effort was hopeless. Rumours
of a French attack from time to
time came drifting up the long, narrow
waters of Lake George; but the French
strong for defence, could no more at-
tack Loudon than he could attack
them. Thus the summer passed away
in costly inactivity, and when the ice
spread once more over lake and stream,
when the green mountains of Vermont
were no longer green, and the Adiron-
dacks showed a snowy carpet beneath
their naked woodlands, French and
English were both more firmly lodged
than in the previous year, but neither
were one whit more forward.
Loudon was a melancholy and iras-
cible man. He was in no sense fitted
for his position, but he can hardly be
held responsible for the barrenness of
the season's campaigns on Lake
George, unless, indeed, his late arrival
in America may be held against him.
He would have enough to answer for
in the following year, though his
blunders, unlike those of his brother
generals, were to be those rather of
omission than of misguided action.
. In the early part of this year a royal
commission had been sent out to Sir
William Johnson, appointing him col-
onel, and sole superintendent of the
Six Nation Indians and responsible to
the Crown alone. Colonial dealings
with these Indians, chiefly carried on
by the Dutch traders of Albany and
New York, had worked incalculable
mischief. The French were striving
more vigorously than ever, by bribes
and threats, to win over the Six
Nations, and the latter, growing more
disheartened as English prestige de-
clined, were now in a dangerous state
of hesitation. Matters were indeed so
serious that Johnson made a perilous
journey through forests, alive with
French and Indian freebooters, to the
Six Nation capital at Onondaga, and
after a fortnight of that sensational
diplomacy he understood so well, he
had secured, at any rate, their neutral-
ity. He raised his voice, too, further
afield, and tried to stem the raiding
hordes of Delawares and Shewanoes,
who were still desolating the frontiers
of the middle colonies. Some of these
actually came at his summons all the
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
51
way to Fort Johnson, where, amid
great ceremonies, much din of war-
cries and riotous dancing, and floods of
rum, he exacted promises from them
which possibly a few kept. But
these nations, save those small, broken
bands which had already joined the
French, were secured to neutrality,
and this, from their midway situation
between the rival armies, was a point
of immeasurable importance.
While noth-
ing of mo-
ment was a-
chieved this
season by
either side at
the principal
seat of war, a
disaster befell
the British
arms to the
westward, as
great as that
of Braddock's
defeat in the
preceding
year. This was
the fall and de-
struction of
O s w e
go
whose garris-
on has been al-
ready alluded
to as weak in
numbers and
half starved.
The route thither from Albany was
guarded at certain spots by rude forts.
One of these had been attacked and
destroyed by a flying column of French
and Indians in the dead of winter.
Shirley, conscious of Oswego's weak-
ness, but short of troops, had in the
early spring struck out a new depar-
ture and engaged two thousand boat-
men and whaling hands from the
coast, to carry supplies to the Ontario
fort, arming them with guns and toma-
hawks. Bradstreet, another colonial
- BOUGAINVILLE
Montcalm's Aide-de-camp.
FROM BONITBCHOflK's MONTCALM, 5TH BIMTION
colonel of sense, zeal and daring, and
some military experience, was placed
in command. The outward journey,
up the Mohawk and its feeders, with a
portage across the watershed, and
thence down into Oneida Lake and the
Oswego River, was achieved without
opposition. On the return journey,
however, Bradstreet, whose force was
in three divisions, was stoutly attacked
about nine miles up from Oswego by
seven hundred
of the enemy.
After a smart
encounter in
and around
the bed of the
Oswego Riv-
er, his boat-
men drove the
French back,
with a loss of
about fifty on
either side.
This,however,
was but an in-
cident barren
of any results
but the actual
lives lost. The
French had
intended to
strike Brad-
street laden
with supplies
on the way
up; but he had
been too quick
for them; in-
deed, this
officer had an
excellent hab-
it of being too nimble, both in at-
tack and defence, even for his nimble
foe. There were few of his compatri-
ots, British or colonial, at this time of
whom such could be said.
Almost before he was missed, Mont-
calm had slipped away from Ticonder-
oga and arrived with a powerful force
in front of the dismayed invalids and
feeble, ill-protected garrison of Os-
wego. De Vaudreuil and Montcalm
did not often agree in a plan of cam-
paign; but they were in full accord as
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
to this one. De Villiers, who had led
the attack on Bradstreet, was still
within reach, so was Rigaud, the Gov-
ernor's brother, who had gone west-
ward with more men. It was early in
August when Montcalm, leaving De
Levis in command at Ticonderoga,
started at full speed for Fort Fronte-
nac, reaching there in a week. Fron-
tenac lay just across the lake from Os-
wego, and about sixty miles distant.
The regiments of La Sarre andGuienne
had in the meantime been forwarded
there from Montreal, and that of
Bdarn fetched up from Niagara. Be-
sides these, Montcalm had with him
Canadians, colony regulars, and Indi-
ans, amounting in all to about three
thousand men, with a strong train of
artillery, including some of Braddock*s
captured guns. Oswego, a consider-
able trading-station, with houses, stor-
ing sheds and forts, a mere gash in the
interminable forests that in those days
brooded over the now populous and
busy shores of Lake Ontario, was en-
tirely unconscious of its impending
fate. It possessed two very inferior
forts standing upon either side of the
mouth of the Oswego River, and a
third one behind, which is decribed as
merely an improved cattle pen, de-
risively christened as '<Fort Rascal."
None of them, however, were fit to
stand cannon shot. Mackellar, the
chief British engineer in America, had
condemned the place entirely. Why
nothing had been done to strengthen
4t is not explained.
Colonel Mercer, an excellent and
brave officer, had been left, it will be
.remembered, in command, and had
with him about a thousand soldiers of
rsorts and eight small guns. There
<were also some six hundred non-com-
batants, including a hundred and
twenty women and children. The sol-
diers were chiefly of Pepperell's regi-
ment (51st) and New Jersey militia,
and were in great part recruits or in-
valids. Montcalm crossed the extreme
eastern end of Lake Ontario on the
nights of the fourth and fifth, by divi-
sions. On the eighth all his force
was collected on the southern shore.
Thence it took them about thirty hours,
part of the army marching through
the woods, part skirting the shore in
batteaux, to reach a point within a
mile of Oswego. It was not till the
French were all gathered here on the
shore, with guns ready for action, that
the garrison knew any movement was
impending, so bad was their scouting.
Montcalm's chief engineer went for-
ward to report, accompanied by clouds
of Canadian and Indian sharpshooters,
who accidentally shot him, though not
till he had pronounced the forts to be
untenable. Montcalm then set about
cutting his entrenchments, knowing
full well that he had the place in the
hollow of his hand. The garrison
fired their light guns at his working
parties, but with little effect. The
French were upon the east bank of the
river, and Fort Ontario, which pro-
tected that side, was laid out in the
shape of a star, and built of tree* trunks
flattened on both sides and placed up-
right in the ground — an excellent de-
fence against musketry, but none what-
ever against cannon. Three hundred
and seventy men of Pepperell's regi-
ment were inside it, but Mercer, who
was in the fort west of the river, sig-
nalled to them to evacuate it and cross
to his side. This move was effected
without interruption. In the night
Montcalm had thirty guns mounted on
the river bank within five hundred
yards of Mercer's fort. This was only
protected against the south and west,
the river side being entirely open.
The gap was filled by pork-barrels for
want of something better, and Mer-
cer, thus equipped, prepared for the
attack by opening the hottest fire he
was capable of upon the French. Some
execution was done; but when the
heavy cannon of the enemy, hurling
grape and round shot through the
flimsy defences, got seriously to work,
the hopelessness of the defence be-
came very evident, though Mercer be-
haved with great bravery. Montcalm
now decided to attack the further side
of the station, which was weakly in-
trenched, with infantry. There was a
ford over the Oswego River two miles
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
55
up, and a large force of Canadiaas
and Indians crossed it and swarmed
around the ramparts, pouring in a
heavy fire from the shelter of the
woods. Mercer was at this moment
killed by a round shot, and with his
fall the heart went out of the garrison.
Their case was indeed hopeless; the
non-combatants clamoured loudly for
surrender, and the slirieks of the ter-
rified wo-
men as the
grape - shot
from Mont-
calm'sguns
shivered
the wooden
tion, pork, flour, spirits, silver, and
;^i8,ooo in cash. Five standards were
captured and hung as trophies upon
the walls of Montreal Cathedral. The
usual difficulty was experienced in re-
straining the Indians from taking what
seemed to them their natural toll of
blood, plunder and scalps — above all,
when liquor was plentiful, as it was
on this occasion. A bloody scene at
one time threat-
eoedi and all
Montcalm's ef-
forts united to
those of his
French officers
were needed to
prevent it. The
ed the de
mand. The
frightful
yells of the
I ndians,
too,outside
the walls
was signifi-
cant of the
ghastly
terrors of
an assault.
Acouncil of
war was
called, and
it was de-
cid ed to
capitulate.
Th e sur-
render was
practically
uncondi-
tional. One
thousand
six hundred
and forty
prisoners
were taken in all, most of whom were
forwarded to Canada. Six vessels carry-
ing fifty-two guns fell into Montcalm's
hands, with two hundred barges, a
hundred and thirteen cannon and mor-
tars, with large supplies of ammuni-
MAP OF OSWEGO
Montcalm landed on the east side of the
river, about a mile from the Forts, and marched
through the woods. The British abandoned
Fort Ontario without a struggle. Montcalm
then attacked the other Forts and soon reduced
them. He captured 1,640 prisoners.
Canadiaas, of alt
rankSf were neutrals
on this subject They
well knew the risk of
losing their allies if
they thwarted them
in the matter, and had
themselves grown
callous to its horrors,
regarding the mur-
dering, scalping and
torturingof prisoners
at the hands of the savages with consid-
erable equanimity. There is some lit-
tle discrepancy in the accounts of what
happened at the fall of Oswego. It
seems probable, however, that only
prisoners who tried to escape through
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
the woods were tomahawked — a fate
which they courted with their eyes
open. Montcalm, however, reports
that it cost him a good deal of money
to redeem prisoners from the Indians.
The casualties on either side in the
siege were inconsiderable; but the loss
of a station so vital to the British was
extremely serious.
Montcalm now took steps to wipe
Oswego off the face of the earth. He.
destroyed all the vessels and stores he
could not carry away, and levelled the
buildings and fortifications with the
ground. Among the ruins and ashes
his senior priest, Piquet, planted a tall
cross bearing the inscription, In hoc
signo vincunt. From a pole near by
were hung the arms of France, engrav-
en with the words Manibus dat lilia
plenis. The spot was then abandoned
to the wolves, and Montcalm, with his
army, his prisoners, and his booty,
sailed away eastward.
Webb had all this time been toiling
up the Mohawk from Albany, and was
rather more than half-way through
when the news reached him that Os-
wego had fallen. As he appears to
have only had with him that remnant
of the 44th regiment which had sur-
vived Braddock's defeat of the previous
year, it is perhaps just as well that he
did not make a present of another
three or four hundred prisoners to
Montcalm. It was' hardly Webb's
fault that his support was so tardy as
well as weak, but when scouts brought
him news of the capitulation, he justi-
fied in his person and by his action the
soreness that was felt at the wholesale
snubbing of provincial officers. Fresh
rumours asserted that Montcalm was
coming down the western route to Al-
bany with six thousand men. Webb
was panic-stricken. He did not pause
to ascertain whether the rumours were
true or whether Montcalm could get
such a force through such a route; but
he acted as if the whole French army
were upon him. He burnt two forts
that had lately been erected at consid-
erable trouble, and he filled the channel
of Wood Ceeek* with fallen timber, of
which it had recently and at great
labour been- cleared for purposes of
navigation. He then hurried back to
the German flats upon the Mohawk,
and sat down to realize in due course
that his performance was one that no
militia subaltern of average wits would
have committed. It was a conspicuous
instance of the fatal errors into which a
trained officer of only moderate capac-
ity may fall through sheer ignorance of
a country, its people, its geography,
and its mode of warfare, when coupled
with a proper contempt for local advice.
The destruction of Oswego was in
some Ways more disastrous, though
less dramatic, than Braddock's defeat,
and another wave of shame and sor-
row swept over the British colonies.
Niagara was now secure against all
attack. Worse still, British influence
had been swept from the shores of On-
tario, which was once again a French
lake. Worse than all, perhaps, an-
other deadly blow was struck at what
was left of British prestige. Save in
the New England provinces, there was
no spark of military vigour. No an-
swering challenge to the audacity of
the French came from the Middle and
Southern colonies ; the minimum of
necessary protection seems to have
been the limit of their ardour. The
small bodies of mercenaries or militia
they sent into the field, and the hand-
ful of individuals from the prosperous
classes that showed what we should
now call a proper spirit, only seem to
accentuate the lethargy. It was quite
evident that if Great Britain was to
maintain her position in America she
must make the effort herself, and as
yet she seemed to be in no good con-
dition for such enterprises. France,
on the other hand, seemed surely blind
to her good fortune. The moment
was hers in America; but she was
turning her back on it, and gathering
her strength and treasure to wastie in
that bloody orgie which was soon to
engulph continental Europe.
•Not of course the Wood Creek near Lake
George.
TO BE CONTINUED
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THE MEMOIRS OF M. DE BLOWITZ
By KNOX MAGEE
HE records of lives of wide
experience, of unusual and
varied incident, constitute
not only the most entertain-
ing, but the most instruct-
ive part of our literature. Among
such records of such lives none that
has appeared in recent years surpasses
in interest or instruction the volume
now under examination.
From the time of his birth, which
occurred in 1825, till his death, one
year ago in January last, M. de Blowitz
was a child of fortune, or, as he
prefers to call it, Fate. No hero ot
Romance was more befriended of the
Gods than he, no character of modern
fiction meets with less conventional
experiences.
Even his childhood was romantic.
At the age of six he was kidnapped by
gypsies in his father's park, but Fate
stepped in, misdirected his captors and
so permitted the rescue party to over-
take them. When fifteen years old he
was sent, in the company of his tutor,
on five years of travels through Aus-
tria, Russia, Italy and Switzerland.
His descriptions of the ignorance,
superstition and tyranny that flourish-
ed in Central Europe at that time read
like a chapter from ''The Cloister and
the Hearth," or some other romance of
the Middle Ages. The period during
which it had been decreed that he
should travel having ended, he return-
ed home, but only to discover that,
during his absence, his father's entire
fortune had been lost and that he must
in future work for his living. Adapt-
ing himself to his changed circum-
stances in a manner that was charac-
teristic of him throughout his whole life,
he set out the very next day for Am-
erica. But Fate had him well in hand.
At Angers, on his way to Havre, where
he intended to take ship, he broke his
pipe, and on entering a shop to have it
^xed he met an old friend of the family
who persuaded him to abandon his
plans and to accompany him to Paris.
The monarchy of Louis Philippe had
just been overthrown; Paris was in a
fever of political excitement; reputa-
tions were being made and unmade
in a day; here was the opportunity for
a young man; all thoughts of America
were banished from the mind of de
Blowitz; the crowds of Paris fascinated
him — in Paris he would remain.
For the present, however, his hopes
were doomed to disappointment. la
Paris he found no employment — and
his funds were low. Through the in-
fluence of his friends he secured an ap-
pointment under the Government, but
not in the city of his choice. He was
given the professorship of foreign lan-
guages in the college of Angers, from
which place he was soon moved to the
University of Marseilles. In that city
he remained for many years; in that
city he married — and in that city he
made his first "beat" in journalism.
This last event happened in 1869,
when, by imparting to the editor of a
newspaper information concerning the
Government's secret support of M. de
Lesseps as a candidate for election as
deputy for Marseilles, he brought about
the defeat of de Lesseps and raised
such a storm that he was forced to leave
the city. Indeed it was only through
his friendship with M. Thiers that he
escaped expulsion from France.
His second ''beat" was one that call-
ed for ingenuity and daring such as
even de Blowitz seldom found necessary
when engaged in his journalistic enter-
prises of later days. It was when the
Commune was carrying on its reign of
terror in the south of France that the
man who was to outwit Bismarck and
the whole Berlin Congress tapped the
telegraph wires at Marseilles, inform-
ed the Government of the true state of
affairs and so enabled M. Thiers to
crush the Anarchists almost before
they were aware that they had been
betrayed. As a reward for this service
55
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
M. Thiers offered the future journalist
a consulate, but at that time he made
the acquaintance of the unfortunate
Laurance Oliphant, then the Paris cor-
respondent of the Times — and the real
career of the greatest of newspaper
correspondents began slowly to unfold.
Mr. Hardman, Oliphant's assistant,
happened to be absent from Paris; de
Blowitz was offered the position of
temporary assistant; he accepted — and
soon afterwards was permanently en-
gaged.
From the first the relations between
Mr. Oliphant and his new colleague
were most happy. Indeed, in all his
references to his immediate superior
de Blowitz gives one a picture of a
gentleman possessing culture, tact and
urbanity in such a degree as to make
disagreeable relations with him almost
impossible. When Mr. Oliphant re-
signed, however, and Mr. Hardman
was appointed in his place, friction at
once arose. Hardman was proud,
haughty, aggressive and intensely
jealous. He made the life of his sub-
ordinate unendurable. But at the mo-
ment when the situation had become
most acute, and de Blowitz was about
to resign, Hardman suddenly fell ill
and died.
This left de Blowitz next in the direct
line of succession for the senior corres-
pondentship. He had served under
two superiors, rendered remarkable
service, performed almost the entire
work — and yet three months were per-
mitted to pass without an appointment
being made, and during all this time the
name of almost every other prominent
journalist was mentioned as being that
of one likely to fill the vacancy. Again
he was on the point of resigning, but
once more Fate interfered and prevent-
ed his unwise act.
On the 31st of December, 1874,
the Prince of Asturias was proclaimed
King of Spain, as Alphonso XII, at
Madrid. In the afternoon of that day
the news of the pronunciamento reach-
ed Paris. Blowitz was confined to his
bed with a fever, but when he read the
brief despatch that informed the world
of the great amp^ he forgot his sick-
ness, ordered his carriage and hasten-
ed to the Spanish Embassy, there to
obtain either confirmation or refuta-
tion of the report. But the Spanish
Ambassador was no friend to Alphonso.
He ridiculed the news, assured de
Blowitz that the attempted revolution
had been quickly suppressed and that
there was not the slightest possibility
of any further trouble from those fool-
ish persons — ^a mere handful of mis-
guided soldiers — who hoped to re-
establish the monarchy. The story
sounded reasonable, but de Blowitz
was not the man to be easily deceived
by an unscrupulous diplomatist. He
felt convinced that what the Ambas-
sador said was false in its entirety, but
he had no proof. The Prince of As-
turias then lived in exile in Paris. In
him lay the correspondent's only hope
of obtaining reliable information — but
to the Prince he was a total stranger.
On his way home from the Embassy he
drove past the residence of the new
King. The gates were all locked,
police guarded the house, and the
street was almost blocked by the crowd
of reporters and sightseers who clam-
oured for news. To gain admittance
seemed impossible. Blowitz drove
home in despair. Once more in his
house, however, he remembered his
acquaintance with a Spanish nobleman
— the Count de Banuelos — who then
resided in Paris. To the house of this
gentleman he at once repaired; caught
him just as he was starting out to ac-
company his daughters to a ball; per-
suaded the Count to gain for him
admission to the King's presence; ac-
complished his purpose; had an hour's
interview with his Majesty and, though
it was one o'clock when he reached the
telegraph office, had a two-column
*' beat" in the next morning's Times \
One month later he was permanently
appointed to the position of senior
Parisian correspondent of the greatest
of all daily journals.
From this timeforward his career was
an uninterrupted series of adventures
and successes. Almost all of his non-
professional experiences of note rwere
with women, to whom he frequently
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THE FURNISHING OF PAT MAGUIRE
S7
played the part of father confessor and
general adviser. The chapter entitled
**Alva" is, perhaps, the most remark-
able account of a real romance that one
will discover in contemporary biog-
raphy. In this chapter M. de Blowitz
describes the manner in which he res-
cued the illegitimate daughter of an
unfortunate European princess from
the contemptible persecution that she
suffered at the hands of the Govern-
ment of her country. The conduct of
the gallant old gentleman on this oc-
casion, when he not only sacrificed his
time, but risked his fortune and his
reputation in the service of a lady who
was to him almost a stranger, demands
a tribute from the reader that amounts
almost to affection. Two other chap-
ters, "The Revenge of Venus" and "A
Life Struggle," are scarcely less fasci-
nating and no less remarkable. Both
would readily pass as fictipn of a high
order.
To the journalist, the description of
how the Times was enabled to publish
the entire text of the famous Berlin
Treaty, in advance of any other paper,
and before the official announcement
was made, will be the most instructive
part of the book. To the student of
politics, the account of the five hours'
interview with Bismarck, the explana-
tion of why France did not accompany
England to Egypt, de Blowitz's suc-
cessful efforts to prevent a second
Franco-Prussian war, and his unsuc-
cessful attempt to arrange a conference
between Bismarck and Gambetta will
appeal most strongly. The story of
the death struggle of the Emperor
Frederick 1 1 1 is by far the most drama-
tic and pathetic chapter in the book.
The conduct of the present German
Emperor on that occasion was such as
inspires indignation and contempt.
Blowitz's long interview with the Sul-
tan is of special interest at the present
time, when Turkey occupies so much of
the public attention. From this chapter
one gets a picture of the autocrat
quite different from that which one
usually obtains from reading sensa-
tional press despatches. Indeed, in a
book that is remarkable in so many
ways, possibly the most remarkable
parts are those that give us pen por-
traits of the important personages
with whom the correspondent came in
contact. But it is dangerous to partic-
ularize, for the volume is so full of in-
terest and so delightfully written that,
did one start to pick out the chapter
that is most valuable or enjoyable, one
would end by declaring: *'Ah! I have
it !— It is the whole book !"
THE FURNISHING OF PAT MAGUIRE
By WINNIFRED BOGGS
|V a certain Irish hamlet on
the Atlantic there are cliffs
that rise sheer from the sea;
far down, the black waters
seethe and bubble as they
dash into grim dark caverns, rushing
past out-jutting crags with a whirling
roar of foam, breaking with a deep
crashing boom against the impenetra-
ble sides of the gloomy cliffs, which, in
their cold, stern grandeur, seem to
gaze at the impotent fury of the waters
in calm, measureless contempt. Here,
on the top of these northern Irish
cliffs, Biddy M'Shane stood motionless
one night, watching for signs of life to
pass into the field track which led zig-
zag to where she waited.
The night grew later; the wind died
down; the moon, coming out of a small
rift in the sky, turned the great gleam
of the waters into iridescent pathways
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
of silver, but still the girl's eyes turn-
ed westward. There was a great still-
ness lying over all the land, so deep, so
quiet, that Nature and all things living
seemed at rest; the spirit of silence
seemed brooding in the air, save when,
now and then, the dark sails of a fish-
ing smack came, like dreams, drifting
through a silver sea away to the Isles
of Sleep.
Presently a welcome sound struck
upon the girPs strained ear — the sound
of merry-makers as they came home
rejoicing with song and shout from
Kilbahharrak Fair. Up the winding
path streamed a group of men, with
here or there a woman in their midst,
wives or mothers, and Biddy M'Shane
leaned eagerly forward to scan the
faces of the advancing figures as the
moon revealed them one by one to
her.
Then she drew back with bitter dis-
appointment— the face she looked for
was not there. She shrank into the
shadows, -hoping to remain unobserv-
ed while the roysterers passed. The
first few noticed nothing, but the sec-
ond lot, composed chiefly of women,
were less easily deceived; one of their
number sprang forward and caught the
girl by the arm.
'•Why, shure an' it's Biddy M'-
Shane, no less," she exclaimed shrilly,
then letting her go, with a loud laugh,
**Is it waitin' for the fairin' ye be?"
*• Let me be, Kate Flanagan," cried
the girl angrily, darting down the path
out of reach.
With a laugh and a jest the fairers
passed on, and as their voices died
away in the distance, silence reigned
once more.
The girl resumed her old station, and
presently a man's solitary figure made
her heart beat high with anticipation;
then as the moon shone on fair, not
dark, hair, and a man of large instead
of small stature, her hopes fell again,
and she stood sullen and resentful
awaiting his approach.
•*Why, Biddy, can it be yezsilf?"
cried the man amazed, as catching
sight of her watching figure he sprang
lightly to her side; ** 'tis little I hoped
to see ye this night," and he came
closer, looking eagerly into her eyes.
She returned his gaze with indiffer-
ence. '"Tis not for ye I be waitin',
Pat Maguire," she replied, turning
away. The young man's face fell.
'•Arrah, now, Biddy, 'tis teasin' ye
be," he said anxiously; "wait till I tell
ye what I bought at the fair."
She looked up with a faint glint of
curiosity.
" 'Tis nothin' to me, thin," she said,
tossing her head, adding in the same
breath, *' Yecan tell me if ye like."
" Well thin, an illigant rockin'-chair
an' no less," with triumph.
** Ye niver did," incredulously.
*Mt's thruth," he replied. **An'
that's not all, either," fumbling in his
pockets as he spoke. "See here, Biddy,
allannah."
Something flashed in the moonlight,
and Biddy gave an exclamation of
amazement as a little paste butterfly
brooch was dropped into her hand.
Never had she seen anything so
beautiful before; she gazed at it with
dilated eyes and parted lips.
" Rale Irish dimons the sellar tould
me," said Pat Maguire, proudly bend<-
ing his fair thatch of hair low over the
girl's palm, and taking jewel and all
into his own brown fingers. "It'll look
lovely in yez shawl on Sundays," he
murmured admiringly; "shure an' it'll
be breakin' the hearts of all the other
colleens ye'U be, with yez beautiful face
and rale Irish dimons."
The girl hesitated; then she turned
away from the glittering bauble.
" I cannot take it, Pat Maguire,"
she said in a low voice; "keep it for
yez swateheart."
" But it's yezsilf that I want for me
swateheart," began the tall young
Irishman blankly.
" Haven't I tould ye now," re-
proachfully, " that I'd never take ye
for me bhoy ?"
" Och, Biddy, don't," cried Pat in a
sharp pained voice, " shure it'is the
light of my eyes ye are, the — "
The girl pushed him away with no
gentle hand. "Git away ye great
nuisance," she cried, with an angry
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THE FURNISHING OF PAT MAGUIRE
59
sob, *' it*s no peace I have wid ye at
all, at all. Ye know what I am wait-
tn' here for, and niver a word of
him, good or bad. Where is Harry
Bagh?''
'*I might have known," whispered
Pat bitterly; *' always that wastral,
that—".
She turned on him like a wild cat.
''Ye shall not say a word against
him,*' she replied fiercely. "Where
is he, thin — where did ye lave him?"
Old Adam was too strong for Pat
Maguire; he told the crude truth when
a little softening of the facts would
have been more gracious.
'* Dead dhrunk in the ditch comin'
along," he answered.
** Ye — ^ye coward, ye mane-spirited
coward," cried Biddy, with flashing
^yes^ *' lavin' the poor darlint to catch
his death of cowid in a damp ditch —
for shame on ye, Pat Maguire, for
shame. 'Tis no dacent Irish bhoy ye
are, but a low, cruel, murthering thafe.
Take that," and reaching on tiptoe,
the young virago struck the big Irish
lad a stinging blow on the right ear.
Pat caught the offending hand and
held it tightly, shaking the girl gent-
«y.
" It's a damon ye are, for shure,"
he muttered admiringly, liking the
girl none the less for her show of
spirit. " It's locked up or married ye
should be."
'* And it's rather locked up for life
I'd be than married to ye," was the
reply.
For a few moments there was si-
lence, then —
•* Well, what do ye want me to do?"
the young man asked unwillingly.
"Ye know what any dacent boy
would do."
" Fetch him home?" sulkily.
"Yes."
Another pause, a longer one this
time.
" Well, I'll do it," he said at length,
in anything but cheerful tones, "if
ye'U give me — " he paused, confused
by the scathing light in the girl's eyes,
"if — if ye'U keep the brooch, I mane,
an' wear it on Sunday."
For answer, Biddy pinned the jewel
in her bodice and pointed down the
path.
"Now, thin, be quick wid ye," she
said imperiously, "it's gettin' damp."
The young man turned away, mur-
muring savagely—:
" I could be layin' in wather all
night before ye'd moider yezsilf about
me."
. ' ' The like of ye are big enough and
ugly enough to look after yezselves,"
was the reply, " an' ye can stan' more
dhrink than Harry Bagh."
" 'Did, thin, if I took half—" began
the young man, injured, but Biddy
was already pushing him down the
slope.
"It's slow as death ye are," she
cried impatiently; "what are yez great
long legs for ?"
" I'm goin'."
An extra hard shove down the steep
incline, and the angry Pat was indeed
"goin'."
" Good-night, an' hurry now," called
out Biddy before running home, and
slipping into the small, full cabin with-
out waking the slumberers within.
It is to be feared that Harry Bagh's
passage home was a trifle uncomfort-
able, and that he would not have
blessed Biddy for being the cause of
the disturbance of his sweet slumbers
in the ditch.
Biddy M'Shane was the prettiest
girl in Limnagarry, a place where
pretty girls were the rule rather than
the exception. Needless to remark,
she had numerous admirers, the most
eligible, as well as the most persistent,
being big Pat Maguire, a distant kins-
man; the least eligible and most indif-
ferent was the village Adonis, the
black-haired, black-eyed, natty Harry
Bagh.
Pat had a cottage of his own, and
almost enough land to constitute a
small farm, in the imagination of Bid-
dy's mother. He lived entirely alone,
yet his cottage was a model of neat-
ness; it even boasted a few articles of
real furniture, and besides the living
room and kitchen combined, had two
others.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
It was the envy, the despair, the
secret hope of all the unmarried wo-
men from fifteen to fifty.
While Harry Bagh — though his hair
was a mass of purple-black curls, his
black eyes fringed with dark, thick
lashes, his teeth of dazzling whiteness,
his merry mouth red and shapely with
health and youth, and his small form
the essence ot dandified elegance — had
nothing.
He had friends and sweethearts ga-
lore, spirits that nothing could damp,
and a humorous view of life that in-
fected even the most destitute ; but of
worldly wealth, not a sou.
He occupied in company with his
parents, nine brothers and sisters, his
grandmother, and an aunt, and the
pig, a small, tumble-down cabin on the
Limnagarry road just where it branch-
ed off into Blackberry Lane. It was,
perhaps, the most picturesquely situ-
ated cabiil in the whole country-side.
A winding lane with high, wild hedge-
rows led to it; behind it rose the pur-
ple mountains of Donegal; beside it, to
the right, lay the sea, with grassy
slopes, one blaze of sea-pinks. Out-
side the most picturesque, and inside
the dirtiest in all Donegal.
By trade Harry Bagh was, like his
rival, a fisherman; young and old, for
many miles round, all earned their liv-
ing in this manner. To see Harry
Bagh off to the shore, with his black
eyes twinkling, the gleam of his teeth
showing through his merry lips, his
red fisher cap set jauntily on his thick,
dark curls, was to behold a joyous
sight that many a blue-eyed colleen
waited to see.
To see him come back with his
share of the spoil, whistling lightly as
he sorted it out, his red cap farther
back, his hair dashed with spray, while
his dark, Spanish face glowed with the
sea's brown health, was to see, if pos-
sible, an even more joyous sight.
Nothing disturbed the even tenor of his
happy-go-lucky way. He went to a
fair whistling '* Kathleen Mavourneen;"
he came back after a night spent in
the ditch or lock-up still whistling
''Kathleen Mavourneen,'* a smile of
good-fellowship on his devil-may-care
face.
Though by far the most worthless of
all the young men about, and the one
that cared least about Biddy, she, out
of sheer perversity, set her fancy upon
him. When she wanted anything,
when she was in trouble, when there
were grave matters to be settled, the
honest, well-meaning, stalwart, but
plain-featured Pat was the one she took
counsel with.
Ever since he had been old enough
to know what he wanted Pat had want-
ed Biddy, and Biddy alone; for him no
other girl existed. Till Harry Bagh's
conquering black eyes had glanced into
hers, Pat's suit had prospered well
enough, and he had worked hard early
and late at his little patch, cultivating
the ground and rearing pigs and poul-
try with well-merited success.
Owing to his industry he was at last
able to buy a small boat and fishing-
tackle, so that everything was clear,
undivided profit; and he grew, in the
eyes of the primitive Irish poor, almost
a man of wealth.
It had become second nature to him
to make fair his home for the time of
Biddy's coming. He still toiled on
doggedly hoping against hope, for
he told himself, not always with con-
viction, that come she would in the
end.
Early in the morning after Harry
Bagh's arrival home he was on the
beach as usual, none the worse for his
little indiscretion. He strolled about
from one girl to the other, exchanging
jests and compliments, saying the
same to Biddy as he said to all the
girls with any pretensions to beauty,
while Pat Maguire stood a little apart
looking on with a jealous scowl, and
perhaps expecting a word of praise
from Biddy for carrying out her com-
mands.
On her part she wondered why he
did not come up and speak to her^
and something akin to annoyance seiz-
ed upon her spoiled whims when he
went off with the boats without one
word.
Harry Bagh waved a smiling good-
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THE FURNISHING OF PAT MAGUIRE
6i
bye all round; Biddy could not (latter
herself that it was intended more for her
than the others. She knew and deplor-
ed his light, fickle nature, but went on
coveting his love.
In the evening when the boats came
home it was much the same; again
Harry Bagh jested with all alike, while
Pat Maguire, without a word, walked
sourly home.
For a few days things went on in
this very unsatisfactory manner. Biddy
wore the brooch on Sunday, to the un-
dying envy of all the other girls, but
Pat never came to Mass, and when she
took it off and put it away in an old
tin box, angry tears marred the bright-
ness of the jewel.
The next day Harry Bagh's mother,
Mrs. O'Grady, waddled up to her
with a wide, good-natured mouth,
gabbling long before she was in ear-
shot.
She came up panting and breathless,
her hands pressed against her fat sides,
**Arrah, thin, Biddy, me jewel, 'tis
yezsilf Tve been wantin' to see all this
long, weary day," she began rapidly,
** IVe been insulted, that never was,
wid that wastral Harry Bagh's fine
voung English miss."
' "Who?" faltered Biddy.
*• Haven't ye heard ? Shure it's the
bad, bould heart the boy has," lifting
up her hands in mock horror, and try-
ing hard to suppress unbecoming signs
of pride. '' Ye know that fine English
lady's maid her ladyship brought
down r
*' What has she got to do wid Harry
Bagh ?" asked Biddy uneasily.
*' Shure 'tis his latest s^ateheart she
is — no less, but wait till I tell ye.
Harry Bagh was for bringin' her in to
tay, so I put out the china, an' gave
her the uncracked mug, so I did, too,
the cratur. An' I dusted the seat ojf
the chair, an' set boxes roun', an' a
proud woman I was the day, Biddy
M'Shane, wid the fine childer an'
ducks an' hens, an' the sides of the pig
hangin' up to dry, an' fresh eggs for
me fine lady, an' rale bread an' but-
ter, an' everything so genteel an' illi-
gant."
She paused for breath, the girl wait-
ing anxiously for her to continue.
Presently Mrs. O'Grady got started
again. **Yes," she went on, "all so
fine ^n' illigant, an' I waited for her in
me grand new clothes I'd bought
second-hand at the fair, an' where the
body of me wouldn't meet, I wore
Tim's Sunday waistcoat, an' it was a
rale trate I was, me dear, though I
says it as shouldn't. An' presently
came Harry Bagh an' his.English miss,
and by St. Patrick, what do you think
the cratur wore ?"
<'I can*t think," breathlessly.
'^A rale silk petticoat, no less," in
awed accents.
Biddy's amaze and disgust were
great enough even to please that lover
of sensation, Mrs. O'Grady.
" It's thrue, an' that not all, for she
lifted her skirts that high, when she
come in, and there were silk stockin's
an' shoes that small, with tremenjious
heels, just like her ladyship's. An' she
walked like this, turnin' up her long
nose" — Mrs. O'Grady walked in an ab-
surd imitation of her guest's manner,
turning up her ridiculous little nose
sky high — **an' when she saw the
ducks — the darlints — in the cabin, she
squealed and said, ''Oh, gracious, the
hanimals have got into your 'iit —
called it a * 'ut.' An' was so ignorant
she didn't know where the fowls lived.
Thin, after I put tay in the taypot, she
got up and held her fine hankerpiece to
her face an' walked off wid Harry Bagh,
saying she couldn't stand 'the low
common Hirish.' Now," speechless with
indignation, "what do you say to that?"
Biddy could have said a good deal,
but more of Harry Bagh's fickleness
than of his mother's injuries.
She walked home rather thoughtful-
ly. She could not help contrasting
Pat and Harry Bagh. On her way she
paused, and looked wistfully at the
former's well-kept potato patch, but no
stalwart form was working there, and
heaving a sigh she went on with drag-
ging footsteps.
Halfway down the lane she met Pat
Maguire, who turned and walked by
her in silence.
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" Have you lost yez tongue ?" asked
the girl pertly, at length.
** No, Biddy, but I've bought a tay-
pot an' two china cups an' saucers
widout a crack."
**Have ye now?" with affected in-
difference. **What would ye be wantin'
wid two cups, Pat Maguire ?"
** Biddy, ye — " he began.
** Well, good-night to ye, shure I see
me mother lookin' for me," and before
he was aware of her intention she had
caught up to Mrs. M 'Shane's small
wrinkled form in front.
He had no choice save to turn and
go home, dwelling on the hardness of
his lady-love's heart.
A few days later, flushed and eager,
he stood at the corner waiting to see
her pass on her way to the well. No
sooner had she appeared than he was
by her side.
'* Biddy," he cried breathlessly,
'• Biddy, I've bought a chest-o'-draw-
ers.
The girl's great Irish eyes grew yet
larger in amazement. ^'I don't believe
ye," she cried disdainfully; ''only the
quality have chest-o'-drawers; what
for would the likes of ye be buyin'
one?"
•'Forme wife," boldly*
"Arrah, thin, I did not know ye was
married at all, at all."
"Biddy," reproachfully, "ye know
my manin'."
Biddy tossed her head. "I don't,"
she declared untruthfully.
"Come an' look at it, thin," he
pleaded, "just one little peep, now."
The girl hesitated, and then turned
resolutely away. " No, it's nothin' to
me," she insisted, "an' I must be goin',
Pat Maguire. "
He stood looking after her retreat-
ing form in bitter disappointment.
" It's no good at all, at all," he
thought wretchedly. Then the gloom
lifted again as a vision of his green
enamelled chest-o'-drawers rose before
his eyes. " Shure it's a fine thing en-
tirely," he muttered, "an' wait till I
buy a cow."
The news that Pat Maguire had
bought a "rale iligant" chest-o'-draw-
ers spread like wild fire through Lim-
nag^arry, and incredulous groups rush-
ed up to the cottage to see the wonder
with their own doubting eyes.
When they beheld it, one and all
were speechless with envy and admira-
tion, and went home scarcely believing
the evidence of their own eyes. What
would not every woman there have
given to possess that wonderful piece
of furniture for her very own ? And to
think that Biddy M'Shane might have
it, and all the glories of the cot-
tage, for the lifting* up of her little
finger.
" Shure 'tis a proud woman I am
this day," said Mrs. M'Shane, with a
gasp.
Biddy was not as indifferent as she
pretended to the event of the year, and
she hoped Pat would ask her again to
view his purchase. When he should
do so she had decided to give in grace-
fully after a show of resistance; how-
ever, as Pat, much to her mortifica-
tion, did nothing of the kind, keeping,
instead, strictly out of her way, and
even leaving her to learn from others
that he had added a cow td the estab-
lishment, such condescension was not
asked from her.
By this time she had forgotten all
about the fickle Harry Bagh, and was
thoroughly in love with the stalwart
young farmer, for so her mother insist-
ed on speaking of him since the arrival
of the cow.
The cow calved and there was a
large litter of pigs, but still Pat went
on his way regardless of Biddy's wist-
ful, watching eyes, and one day when
she heard he had added a small wood-
en dresser, with dishes and plates, and
three jugs to place upon it, she felt she
could bear his strange conduct no
longer, and lingered in Blackberry
Lane at twilight time, waiting to see
him pass.
He paused as he came along and
looked at her eagerly, then made as if
he would pass on unheeding, but the
girl's entreating face, raised to his,
weakened his resolution. He stopped
and grew suddenly very shy and
tongue-tied, standing there big and
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THE FURNISHING OF PAT MAGUIRE
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awkward, his heart full of the love he
could not find words to express.
The g'olden light was just resting on
the purple of the mountains, a soft
haze of crimson lay behind them, cut-
ting a fleecy cloud into flecks. The
purple mountains, the gold and the
crimson, and all the glories of the set-
ting sun were reflected in the azure
waters. The bees hummed lazily down
the lane, their drowsy buzzing a lulla-
by; butterflies twinkled from flower to
flower, fluttering up and down like
tiny gorgeous blossoms, and the smell
of earth and peat and all the summer
of nature, came sweet and strong to
the young couple standing side by
side.
** It's a stranger ye are now entire-
ly, ** said the girl at last, coyly.
Still Pat made no remark.
"How is the chest-o*-drawers ?"
asked Biddy, looking down.
His face brightened. <' Ye should
just see it," he cried enthusiastically.
'' Shurfe it's the light of the cottage,
an' the itigant sideboard, an' plates,
an' dishes, an' jugs an' all. Kate Gili-
gan came in yesterday, an' she said
'twould houldall a body's clothes," (he
was referring to the chest-of-drawers),
an' lave room for tay and sugar be-
sides, an' she tried the rockin' chair an'
said it was the most comfortable she'd
ever seen. "
Biddy looked at him with jealous,
blazing eyes. << I wonder it didn't
break wid the weight of the cratur — a
great ugly elephant"
'Mt's as strong as nivir was; shure
'twould hold me an' another."
He looked at her shyly.
"An' her Sunday clothes in my —
your chest-o'-drawers. As if a great
ugly colleen like Kate wanted clothes
at all I"
"Why. Biddy," exclaimed Pat,
mildly shocked; "you wouldn't have
a dacent body goin' about — "
" I'm not sure that she is a dacent
body," retorted Biddy, tossing her
head.
" For shame— "
"Well, thin," hotly, "is it dacent
ye call it, to go to a bhoy's cottage an'
thry his things, an' his rockin' chair,
an'— an'— ?" She broke off with a
stifled sob.
The idea of that hateful thing try-
ing to rob her of Pat's affection, and —
his furniture. She sobbed wildly at
the mere thought of it.
Pat stood opposite, trying to look
into her eyes. "Why, Biddy, me
jewel, what is it ?" he asked tenderly,
pulling her hands down from her face,
" tell me now, darlint."
" I think it is a pity the chest-o'-
drawers, an' the iligant sideboard, an'
the rockin'-chair, an' the jugs, an' the
dishes, should — go out of the family,"
she whispered, blushing.
Pat put his arms around her without
more ado, and drew her wet face
against his own radiant one. "Is it
yezsilf that will be wantin' of thim,
thin, darlint ?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes," cried the girl, her arms
stealing round her lover's neck. " I
do want that chest-o'-drawers mortal
bad, but — I want ye more, Pat —
darlint."
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.ScMrrmiG.rscw ih Gou Balls
byTKeodoreRobG^rts
drawings l^—
Arthur WilliekRvBrovJTV
iYDNEY STEVENSON
looked in at the tobacco-
nist's on his way to the
golf course. With a pre-
occupied air he purchased
a package of his favourite cigarettes.
He lit one of the cigarettes at the tiny
flare overhanging the cigar-case. He
was thinking of Miss O'Malley, who
was to meet him at the gate leading
into the links; and he wondered why
she had anything at all to do with him
if she really cared as little as her man-
ner indicated. ** I believe it is simply
heartlessness/' he told himself. His
dun-coloured meditations were disturb-
ed by the salesman behind the counter.
"We have procured the local agency
for the new Royal Scotch High Flyer
golf balls," remarked the youth.
** Would you care to look at them, Mr.
Stevenson ?*'
** Why, yes. Thanks very much,"
replied Stevenson, returning to a con-
sciousness of his surroundings with a
start that very nearly drove his elbow
through the glass of the show-case.
The salesman took a cardboard box
from the shelf behind him, and from it
drew forth two or three tissue-paper-
enveloped golf balls. He rolled them
across the counter. One fell to the
floor, and rebounded to the height of
the counter. Stevenson caught it neat-
ly, and examined it with interest.
** Not much trouble to clear a bunker
with a ball like that," he remarked.
"Captain Stubbs won the St. An-
64
drew's match with its mate," replied
the salesman.
Stevenson subjected two of the balls
to a careful scrutiny and then slipped
them into the pocket of his loose coat.
" What's the damage," he asked.
"Only one dollar," answered the
beguiler.
"Only!" exclaimed Stevenson.
" Great Scott! man, with such large
ideas, if I were you Td retire from
business."
" Fifty cents per; and they are
worth the money," retorted the tobac-
conist.
Stevenson flshed the required coins
from the depth of a pocket, and left
the shop. "And still the world ex-
pects a poet to put money in the col-
lection plate in church, and wear col-
lars, when it charges him for every
mortal golf ball the price of an immor-
tal line of verse," he soliloquized. He
found Miss O'Malley by the green turn-
stile gate that leads to the lower end
of the links. She had already engaged
two caddies (the usual two — ^Jim of the
red head, and Pete of the paternal
trousers), and as Stevenson approach-
ed she looked severely at her watch. .
"Am I late?" he enquired in deep
concern.
" You have been ten minutes' late
for every appointment this fall," she
said.
"That's just my luck," he explain-
ed, as they moved toward the first tee.
"Whenever I am very keen to be on
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SOMETHING NEW IN GOLF BALLS
65
time for a thing I get ready hours too
soon, make half-a-dozen false starts,
and wind up by being half a day late. "
"Ten minutes," she corrected him.
'* Ah, well, ten minutes or half a day
—they seem to be equal crimes in
your eyes," he murmured.
Miss O'Malley turned her face away
and smiled, and only the caddies saw
It.
She's
**Gee!" whispered Pete.
easy. Wish I wus him."
** You'd make a peach poet — in
them pants," replied Jim of the red
head.
Sydney Stevenson bent close to
Kate O'Malley. ** Why are you so
frightfully down on me ?" he asked in
guarded tones.
She looked at him in cool
surprise. ** Would I spend
two or three hours of every
fine afternoon in your company
if I were down on you ? " she
retorted.
** Oh, you are awfully good
to me," he said plaintively,
"but — well, people are good
to cripples, you know."
She did not speak.
'* I wonder if you would
change your mind if I went
away," he ventured.
*• Why don't you try?" she
asked.
He laughed drily. * * My dear
girl, I have tried about twenty
times."
** I never missed you."
**I mean I tried to go away,"
he explained, ruefully.
By this time they had arrived
at the low, grassy knoll from
which drives were made for
hole number one.
*'Will you lead off, please.
I hate to drive first," she said.
Stevenson's caddy made a
tee of sand from a nearby box,*
and set up a ball with profes-
sional care.
Stevenson was about to
swing his driver when he no- ,
ticed his companion's father,
Captain H. A. O'Malley R.N.
(retired), sauntering across the course
with a butterfly net in his hand.
••Fore," he shouted.
Miss O'Malley smiled.
•• I think father is quite safe," she
said.
•* Fore," shouted Stevenson again.
The burly old sailor turned and wav-
ed his hand frivolously.
•• Slam away, me lad; I'm out of
range of your guns," he hailed.
••I believe he's right," laughed Stev-
enson. He looked at the teed ball.
•* I may as well try a Royal Scotch
High Flyer — something new in golf
balls," he remarked.
The ordinary ball was replaced with
the new and expensive one. Then he
swung his club and made the drive of
**Why are you so frightfully down on me?'
in guarded tones.
he asked
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
his life. Smack! Away it sailed, like tried to lift the fallen one to his feet,
a flying- fish before the wind. The *• Hands off, you lubber," cried old
caddies followed it with open mouths O'Malley.
as well as eyes. The unfortunate golfer ceased his
** Splendid," exclaimed Miss O'Mal- efforts,
ley. •'Father, are you hurt?" panted
Just then old Captain O'Malley Kate.
R.N. hurled his butterfly net in the •* Hurt," roared her father, rolling
air and leaped after it. over and glaring at her. ** Why, the
''Father, are you hurt?" panted Kate.
•* Gee! you've swiped 'im," cried
Pete, gleefully.
'*Good heavens!'* exclaimed Steven-
son, letting his driver slip from his
fingers.
They all dashed toward the now
prostrate and furiously cursing cap-
tain. Stevenson led easily. Miss
O'Malley and the caddies were bunched
for second money. Stevenson, aghast
with fear and trembling with remorse,
d ball went right through me."
'• Gee! I guess it didn't puncture his
lung," remarked Pete, softly.
** I don't see no hole," said Jim —
"and here's de ball." He picked it
up. The girl extended her hand for it
** Do you think you are really hurt,
sir ?" enquired Stevenson, approaching
cautiously.
** What's that?" cried the captain.
"What's that you say? Do I think
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SOMETHING NEW IN GOLF BALLS
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I am really hurt — you fresh-water jok-
er! Give me a hand up, Kate, and Til
show the young cock if I'm to be made
a fool of by every derrick- legged poet
who chooses to run around after my
daughter."
*• Father, how dare you!" cried Miss
O'Malley.
The old man scrambled to his feet
and began to rub the calf of his left
leg.
'' It'll be black and blue," he mut-
tered.
Miss O'Malley burst into peals of
laughter, and hid her facfe in her
hands.
Sydney Stevenson's amazement and
remorse gave way to white hot anger.
He strode toward the old man. ''You
old bounder," he cried. Then, with
equal abruptness, he turned his back
CD the little group and left the links.
His brain was in a whirl. He had not
known that anyone in the world could
be so boorish. . And Kate ? — Kate had
laughed when her father had insulted
him.
II
For days the dejected poet kept
away from the golf course as he would
from a lazaretto. One evening, while
he was busily engaged with his pipe
and a number of ideas that refused to
allow themselves to be turned into
verse, the maid rapped at his study
door and announced Captain O'Malley.
"Tell him I'm out," said Stevenson;
but before the maid could turn around
the captain himself pushed past her and
shut the door in her face.
" Me boy," began the old sailor,
nervously, ** I'm very sorry for what
happened on the links the other day.
Kate made me promise to drop in —
that is, I decided the right thing for
me to do was to call and beg your par-
don."
" It is granted, sir," said Stevenson,
coldly.
** I'll just sit down for a minute,"
said O'Malley. * * Two flights of stairs
always puff me."
The young man pushed his easiest
chair toward his visitor.
The captain sat down, sighed, and
lit his pipe. After blowing a few medi-
tative clouds toward the ceiling, he
turned and fixed an unwinking eye
upon his host. He seemed calmer.
In level tones he began: **I don't
want you to imagine, me boy, that
under ordinary circumstances I'd beg
your pardon for what I said — no sir, a
smash with a golf ball is not to be
lightly overlooked — but me daughter
has told me all, and that put a very
different face on the matter."
' * Yes, it was a new kind of golf
ball — a regular flyer," said Stevenson.
The captain stared. '' But, I think,
Mr. Stevenson, I should have heard
something of it from you," he con-
tinued.
It was now the poet's turn to stare.
** Well!" cried the captain, begin-
ning to work himself into a rage —
** What the devil are you glaring at?
— ^you look as if you didn't know that
you are engaged to marry my daugh-
ter."
Stevenson's face flashed to a danger-
ous shade of gray. He sank into the
nearest chair. O'Malley rushed to a
side table and grabbed a decanter of
Scotch whiskey. Having swallowed
about half a glass of the raw liquor,.
Stevenson looked better.*
'' I intended speaking to you last
Monday, sir," he said, steadily, " but
the unfortunate accident — "
* * Exactly — don't apologize, me boy,""
interrupted the captain. He found
another glass on the table. " I'll just
take a wee nip meself,'* he said. Then
he seemed to remember something,
and putting down the glass took a note
from his pocket. He tossed it to
Stevenson. ** Something from Kate,"
he said.
The poet tore it open with eager
fingers. Thus it ran:
**Dear Sydney,
I hope I have not spoiled your plans. I
always intended to marry a brave man, and
you are surely the bravest in the world. You
called father a bounder, and I have seen him
brow-beat admirals and frighten staff-lieuten-
ants into hysterics. Besides this, I love you.
Bring father home with you.
Kate."
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
A S phaniom li|^ht -fuffut^s dim the rcut,
Precursiiig dawn— nowr subtle radiance tcHi
Thro' h«r cktp cy« the laug-hter near. Where dwellsi
Each captive ditnpL', 'tJi to jo)>'' releaitt ;
In lovely ErDund» ne'er loud Ebo" itwift iiiirrcait.
Her laug^hter bubbles forth, all mirthful welli
To one sweet chime, like peal of ellin bells.
That th rails vith tinglini: pleafliirL.^ till 'tis ceait.
I lo-ve her laugh. *Tis lavish 'd round my aouI
Like lome strange holy baLin — doth e'er a dream
Of bleak depresaton grip me^ swift ihe gleam
Ot that dear laughter than>es my useles.<i dole.
Our world necf laughsi enough ; from him, I deem,
That scorns to Uuffh, takes grief a Inble toll.
Toft.^nCMUKTT.
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THE PEDDLER'S LIFT
By /. W. FULLER, author of ''Isolda''
ENRY GIBSON was hum-
ming some sort of tune as
his old mare jogged along
at a slow, steady gait — not
a joyous note, but a dull,
monotonous drone; audible expression
of the low ebb to which his spirits had
fallen. Why he hummed at all he
could scarcely have told; it had become
a habit during the many years of his
lonely journeyings up and down the
concession lines of a half-dozen town-
In rhythm his measures showed but
scant variation, but the pitch of his
voice was an infallible register of his
frame of mind, and of late this dull
monotone had become, alas, all too
much in evidence.
"Afternoon, Hank I" called a pass-
ing pedestrian, cheerily.
** Why, how do, Mr. Jacques?" re-
turned Henry, pulling up with a start,
*'I declare I didn't see you coming
along. How's all the folk ?"
''Nicely, thank you. Goin' to stop
at the house ?"
'•Well, yes. Got a nice bit o* print
here, I think the Missus'll like."
"Don't think it's much use. She
and the girls was up to town on Tues-
day and fetched home a pile of stuff."
"Oh, ril stop anyhow. Maybe
there's something they forgot," and
the old man's spirits sank a notch low-
er as he gathered up the reins and call-
ed to the mare to " get up."
Throughout that whole section of
country there was no more familiar
figure than Henry Gibson, peddler,
and, with the majority of the people,
none more welcome, though of late
years there had been a waning in
his popularity — a change which poor
Henry had too much cause to fail to
note.
Twenty years ago his advent at a
farmhouse was quite an exciting event.
The women folk suspended their tasks
to give attention to his wares, and the
children stood as close as they dared,
in an ecstacy of open-eyed wonder and
delight at the beauty and variety of the
goods and trinkets he displayed, while
even the men, if they noticed his ar-
rival, thought nothing of quitting their
work in the fields and joining the circle
to appraise his stock and listen to the
latest news from town and the world
at large.
But now there was a decided differ-
ence. His reception, though friendly
as of yore, was marked more by care-
less good nature than the eager cor-
diality of days agone; and open criti-
cism or disparagement of his goods
took the place of the respectful hear-
ing formerly accorded him.
'' I saw better and cheaper than that
in town the other day," or kindred re-
mark, was what he was now forced to
listen to almost daily, and he dared
not challenge the accuracy of the state-
ments. An hour later, he was driving
away from the Jacques farmhouse, his
purse just fifteen cents richer, and his
stock lighter by but a yard of ribbon.
"That print's last season's style;
and the girls wouldn't hear to my mak-
ing any use of it," had been the verdict.
True, he had had a good dinner, for
the hospitality of his customers had not
waned, but for all that Gibson's spirits
were considerably lower than when
Jacques had accosted him upon the
road.
A trolley car whisked by the foot of
the hill he was about to descend.
"A plague upon the pesky things !
I wish the man that made 'em had
never been born !" he exclaimed; for he
shrewdly lay the responsibility for his
ever-declining fortunes at the door of
the radial roads now intersecting the
country.
"Never mind, Henry," his faithful
life partner had counselled, again and
again, "the folk will soon get over the
newness of it, and won't spend so
much time travelling to town; then
69
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
you'll be able to sell as much as ever."
But she had not proven a true
prophetess, and matters were drifting
from bad to worse.
A mental vision now rose before him
of the good old soul, as he had last
seen her — the rays of the early morn-
ing sun glancing upon her whitening
hair and seeming to shed a radiance
about the reposeful, trusting face, as
she bade him a cheery farewell.
** Never fear, Henry I The Lord
will provide. I keep praying about it,
and Tm hoping this week'U see the
turn. He'll never forsake us; remem-
ber that !"
Henry tried to remember, but he
found it hard to equal her faith. That,
or some kindred sentiment had been
her Monday morning farewell for a
long time now, but the lane seemed to
have no turning.
That morning, however, he had felt
more hopeful than usual, and had set
out determined to neglect no effort to
do a brisk week's trade. It was a
glorious October day, with just a hint
of freshness in the air to brace one;
and as he journeyed along the road
skirting the river and drank in the
gorgeous beauty of the wooded hills,
aflame with the varied hues of the
turning leaves, bathed in the flood of
gladdening sunlight, he felt his pulses
quicken while the blood cours.ed more
rapidly through his veins, and his
voice grew lusty and strong as he
shouted forth, over and over again,
several bars oJf an ancient ditty.
But it proved a poor day for busi-
ness, and was followed by other days
equally disheartening until this — Fri-
day— morning had broken dull and
cold with a raw, gusty wind blowing —
a wind which went through and through
his thin garments and quickened into
active life the rheumatism which had
lain dormant during the summer
months. The sun shone but dimly
through the mist of cloud, and a grey
half-twilight brooded over the hills and
valleys, as though in sympathy with
the peddler's discouragement — the en-
tire week's business had not equalled
a respectable half-day's traffic.
** The cottage'll have to go," he mut-
tered to himself by way of diversion
from his cheerless humming.
•* Either that, or we call on Freddie,"
he continued. '' I'd rather go on the
county though !■ — for myself, certain —
but then there's mother !" and again
the vision of that sweet, patient face,
with its fringe of grey locks rose be-
fore him.
Their son Fred was a rising physi-
cian in the West. It had been a long,
hard struggle for the worthy couple to
keep the boy at school and send him to
college; but when they had journeyed
to Toronto — their first visit to the pro-
vincial capital — and saw their boy re-
ceive his degree, they felt well repaid
for all their self-denial. The calls upon
the slender purse did not, however,
cease yet, but continued several years
longer ere the youthful practitioner
could work his way into the enjoyment
of a modest income.
It was during this latter period that
the mortgage had been placed upon
their humble home — an expedient
which they mutually agreed must
never be revealed to Fred. Once
placed, it had never been removed, the
payment of the interest demanding all
their ingenuity, until now it appeared
impossible for them to longer provide
even that; and the dread of foreclosure
had become a veritable waking night-
mare.
The evening shadows were beg^in-
ning to close in.
'^ Guess I'll put up for the night at
Turner's," mused the old man, as he
approached a large farmhouse of con-
siderable pretensions, glistening in all
the glory of a recent coat of paint.
" There's no use travelling farther to-
day, and I can make town by to-morrow
night all right."
** Who's that ?" queried a feminine
voice from the dusky interior, as he
pushed open the kitchen door after
rapping upon it with the butt of his
whip.
''Peddler Gibson," called back the
fourteen-year-old boy who confronted
him.
** Tell him we don't want anything-,"
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THE PEDDLER'S LIFT
71
the hidden voice responded. '* Nothing
at all," with added emphasis.
** But I thought of stopping over
night, Miss Phoebe/' expostulated
Heory, thinking it about time he as-
serted himself.
'* We can't put you up, Mr. Gib-
son," came the decided reply. ** We
had more company than we wanted
last night; and they carried off what
they didn't bring. Peddlers and thieves
— ' birds of a feather flock together,' "
was added in a lower key, but evident-
ly intended for his ears.
Gibson winced.
*' Where's your pa, Jamie?**" he
queried of the boy.
^'Heand Jack and Joe are all out
hunting for the burglars. We don't
know when they'll be back."
** What burglars?"
** Didn't you hear? — a couple of fel-
low came here last night, and asked
to stop. Dad took them in, but this
morning they were gone with over a
hundred dollars he got for a horse yes-
terday, and all the old silverware.
That's what's up with Sis," he added
confidentially. ''She's awful mad about
the silver, 'cause she was counting big
on showing it off at her wedding next
week."
**Stop your talking and shut that
door, Jim," commanded the inner voice
in threatening tones, as Gibson turned
wearily away.
If he waited for Mr. Turner he knew
that he could be sure of a cordial wel-
come; but he had no desire to remain
after the daughter's gratuitous insult.
He had offended Miss Phoebe when she
was yet but a half-grown girl, by per-
suading her mother to buy her a piece
of dress goods, which she had declared
frightfully ugly, and which once pur-
chased she had been compelled to wear
despite all protests.
A jog of two or three miles further
down the road would bring him to the
Walker's, who, he knew, would be
glad to see him; so, although both he
and his old mare were ready to rest,
he gathered up the reins and continued
his journey in the gathering dusk.
A few hundred yards east of the
Walker place the road ran through a
thickly wooded hollow, where the
overhanging trees effectively shut out
what little daylight remained, and
shrouded the highway in deep gloom.
When about half-way through this
copse his steady-going mare sudden-
ly shied, then stood trembling uneas-
ily, and Henry became conscious that
someone was holding her head.
''Hello! What d'you want?" he
demanded somewhat shakily, peering
into the darkness.
" We want a lift," came the reply. ,
"Sorry I can't accommodate you;
but I'm putting up for the night at
the next house."
"Oh, I guess you can strain a
point, and keep right on. We've a
pressing engagement on the other side
of the line, and must make the river
by morning."
This was a different voice, and the
peddler could now make out two
shadowy figures looming up bulkily
upon the right of the roadway.
" I really couldn't think of it, gen-
tlemen," he protested. " Neither the
mare nor I have had a bite since noon,
and we're about played out."
"We're not asking you to make
record time," returned the first voice,
" but we've got to have a lift," and
something in his hand clicked omin-
ously as he drew closer. "Yes; and
we're quite willing to return the com-
pliment by ' lifting' something for
you," chimed in the second voice in
mocking accents.
" Climb in theo," retorted Gibson
ungraciously enough.
" Thank you! and we've a parcel
here we'll just drop into your wag-
gon," and as what looked like a good-
sized clothes-basket struck the floor of
the cart it gave forth an unmistakable
metallic jingle.
"Guess we'll just crawl in here
alongside ourselves. This topll keep
off the night air — and, by-the-way,
friend, you needn't stop to introduce
us to anyone you meet," quoth he
of the mocking voice.
For several hours they jogged along
in silence. Gibson's teeth were chat-
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72
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
tering with the cold, and he shook as
though an ague had come upon him;
but withal, his chief concern was for
his old mare, who was being called
upon for such heavy work upon short
rations. Twice they met other vehi-
cles, and each time the old man felt
something cold and hard pressed
against his back, and again heard that
ominous click. The hint was suffici-
ent, and he continued steadily on his
way with a terse ** How do ?" in pass-
ing.
Just before dawn they encountered
leveral mounted men, whose leader
peremptorily called upon Gibson to
stop, and pressing forward, revealed
himself as the county constable.
•* Now, rU get rid of these gentry!"
thought the peddler; but on the instant
he again felt that suggestive coldness
in the back, and a voice hissed in his
ear:
*• ril kill you, if you give us away!"
'* Oh, it's you Hank!" the constable
greeted. '* Didn't know you kept the
road both night and dsiy."
*• No more I do; but I had to put
on an extra spurt to-night. Didn't see
any burglars along the road ? "
At this question Henry received such
a vicious dig in the ribs as to cause
him almost to cry aloud.
'* Burglars ! " he exclaimed, '* I
wasn't looking for any; and I don't
suppose they'd think my truck worth
taking, if I did run across them.
Where've they been?"
**A couple went through Turner's
place night before last. We thought
they'd made the river and cut across,
but couldn't find any trace; so we're
doubling back. Seen any suspicious
characters ?"
' ' I did see a couple of stranger fel-
lows with a basket some miles back."
A muttered oath from behind reach-
ed Henry's ear', and the pistol was
pressed more firmly to his back.
** The very pair!" exclaimed the con-
stable. "Turner said they'd taken a
basket to carry the stuff. How far
back ?"
** Put 'em off the scent!" was hissed
into Gibson's ear.
''In the wood, a mile this side of
Turner's. They wanted me to give
'em a lift; but I said I guessed I'd
stop at Walker's."
"Cheeky fellows to hang around
that close! Glad to hear it though.
We're sure to get 'em yet. Come on,
boys!" and the party clattered off.
Gibson was loath to see them go,
and heartily wished he had had the
courage to say: ** Here's your men,
constable!" but the close proximity of
that suggestive pistol had overbal-
anced all other considerations.
For another half hour they plodded
steadily along. Suddenly there was a
fusilade of oaths from beneath the
cover behind him.
" Wake that beast up, old man; and
drive for all your worth!"
The peddler turned to see what had
caused this outbreak.
The sun was now up above the east-
ern horizon; but his rays failed to
pierce ^the thick mist which enveloped
the earth, hiding all but nearby ob-
jects, and distorting these into fantas-
tic shapes. On the crest of a consid-
erable hill they had just descended,
several moving figures were silhouet-
ted against the eastern sky; these by
their actions were evidently in pursuit
of the peddler's cart.
•• They've caught on and are com-
ing back!" declared one of his passen-
gers. " Whip up your old nag and
make her travel."
"Get up, Nancy!" called Henry.
"Whip her up, I say! Here, give
me the whip, and I'll lash some life
into her!"
" Get up, Nancy!" repeated the ped-
dler.
"Do you hear? Get out your whip!"
the fellow shouted in his ear, and
prodded him viciously with his pistol.
The worm will turn. Gibson's heart
had been full of sympathy for the old
mare who had carried him so faithfully
in all sorts of weather for so many
years ; and the suggestion that he
should still abuse her rendered him
desperate.
" See here!" he shouted, turning
and facing his tormentor, "I'm get-
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THE PEDDLER'S UFT
73
ing all the travel out of this beast there
is in her, and she'll give me more speed
for the asking than all the lashing you
could do would whip out of her. Keep
quiet and Til do my best; but say any
more about the whip and TU pull her
up short, and you can shoot all you
like! Understand ?''
'* Well, ril be !" exclaimed the
astonished desperado, '' if the fool
doesn't think more of that bag of bones
than he does of his own carcass! —
Well, go it your own way," he added,
but make her travel."
The old man pulled on the reins
with his benumbed hands.
'*Git along there, Nancy! Git
along, my beauty!"
The mare stepped out gallantly, but
the day and night of toil had been poor
preparation for this extra effort.
** Move along, Nancy! Move along!"
**Make her do better than that!''
called a hateful voice from behind.
**You shut up!" Gibson retorted
politely, without turning his head, and
coDtinued to call encouragingly to his
beast. He had no desire to be over-
taken by the constable and his posse,
for he felt that he was in a compromis-
ing position, the simple explanation
ot which might not be readily accepted;
and the cruel gibe of Turner's girl re-
curred to his mfnd with added bitter-
ness.
On went the mare, with the cart be-
hind rattling and bumping over the
hard road. Soon they approached the
outskirts of the town.
** Down toward the river!" ordered
the voice behind, as they came to a
fork in the road; and Gibson dared not
disobey. Presently they passed to the
rear of his own cottage, from the
chimney of which a dim smoke was
curling, indicating that the thrifty
Martha was already astir — intent,
doubtless, on preparations for the ex-
pected homecoming of her spouse that
evening.
The houses were closer together
now, and ere long t;hey were within the
town limits, and making turn after
turn in and out of the various streets
in zigzag fashion, at the dictation of
that imperative voice, but ever draw-
ing closer to the river, beyond which
lay safety.
They were crossing the head of a
wide street leading toward the centre
of the town, when Henry came to a
sudden bold determination. He had
resented the high-handed proceedings
of his self-invited companions; but the
cruel strain put upon his faithful old
mare hurt him much more than the
indignities heaped upon himself, and
he was very loath that such inhuman-
ity should go unpunished.
''Get down out of sight there,
quick!" he called, himself suiting the
action to the word by ducking his
head; but at the same moment he
kicked viciously at an iron lever upon
the cart floor.
Some years ago, Gibson, who was
quite a genius in his way, had contriv-
ed an arrangement for contracting the
canvas top of his waggon, and secure-
ly fastening the framework upon all
sides — this for protection when leaving
it, as he was often forced to do, with
his stock in trade in some open shed
for the night. The lever beneath the
seat operated this mechanism.
There was a crash and a medley of
muffled oaths from beneath the canvas
covering, as Henry sharply swerved
the mare into the wide street, jolting
the wheels over the curbing by the
shortness of the turn. The old man
rose from the seat, and stood swaying
unsteadily upon benumbed and stiffen-
ed limbs, shouting hysterically to his
mare:
*• Git along, Nancy ! Do your pret-
tiest, girl ! Help the old man win !
Keep it up just a little bit longer !
We'll soon get rid of our gay com-
pany ! Up, you old darling, up !"
The wheels rattled over the stones of
the roadway; dogs barked; half-grown
boys yelled in derision at the dilapidat-
ed-looking outfit and its ungainly driv-
er, while continuous cursing, vicious
kicking, rending of canvas, and even a
stray shot from beneath the covering,
added to the din.
Men and women thrust startled and
wondering faces out of windows and
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74
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
doorways; children screamed and
scampered to see; drivers of other
vehicles turned hastily aside; a pomp-
ous guardian of the peace called auth-
oritatively but unavailingly to him to
stop. Surely, no such commotion had
been created in a quiet, law-abiding
town since John Gilpin took his famous
ride !
Gibson drove on wildly, encouraging
the mare by every device he could con-
ceive of, expecting each instant to be
felled or shot from behind. He could
hear the light framework splintering,
and knew that at best it could be but a
few moments ere his prisoners were
free — and then ? —
But he kept on, and just as a sting-
ing blow caught him beneath t^e jaw,
pulled up at the police station. Sev-
eral officers rushed forth to investigate
the hubbub and secured the two scoun-
drels, who were throwing themselves
upon the old man with murderous
intent.
CoM, dazed, bruised and filled with
despair as he contemplated the ruin of
his cart and the general wreckage of
his modest stock, Henry Gibson turn*
ed into the station, but paid scant at-
tention to the proceedings before the
desk sergeant. He took but little in-
terest even when the contents of the
basket were turned out, disclosing the
entire collection of ancient silverware
the Turners were so proud of. Look-
ing listlessly about the room, his eye
caught a placard upon the wall, on
which the printer's ink seemed scarcely
dried. He read it through mechanic-
ally, not grasping the purport of it.
The signature, however, arrested his
attention and recalled his wandering
faculties.
He read it through again, then ques-
tioned the officer at his elbow:
''Tell me, constable, do I get that?"
"Well, I don't know why you
shouldn't I" returned the other, heart-
ily. " Here's the burglars, and here's
the silver, for the return of which and
the conviction of the thieves John
Turner offers a reward of $i,ooo.
You're in luck. Hank !"
The old man felt a sudden weakness.
He sat down quickly, while thoughts
of a cancelled mortgage, replenished
stock, and — sweet morsel ! — a full
apology from Turner's daughter flash-
ed through his brain, while before his
mental vision again arose the picture
of the serene, calm, confident face of
Martha, his wife, as she had stood
upon the Monday morning and bidden
him go forth in the assurance that the
. Master would care for them.
When the examination was over, he
walked out dreamily. As he reached
the sidewalk, three tall figures astride
ungainly plough horses came down the
street.
" Hello, Hank !" shouted Will Nor-
ris, pulling up, while his two lank sons
continued on their way. "You're
making quick time this week, aren't
you? Me and the boys thought
'twas your cart ahead of us a bit back
on the road and tried to catch you up,
but you was going too lively. There's
mettle in that old nag, of yourn yet !
The Missus was speaking of a bit of
linen you promised to bring her this
week. Keep it in mind. Hank. We're
making to haul timber this mornin', so
I can't stop no longer."
"Yes," whispered Henry to his
mare, as he rubbed his cheek against
her muzzle, lovingly, "one of them
fellows said they'd like to lift some-
thing for me, but I didn't think it'd
be the mortgage — guess he didn't
either ! "
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DURING the past month the people
of Great Britain have lost another
of the prominent men of the Victorian
era. The Duke of Cambridge, who
died on the 17th of March in his 85th
year, was one of the connecting links
with the days in which Queen Victoria
began to rule the destinies of Greater
Britain. He may not have been a
military genius either in administration
or on the field of battle, but he had
mixed so long with the army and had
seen so many generations of it come
and go that he was regarded through-
out the Empire as **The Grand Old
Man of the service."
Lord Wolseley in his recent work
wrote of the Duke as follows: '*l liked
him more and more the better I knew
him. Indeed no one who served for so
many years on his staff could fail to
love his amiable qualities or admire his
manliness of feeling. His honesty of
purpose, loyalty to the army, devotion
to duty, sincere patriotism and great
attachment to his Queen and country
pervaded all he did."
In fact, without overdrawing the
picture very much, one might compare
him with the admirals and generals
who gave such honourable and devot-
ed allegiance to Queen
Elizabeth at a time
when chivalry and
romance were more
popular. At the ser-
vice in the Abbey on
March 22nd the con-
gregation included the
King and Queen, the
Prince and Princess of
Wales, Duke of Con-
naught and other
members of the royal
family. The eighteen
pallbearers included
five field-marshals and several general
oflScers. From the Abbey the proces-
sion took its way to Kensal Green
Cemetery, the King following as the
chief mourner. In this quiet resting
place the remains of the Duke were
laid in a private mausoleum beside
those of his wife, although one would
have naturally expected that they
should be placed in Westminster be-
side those of the other great men of
the nation.
The present British House of Com-
mons is breaking up into new groups
and new parties. It is only a matter
of time until the members have so re-
arranged themselves that a new Gov-
ernment will be necessary. One of the
first points to be decided is who shall
lead the new Liberal Government.
This point has been awaiting decision
since the death of Mr. Gladstone, and
even now men hesitate to express an
opinion. The following paragraph
from Public Opinion^ London, of
March 25th, gives a somewhat new
point of view:
**At the next General Election the confu-
sion of parties is likely to be worse con-
founded by the attitude of the Irish National-
GENERAL KUROPATKIN GOES TO THE FRONT — Life
75
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76
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
THE GROWTH OF THE NAVIES
IN NINETEEN HUNDRED AND UMPTY-TWO — Detroit NewS
ists. Free importers like the Spectator have
invited the Liberal Party to throw over Home
Rule» in order to render it possible for Union-
ist recalcitrants to work with them, and we
have had assurances from various Liberal
quarters that Home Rule, on Gladstone lines,
at any rate, no longer forms part of the Radi-
cal programme. They who speak thus do
not reckon with Mr. John Redmond. At Man-
chester, on Sunday last, he predicted an early
General Election, and said the issue would
not be decided on fiscal reform, army reform,
or Chinese labour in the Transvaal. It would
be decided by a body of men whose first care
is to secure Home Rule for Ireland. Mr.
Redmond evidently believes that the Irishoien
will hold the balance, and has determined to
use his opportunities for the advancement of
National aspirations. He hopes that the next
election may result in a balance between
Radicals and Tories, so that they will be
eager to propose alternative plans of Home
Rule in order to secure the Irish vote."
The question of Chinese labour in
South Africa has been agitating the
public mind there and in Great Britain
for some time. When the subject was
first discussed last year the best opin-
ions in South Africa were against it.
Lord Milner and those interested in the
mines urged it as a
grave necessity. Peo-
ple would not hear of
it. However, a revul-
sion of feeling has
taken place; theTrans-
vaal Chamber of Com-
merce who voted
against it last year by
50 to 5, has now re-
vised its opinion and
advocates it by a vote
of 61 to II. The
Bishop of Pretoria has
recently declared that
it is* the only solution
of present difficulties.
Lord Milner asserts
that the introduction
of Chinese labour is
the one way to stop
the present exodus of
white men from British
Africa, and he strong-
ly urges that for every
10,000 coloured la-
bourers introduced in-
to the Colony that
whites will follow in
time. In the British
House of Commons the subject has
been hotly debated and the Opposi-
tion proposed a vote of censure in the
following terms: **That this House
disapproves the conduct of His Majes-
ty's.Government in advising the Crown
not to disallow the ordinance for the
introduction of Chinese labour into the
Transvaal." The Government's ma-
jority was only 57. The Bishop of
Hereford protested that the Govern-
ment had been listening to Lord Mil-
ner and the mine owning interests in-
stead of the real Africanders. Veil it
as they might this ordinance is the
essence of slavery. Lord Spencer
thought that the word slavery might
be an exaggeration, but agreed that
the conditions were semi-servile. Lord
Lansdowne declared that the regula-
tions suit the requirements of the Colony
and suit the Chinese themselves, and
that the Government is prepared to ac-
cept full responsibility for its action. Mr.
Lyttelton, the Colonial Secretary, point-
10,000 more
three years'
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CURRENT EVENTS ABROAD
77
ed out that twenty-six
meetings had been held
in the Transvaal in fa-
vour of the new policy
and only five or six
against it. It was in-
correct to say that all
the self-governing Col-
onies were against this
policy. Natal and Ca-
nada had refused to in-
terfere, recognizing
that this was a matter
which concerned the
Transvaal alone. The
Chinese coolie in South
Africa would do well
too, because he would
receive at least twelve
times the wages he
could earn in his own
country.
The result of the
controversy and of the
various votes which
have been taken would
seem to be that the
British Empire will ac-
quiesce in introduc-
ing a species of contract-labour into
South Africa because there are certain
economic difficulties to be grappled
with which cannot be met in any other
way. It is to be hoped that the prac-
tical experiment will not be as obnox-
ious as the theoretical principle in-
volved.
Sir Wilfrid Laurier, in his opening
address to the Dominion Parliament
on March loth, was not very compli-
mentary to the United States, and de-
clared that it was not the purpose of
the Government to ask any favours of
that country. He boldly asserted that
Canada had made her last request for
fairer trade relations, and that any
new negotiations looking toward re-
ciprocity must be initiaited by the Unit-
ed States. In these sentiments the
Premier undoubtedly represents the
public opinion of Canada, but he in
common with all other fair-minded
men on both sides of the boundary
line must deplore the foolishness of
FEUDAL JAPAN AND MODERNIZED JAPAN
He was handsomer in his old time clothes, and we were
far happier" — Intransigeant (Paris)
the situation. Perhaps, after the Presi-
dential elections which are to be held
in November, those who favour reci-
procity will be able to speak out more
boldly.
The Russo-Japanese war, which
started out with such a rush and with
such great promise of victory for the
Japanese, has dragged on for two
months without any great develop-
ments. The military strategists who
sit at home and tell us all about it
have been sore put to say what is being
done and what particular lines of action
are being developed. The correspond-
ents who have gone to the front have
sent back no information that is worth
while, and we are almost without ac-
curate knowledge of the situation.
For days and weeks a huge battle has
been expected in Northern Corea, but
this has not yet happened. There is
no doubt, however, that the delay
makes for the advantage of Russia.
General Kuropatkin has reached the
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78
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Britannia — ''Dear me! What is all that noise out in the yard,
Johnny?"
Johnny — '*It's only Sammy. He wants me to %o out and play
reciprocity with him, and I don't want to." — Montreal Star
East, having made the trip in two
weeks. He and Admiral MakarofF
have infused new life into the land and
naval forces of the Czar. With the
opening of navigation on Lake Baikal
Russian reinforcements and supplies
will go forward with greater rapidity.
Meanwhile Japan is not idle and is
making strenuous efforts to entrench
herself in Corea. The Marquis Ito is
on a special commission to the Corean
Court and remains in Seoul. There is
no doubt that so long as he is present
in that country everything will be done
that can be done to increase the railway
accommodation, the efficiency of the
methods of transportation, and to so
strengthen the fortifications that it will
be very difficult to dislodge the soldiers
of the Mikado.
So far as the sea-fights are concern-
ed, the moral victory is with Japan.
The Russians have lost several vessels.
possibly through
carelessness, possib-
ly because of Japan-
ese torpedo-boat dar-
ing. But the loss of
these vessels, though
material, is a matter
of less consequence
than the loss of Ad-
miral Makaroff, who
apparently was the
greatest of all. Rus-
sian naval officers.
He was energetic,,
daring and skilful.
His death increases
the difficulties which
General Kuropatkin
will be called upon ta
face. The Baltic
Squadron is not ex-
pected to reach the
East before the end
of August. The new
Admiral will have
difficulty in defend-
ing himself in the
meantime against an
enemy who is much
stronger. In fact, he
is confronted by an al-
most impossible task.
The Combes Government in France
is now given a further lease of life,
namely, until the Chamber resumes its
sessions after the Easter holidays.
But one may be pardoned for growing
skeptical as to prophecies of Dr.
Combes' downfall. He was to be de-
feated on the measure expelling the
congregations, then on the prohibition
of religious teaching, and then on the
issue afforded by the ineptness of Min-
ister Pelletan of the navy. All these,
however, have been survived. The
latest slap at the Church (the order for
the removal of all religious emblems
from the court of justice) has met with
much less approval from the French
people than was given to the measures
which vitally affected Church influence.
It looks more like an exhibition of spite
than a justifiable administrative in-
novation.
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V^rfAN
^PMtRL
t^-a'O'-Q:^
THE SUNSHINE BRIGADE
Make way, make way, for the Sunshine Brig-
ade!
There comes no gloom where its troops have
strayed,
For they bear the peace of the fairy dells,
And laughter's the music that ripples and
swells
To the rhythmic tread of their marching feet.
And they love the world, for the world is
sweet;
And Worry and Trouble creep back, dis-
mayed,
When they view the flag of the Sunshine
Brigade.
Make place, make space for the Sunshine
Brigade
As it cheerfully marches, in joy arrayed.
For the world has need of laughter's tone.
And has worries and flurries enough of its
own;
And a smiling face is a message of cheer:
"Let the world wag on, there is blessing
here."
Oh, we need them all on life's upward grade.
The beautiful folks of the Sunshine Brigade.
Recruits, recruits for the Sunshine Brigade,
From those who have wandered and stumbled
and strayed.
Yet know the sweet music of laughter's glad
song.
That defeat presses down the battalions of
wrong;
Who know the love that was born to bless.
The pressure of lips in a fond caress,
From those who are blessed through the ran-
som Christ paid,
Recruits, recruits for the Sunshine Brigade !
— Alfred Y. Waterhouse.
ALL this month housefurnishing'and
bric-a-brac shops everywhere
will be haunted by prospective June
brides and bridegrooms, intent upon
the exciting and fascinating task of
making cosy and habitable the' new
homes they are soon to occupy.;^ I
should like to call the attention of
these young people — and, indeed, of
householders everj'where — to a very
interesting and helpful article on house-
furnishing which appeared recently in
that excellent periodical, The House
Beautiful.
The Chinese have a' proverb which
runs: " A hundred men may make an
encampment, but it takes a woman to
make a home,*' and since this is unde-
niably true, it is to be regretted that
more women do not realize that in
making a pretty h(mse they are not
necessarily ensuring for themselves
and their families a comfortable home,
I know a young bride who takes
great delight in what she considers
her pretty home, its many silk drapes,
pale-tinted, showy curtains, and med-
ley of bric-a-brac, being a source of
much pleasure and pride to her ; but
no one except herself finds any com-
fort in her rooms, her poor husband
feeling really at ease only in his own
little smoking den. Masculine visit-
ors seat themselves with inward fear
upon her fragile little chairs and flimsy
settees, and feminine guests breathe a
sigh of relief if they emerge from the
house without having overturned with
sleeves or skirt sorhe of the breakable
articles of virtu with which high
tables, low tables, and even the floor
are covered.
The author of the article mentioned
above makes very clear the two import-
ant points to be constantly borne in mind
by the house-furnisher — simplicity and
79
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utility. A heterogeneous medley of
silk drapes, rich portieres and orna-
ments crowded together on tables,
shelves and mantel piece, forever de-
stroys in a room any claim to beauty
which its owner may make for it.
Here are a few trenchant gleanings
from Miss Spicer's admirable little
article:
< < We collect things which mean
something to us, but if that meaning is
not apparent to others, the articles
would better be kept in a place where
they will be seen by us alone, and they
may be shdwn and explained to those
who are interested a table used
merely to show off small articles of
ornament seems meaningless, a shelf
or mantel is more suitable for this
purpose As the mantel is usually
the thing in the room which first
catches the eye, take pains to put on
it your best and most effective things.
A few large jars and bits of pottery
will look far more dignified than a lot
of meaningless little things If
young people would only remember
that they have a lifetime before them,
that it is easier at first to get along
with two good dining chairs and a
packing-box than to feel later on like
disposing of six or eight mediocre
chairs and beginning all over again,
that it is better to have one good jar
than a dozen poor ones, they would
make haste slowly. The standard of
a really fine thing is its lastingness.
If you love your possessions more and
more each year they must be good,
but if you soon outgrow them they
were never worth the loving."
Speaking of houses, it is rather in-
teresting to compare the various styles
of architecture which at present flour-
ish in our country. Coming directly
from the east to the extreme west, one
is particularly struck by the great dif-
ference between the houses of — say
Quebec, and the houses of British Col-
umbia.
As climate is largely responsible for
fashions in clothes, so is it a determin-
ing factor in fashions in building, and,
naturally, one would not expect to find
an open, wide-verandahed bungalow in
the Arctic zone, nor a heavily-built,
thick-walled, stone dwelling in the
tropics, but surely Quebec architects
could design houses warm enough to
withstand the rigorous winter of that
Province, and yet possessing some
small degree of comfort and beauty.
In Montreal, where the question of
space must be considered, one can
understand the supposed necessity
which impelled the builders of that city
to erect their cheaper dwelling houses
in tiers, one above the other, where
families are neatly stowed as cattle and
sheep are packed in railway cars.
But in building detached houses in
ample grounds there is really no reason
or excuse for carrying out the same
cramping ideas. Montreal and Que-
bec are essentially cities of ugly houses,
of long, unbroken rows of chill, forbid-
ding-looking dwelling places, straight,
sombre and formal as to exterior, un-
inviting and stiff as to interior.
A Toronto lady who went to live in
Quebec last winter, after much house
hunting was forced to enshrine her
Lares and Penates in a typical Lower
Canadian domicile.
The laundry, kitchen and kitchen
accessories were on one floor; the din-
ing-room and a small den occupied the
next; over these were her bedroom, the
drawing-room and bathroom, while the
top flat contained a bedroom occupied
by the small son of the house, the
maid's room and a sewing-room. In
the spring the exhausted mistress of
this convenient and comfortable house
gave it up and fled to a cottage in the
country where she could recover a little
of the strength and vitality wantonly
consumed by those three flights of nar-
row vampire-like flights of stairs which,
owing to the clever arrangement of the
house, had to be trod countless times
daily.
In Montreal the same manner of
house prevails. The Lower Canadian
architects of to-day are, perhaps, be-
ginning to feel the wave of "modern
ideas'' which is sweeping over the con-
tinent, but for the sins of the arch-
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WOMAN'S SPHERE
8i
itects of yesterday thous-
ands of Montreal and Que-
bec women will yet be forced
to suffer for many a long
day.
It is better in Toronto,
Ottawa and Hamilton, most
of the residential parts of
these cities having been
built comparatively recent-
ly, and one sees f^ewer of
the unattractive, one-sided
houses in which the rooms
are strung like small beads
on a long, narrow hall run-
ning in a thin, unbroken line
from the front door to the
kitchen.
Designers of houses are
beginning to realize that
space and light in one's
dwelling place are two very
desirable, if not absolutely
essential features, and so
every year in Ontario one
sees a greater number of
houses with square, roomy
hails and wide windows.
Just now the tendency —
much to be commended — is to spread
the house, putting into two or three
stories the same number of rooms that
used to be squeezed tier-like into four
or five, thus dispensing with unneces-
sary, back-breaking stairs.
Of houses in Winnipeg I am not in
a position to speak with authority, not
having been in a sufficient number to
make my comments of value, but in
Victoria and Vancouver the problem of
building pretty, comfortable, and in
every respect thoroughly satisfactory
houses is nearer solution than in any
other part of Canada I know. Here
one finds wide, roomy halls, frequent-
ly swelling out into cosy nooks, fire-
place ingles, or even reception rooms,
drawing-rooms so pretty and com-
fortable as to at once suggest the
American comprehensive and expres-
sive name for such apartments — ^Htv-
ing-roomsy' in the truest sense of the
word, and bedrooms which, while not
DAISY BELL
A centenarian Indian Basket-weaver of British Columbia
uncommonly large, yet give one a de-
lightful impression of sunlight and
breathing-space.
Few houses are without a liberal
supply of open fireplaces, and the
much-carved, mirror-decked, ornate
and very **cheap" overmantels so
popular in the East are here replaced
by a mantelpiece of plain wood, usual-
ly oiled cedar, mirrorless and uncarv-
ed, whose straight, clean lines, besides
giving dignity and character to the
whole room, are to the tired eyes of
the real art-lover a rest and a joy for-
ever.
A very popular style of small dwell-
ing in Vancouver is a little house of a
story and a half, locally known as a
bungalow, and one has only to go
over a few of them to realize and ap-
preciate the comfort and beauty of
these cosy, well-planned little resi-
dences.
Houses of this kind are sorely need-
ed in our Eastern cities, where it is al-
most impossible to get a small, inex-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
pensive house in a desirable locality.
Every young couple starting in life
with a slender income swells the gen-
eral wail, and in their search for a nest
they are confronted with the unat-
tractive alternative — a narrow, little
brick-fronted house in a row where
congenial neighbours will be an un-
known quantity, or '* apartments*' in
some private house, than which, ex-
cept in most rare instances, no method
of living is quite so undesirable. The
flats and large apartment houses
which are being built in Winnipeg,
Toronto and Montreal, do not solve
this small-income problem, for, being
^* new and fashionable," rents are
higher than for ordinary houses, and
the flats and suites of rooms in
these modern buildings can be occu-
pied only by the really well-to-do.
Poker work — or pyrography, to be
technical — as a popular feminine pas-
time is rapidly giving place to basket-
weaving, which really is a very charm-
ing and fascinating occupation for the
girl who craves some pretty task pour
passer le temps,
Mexican grass is the favourite ma-
terial employed, though rafia is com-
ing into favour. The latter may be
bought at any seed store, or from flor-
ists, who use it to tie up bunches of
their wares, or it may be obtained
dyed in any colour at almost any dry-
goods or fancy-goods shop.
A lady from the South, who spent
last summer in Muskoka, showed me
some really wonderful baskets, which
she was justly proud to exhibit as her
own handiwork. She made them in
all shapes and sizes, weaving into
them beautiful decorations in most
curious and attractive designs. One
very pretty little work-basket in pale
green had a flock of blackbirds encir-
cling it in a zig-zag line.
While it, of course, requires skill
and practice to work in very elaborate
or intricate patterns, simple basket-
weaving is not at all difficult, and even
without a book of instructions, which
is easily obtainable, the average nim-
ble-fingered girl, given reeds, rafia and
a needle, could soon find herself mis-
tress of the art.
Many ingenious girls are making
their own spring and summer hats this
year out of rafia, either braiding it and
sewing it round and round as one
would sew straw-braid, or weaving it
in and out over a wire shape. A wide-
brimmed rafia hat in the natural shade,
trimmed with a simple wreath of bright
red poppies, would make a very attract-
ive hat to wear with linen and piqud
shirt-waist suits.
While the Indian women of Ontario
and Quebec devote themselves particu-
larly to beadwork and making baskets
and boxes of birchbark and porcupine
quills, those of the West work only
with reeds and grasses, making bask-
ets of all sizes and designs.
Each tribe does one special kind of
weaving, so that one who has made
^en a slight study of the subject can
tell from a single glance at a basket
just where it was made; though it is
a rather remarkable and interesting
fact that an Indian will never make
two baskets exactly alike — there must
be some slight difference in size, col-
our or design, else ill-luck will befall
the weaver.
The finest and most valuable bask-
ets are made by the Indian women of
northern British Columbia and Alaska,
fifty or a hundred dollars being by no
means an uncommon price to pay for
a well-made Attn basket.
One is glad to learn that the King's
Daughters of Victoria are to hold a
yMade-in-Canada Exhibition** this
month. From the gratifying respon-
ses which the ladies in charge of the
exhibition have received from the man-
ufacturers to whom they have written
for exhibits, and from the enthusiastic
interest which is being taken in the
enterprise, there is every indication
that the exhibition will be an unquali-
fied success. The good wishes of
WomarCs Sphere are with the King's
Daughters in their commendable un-
dertaking.
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CANADA AND ST. LOUIS
THE large number of CaDadians pre-
paring to visit the Exposition at
St. Lpouis, which opens on April 30th,
indicates that there is no subsidence of
interest in World's Fairs. Besides, it
will be as easy for Canadians to go to
St. Louis as it was to visit Chicago,
because the greater distance is count-
erbalanced by faster trains. The Ca-
nadian visitors will no doubt go main-
ly during May, September, October
and November, the three intervening
months being too hot for people from
northern latitudes.
The Fair will not likely be remark-
able in introducing new features. Chi-
cago and Buffalo worked out the plas-
ter building and electric light ideas
fairly well, and St. Louis has been
obliged to follow along the same lines.
The grounds contain about 1,240
acres, while the Chicago Fair covered
633 acres, Paris 336 acres, and Buffalo
300 acres. The main exhibit palaces are
to be nine in number, and will roof
over 128 acres as compared with Chi-
cago's 82 and Buffalo's 15. The key-
note to the show will be ** Processes
rather than Products," and perhaps
this will be the feature which will dis-
tinguish the Fair in history.
The plan of the grounds is compara-
tively simple. In the ground selected
there was a natural hill, somewhere
about seventy feet in height. On this
was built a Festival Hall flanked by a
curved architectural screen or peri-
style. Down one side of the hill, to-
ward the group of exhibition palaces
at the foot, are terraces and cascades
flanking each other, the cascades emp-
tying into a great basin which lies in
the centre of the grounds. The larger
buildings are grouped together so that
they may be viewed from the Festival
83
Hall hill and its terraced side. The
other four hundred odd buildings are
scattered here and there through the
grounds.
Canada is to be represented by a
building and some exhibits. Probably
both will be as inadequate as they were
at Buffalo. There will be the usual
chunks of ore, a sheaf or two of wheat,
some dead fish, a few fur-bearing ani-
mals and an odd picture of an Indian*
There will be a profusion of uninterest-
itig government pamphlets, dull and
deadly, and an obvious lack of attend-
ants who know the country and its re-
sources. Worse than all there will be
a collection of Canadian art! Yet the
worst will not happen, since there is
to be no exhibit of Canadian news-
papers and magazines.
THE ST. LOUIS IDEA
CANADA cannot have much sym-
pathy with the St. Louis idea,
because it is essentially a glorification
of expansion — United States expan-
sion. The full significance of this can
be estimated only by a survey of the
territorial development of that country
during the last hundred years.
When the nineteenth century opened,^
the western boundary of the United
States was the Mississippi river; but
this did not include Florida, nor the
vast unlimited territory known as
Louisiana, the general term for the
Mississippi valley. These districts be-
longed to Spain, which had obtained
them by occupation and the general
settlement of 1762. Just as the Unit-
ed States settlements were prepared
to flow over on this Spanish territory,
a fortunate situation evolved itself. In
1801, Napoleon, desiring to re-estab-
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84
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
lish French colonial reputation, secured
Louisiana from the Spanish, entering
into an engagement not to dispose of
the province, but to return it to Spain
if his plans miscarried. Talleyrand
gave the most positive declaration that
it should never again be alienated from
France. Great Britain did not like this
new proprietorship, as she did not de-
sire an extension of Napoleonic power
on the continent of America, since it
would be likely to disturb her French
subjects in Canada. Knowing this,
the United States saw an opportunity
worth considering. This position was
further complicated by trouble be-
tween the United States and Napoleon
in San Domingo, and by misunder-
standings with Spain over the navi-
gation of the Mississippi. At first,
the United States, was prepared to ac-
cept West Florida in liquidation of
such claims as she had at that time.
Eventually the United States' desire
for West Florida grew to a desire for
the whole Mississippi valley, including
New Orleans. In March, 1803, Mon-
roe was sent to Paris to make increas-
ed demands of France. He was back-
ed up by the British, who preferred an
extension of Anglo-Saxon influence to
an increase of French influence. Na-
poleon's necessities, however, settled
the question. He needed more money;
and his experience in San Domingo
led him to doubt the wisdom of try-
ing a huge settlement in Louisiana. He
was abandoning his ideas of colonial
greatness, and besides, another war
with Great Britain was imminent.
On the 2nd of May he signed a treaty
selling Louisiana to the United States
(over one million square miles), for
$11,250,000, and a liquidation of
United States claims for damages in
other quarters of $3,750,000 or a total
of fifteen million dollars. This was the
Louisiana purchase which is now to be
celebrated by a Universal Exposition
at St. Louis, then a small trading
post. On the 20th of December, 1903,
the province of Louisiana was official-
ly surrendered to Governor Claiborne,
of Mississippi, and General Wilkinson,
of the United States army. The trans-
fer of Upper Louisiana took place at
St. Louis on the 8th and loth of March,
1804.
Then the United States proceeded to
secure Florida and dispossess Spain
of all her territory east of the Missis-
sippi. All sorts of expedients were re-
sorted to which would cause trouble and
create ''claims" against the govern-
ment of Spain. Finally, in 1821, a
treaty ceded to the United States all of
the Floridas and all territory belong-
ing to Spain west of the Mississippi,
with the exception of what is now
Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and
Southern California. This settlement
cost the United States about six and a
half million dollars.
Of course, the next step was to con-
tinue the quarrel and to put peculiar
interpretations on these various treat-
ies. The United States citizens in
Texas gave the Mexican governor all
the trouble they could. In 1833 ^^^y
asked the Mexican Government to
allow them to organize a separate
State. The refusal was followed by a
revolution and the organization of a
republic under General Sam Houston,
in December, 1835. A little later the
United States recognized the new re-
public. Finally, in 1845, Texas was
annexed to the United States, the sum
of $10,000,000 being applied to the
liquidation of the debts of the republic.
But even this did not satisfy the
land-hunger of this branch of our race.
Mexico's protests led to a glorious war,
with the result that in 1848 New Mex-
ico and California were added to the
United States in return for $15,000,-
000. The despoliation of Mexico con-
tinued, and soon afterwards the exist-
ing boundary between the two coun-
tries was defined.
From Great Britain also, the United
States has secured several concessions.
The Jay treaty of 1793 between Great
Britain and the United States decided
that commissions should be appointed
to survey the upper Mississippi River
and to determine the boundary between
the United States and Canada along
the St. Croix River. Further provi-
sions for boundary commissions were
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PEOPLE AND AFFAIRS
85
U, »HTtl. «M*^ «UV.
MAP OF CENTRAL PORTION WORLD'S FAIR GROUNDS, ST. LOUIS
Festival Hall, built on a terraced hill, overlooks the larg-e exhibition buildings, grouped
around the Grand Basin at the foot of the hill.
inserted in the Treaty of Ghent which
closed the war of 18 12- 13-14. By the
Treaty of London of i8i8 the United
States gained some ancient British
territory in the north by a provision
which declared that the boundary
should be along the 49th parallel of
north latitude from the northwestern
point of the Lake of the Woods to the
Rocky Mountains.
Another article in this important
treaty provided that the country west
of the Rockies claimed by either party
should be free and open to the people of
both nations for ten years. This was a
great gain for the United States, espe-
cially since earlier in the year a United
States military force had taken posses-
sion of Fort George at the mouth of
the Columbia River and renamed it
Fort Astoria. The United States
chances were therefore materially im-
proved by this subsequent treaty, be-
cause it acknowledged the propriety of
this theft and gave them time for
further aggression. The ten-year
period was still further extended in
1827 with some small gains, and final-
ly by the Treaty of Washington of
1846, the present boundary line was
agreed upon and the United States
flag has since continued to fly over
most of the disputed territory. To
this interesting tale may be attach-
ed the story of how Daniel Web-
ster, by concealing the Franklin map
of the boundary agreed upon in 1783
between New Brunswick and Maine —
to use the modern names, secured
7,000 square miles of territory by the
Ashburton Treaty of 1842.
The acquisition of Alaska was an-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
DR. JAMESON
The New Premier of Cape Colony
Other diplomatic triumph for the Unit-
ed States. They had once claimed the
coastline as far north as Bering
Strait, but in 1825 Russia and Great
Britain settled upon a certain district
as being Russian territory. In 1867
these Russian territorial rights were
purchased by the United States for
$7,200,000, and in 1903 these rights
were further confirmed by the Alaskan
Boundary Commission appointed by
Great Britain and the United States.
The territorial expansion of the
United States, due to the war with
Spain, is also recent history. The
Philippine Islands haye an area of 115,-'
300 square miles and a population of
eight millions. Hawaii, or the Sand-
wich Islands, contain nearly 7,000
square miles and a population of 150,-
000. Porto Rico is about half that
area, but has a population of a million,
being the most densely populated por-
tion of the United States territory.
Guam and Samoa are also recent ac-
quisitions.
To make the same progress in the
twentieth century as she has made in
the nineteenth, the United States would
require to conquer a large portion of
the continent of America. She has
made a start in Panama, and no doubt
other portions of Central America will
be selected in due course. One attempt
to conquer Canada was made in the
nineteenth century, and some people
claim that a second will be made dur-
ing the twentieth. To read the history
of the Great Republic during tlie past
hundred years and then to imagine
that from henceforth the people of that
country will refrain from annexing nevi^
territory is to write one's self down an
idle dreamer.
IN SOUTH AFRICA
CANADA is vitally interested in the
reorganization of South Africa, be-
cause to the other British Colonies she
must look for future trade development.
The progress made since the Boer war
has not been satisfactory to the onldok-
er, although it may be to Lord Milner
and his associates. No doubt, there
are great difficulties. New problems
and unexpected conditions have a habit
of arising to confront us when we least
expect them.
Dr. Jameson, the ex-convict and new
Premier, has introduced his first meas-
ure after the elections. It is a Redis-
tribution Bill, which is expected to en-
sure a fairer measure of representation
to the British element. He proposes
to create three new seats in the Legis-
lative Council and twelve for the As-
sembly, and to distribute these among
the principal towns. The wings of the
Bond are to be clipped.
There is something romantic in the
career of this young Scotchman who
landed in Cape Colony, twenty-six
years ago, to try his fortune at a distant
outpost of the Empire. In Kimberley
he shared rooms with a young man
named Cecil Rhodes. Every person
knows how this friendship led to the
Jameson Raid in May, 1896, and re-
sulted in putting Dr. Jameson in con-
vict dress. Concerning this Raid Dr.
Jameson has spoken candidly and wit-
tily. "Revolution," he once said, **to
be justified must be successful — ours
was not. I made a mess of it and got
fifteen months — that is all. No, I may
add one thing, I deserved fifteen years
— for failing." John A. Cooper
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DAINTY LITERATURE
CANADA is a land whose sentiment
is somewhat rugged and unrefin-
ed— to speak generally, and not un-
kindly. There is little of the pictur-
esque in Canadian life. Nature pre-
sents a strong, rugged appearance to
the people of this country, and conse-
quently its people are farmers, herds-
men, miners and hunters. No one
would call the Canadians a dainty, art-
loving, pleasure-seeking race. We
are men of muscle, of action, of dar-
ing, of military ambition. Gentleness
is of little use in a country where food
is gained so hardly, where trees cum-
ber the productive soil, where long,
stern winters make our summers nec-
essarily more active, where stern,
rocky mountains and hills cross and
recross the fertile belts, where Nature
yields her products and her secrets so
unwillingly. Besides, our civilization
is new. Canada is a babe among the
nations. Instead of a thousand years
of history, she has only a couple of cen-
turies— three, at the outside. Medi-
aevilism even has barely left its mark
upon the country — there are few ruins,
few relics of an ancient age around
which mellow sentiment might gather.
So our literature is solemn. Our
spoken speech is harsh in its vowel
sounds^. Our language is bold and
direct. Our common expressions lack
in daintiness and that circumlocution
which is picturesque. The short sto-
ries and novels which reflect Canadian
life are as harsh, as abrupt and as
rough-hewn as our speech and our
sentiments. The average Canadian
writer does not play with thoughts, ex-
pressions and words. He is forcible,
but seldom picturesque.
Perhaps, as we grow older, we shall
acquire the habit. We may learn how
to describe the beauties of nature, the
varying moods of human beings, the
complex phenomena of human senti-
ment in coloured words and phrases.
We may lose our directness. We may
lose our simple classifications of human
motives, thoughts and action, and
evolve a pyschological attitude similar
to that of nations whose civilization
and mental vision go back to the time
of the Parthenon and other ancient
glories of Greece. But at present we
are unblushingly crude.
This unavoidable state of affairs is
brought home to us when we read the
literature of European nations — espe-
cially of the Romance countries. Zola,
Dumas, Maupassant, Ouida, perhaps
Sienkiewitz and Tolstoi — to use famil-
iar names — have no counterparts or
even distant followers in Canada, and
very few even in the United States.
These thoughts are suggested in a
way by a reading of ** My Friend
Prospero," by Henry Harland,* an Ital-
ian story written by an Englishman
who has followed in the footsteps of
George Eliot, Robert Browning and
^Marion Crawford, and sought balmy
climes, for sunny pictures. He finds a
magnificent castle with
** its endless chain of big, empty, silent,
splendid state apartments, with their pave-
ments of gleaming marble, in many-coloured
patterns, their painted and gilded ceilings,
tapestried walls, carved wood and moulded
stucco, their pictures, pictures, pictures, and
their atmosphere of stately desolation, their
memories of another age, their reminders of
the pomp and power of people who had long
been ghosts."
In and around this wild Italian val-
ley ** with olive-clad hills blue-gray at
either side," he weaves a delicate ro-
* Toronto: William Briggs.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
mance. The blue-eyed Anglo-Saxon
young man seeking rest and pleasure
meets a fair Austrian maiden; he a
farmer's son, she a miller's daughter —
so each thinks. Were it true, there
would be a Canadian romance; but it
isn't true, and thus we have an old-
world romance, for he is heir to a
dukedom and she a princess. This is
all the plot; but the plot is nothing in
comparison with the dainty manner in
which it is handled, the beautiful music
which permeates this antique opera.
The refinement is so great that the
lovers speak of each other, reveal their
sentiments only through the use of the
third person when mentioning the
other. The dialogue only indicates
what each means, never expresses it
directly; the motives of each are never
more than half revealed. There is
over it all a dalliance, an absence of
haste, a delicate refinement of expres-
sion and sentiment which marks these
characters as being the opposite of the
people of the Western hemisphere, as
unlike us as \(^e are unlike the Japs or
the Chinese.
If the reader desires to test the truth
of the foregoing, he may take up Er-
nest W. Hornung's new novel ** Denis
Dent,"* and compare the two. The
binding of the latter is just as good,
the paper is finer and the frontispiece
is just as dainty. Perhaps the letter-
press is a trifle coarser, but certainly
the atmosphere of the story is that of
a different civilization. Sailors and
miners, and the crude life of Austra-
lia— and a sentence like the following
for a keynote to the story:
*' He stood on the quay, but a ragg-ed
young boor — unlettered child of felons — un-
shriven son of the soil — yet worth twice his
weight in gold in all senses of the homely
phrase. And the troubled face, with the
tears rolling grotesquely over the tan, was
the last that Denis looked on in a land as rich
as in the precious metal itself."
This bold sentence with its crude-
ness of expression and of sentiment is
indicative of the whole book. If an-
other example were needed one might
•Toronto: The Copp, Clark Co.
quote: '* They had also cash in hand
to the tune of ;£2;" ** Nor had Denis
long to wait for Mr. Doherty's earlier
manner, which got up like a breeze in
the free expression of his opinion that
ten pounds was not enough;" or this
literary gem, ** Night falls like an as-
sassin in that country, but the purple
tints were only beginning when in his
very ear she implored him not to leave
her any more, and he held her closer,
but said he must,*'
Again, the contrast between the
simplicity of a book like ** My Friend
Prospero" and some others, might be
exemplified by some quotations from
** Sir Mortimer,"* the latest novel from
the pen of that famous citizen of the
United States, Mary Johnston, author
of ***To Have and to Hold." On page
2 one meets with this charming sent-
ence:
** He paused, being upon his feet, a man of
about thirty years, richly dressed, and out of
reason good to look at."
One is led to wonder what rela-
tion there is between his pausing and
his being on his feet. Surely Sir Mor-
timer could have paused sitting down,
or even had he been less richly dress-
ed, even younger in years, or less good
to look at. Or one may select the
following to exemplify an unnatural
straining after effect:
** In England, since the stealing forth of one
lonely ship, heard of no more, three spring-
times had kissed finger-tips to winter and
burgeoned into summer, and three summers
had held court in pride, then shrivelled into
autumn."
Yet one would fain acknowledge
that even this over-decorated piece of
word architecture is more to be de-
sired than the weary round of monot-
onous phrasing. There is a happy
medium — yet so few have accurately
gauged it. Mary Johnston comes
nearer to successful phrasing than
most novelists of the day, and no one
may read **Sir Mortimer" without
being convinced that here is an extra-
ordinary novel. She enters into the
* Toronto: The Book Supply Co.
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ABOUT NEW BOOKS
89
spirit of the Elizabeth-
an heroes and pictures
their actions with a
vividness which is al-
most startling. In
fact **Sir Mortimer,"
even more than ^* My
Friend Prosper©," is
a book to be read and
re-read. More actors
throng the stage, and
wider ranges are fol-
lowed, and yet almost
equal success in liter-
ary style and artistic
handling of the theme
are attained.
A NEW NOVELIST
Norman Duncan,
whose stories of New-
foundland have found
their way into Harp-
e^s^ McClure's^ The
Atlantic Monthly^ and
other publications, is
a Canadian who claims
the city of Brantford
as his birth-place.
Eight years of his life
were spent in the town
of Mitchell in West-
ern Ontario, and from
there he entered the
University of Toronto.
He left that institution
without a degree, be-
cause he found the
science course which he had chosen
was distasteful. From there he went
to Auburn, N.Y., and engaged in
journalistic work. Two years later
he joined the staff of the New York
Evening Post ^ and to the atmosphere
of that office attributes his later suc-
cess in fiction. His first stories dealt
with life in the Syrian Quarters of New
York, and have since been published in
book form with the title "The Soul
of the Street." Reaction caused him
to long for a change of subject, and he
chose to study the sea and those who
fight with it.
His subsequent work is the result of
NORMAN DUNCAN
Author of ** The Way of the Sea," etc.
three summers in Newfoundland and
one in Labrador. His second book is
a collection of Newfoundland stories.
His third, to be issued next fall, is to
be his first long story, and it will beaf
the title, **The Champion." Canadians
who have not yet tasted his work,
should seek it out. There is no Cana-
dian writing fiction to-day who gives
greater promise than Norman Duncan.
He recently visited Toronto at the in-
vitation of the Canadian Club, and
made a decided impression. Of me-
dium stature, Mr. Duncan is not one
to impress one on sight, but the face
and the voice soon indicate the gentle,
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
earnest spirit which animates the man
and which stamps him as one of
earth*s noblemen.
v
NOTES
'ERNON NOTT, the new Canadian
poet mentioned recently, was
born in Montreal in 1878, his father be-
ing English and his mother Canadian.
He has spent most of his life in Eng-
land and was educated at Uppingham
School. He served in the Imperial
Army for a year, but his health break-
ing down, he was compelled to resign
his commission. Returning to Canada,
he studied law at McGill for a year
after which he decided to follow what
had been his lode-star in life — literature,
and he intends to devote himself entire-
ly to writing verse. He has written
three other books since ''The Ballad of
the Soul's Desire," one of which will
be published in England early in the
coming year. He has been spending
the winter in Montreal.
Messrs. Constable will publish next
month a special study of the naval
and military history of the conquest of
Canada, by William Wood, of Quebec,
a past- president of the Literary and
Scientific Society of that city, and a
contributor to The Canadian Maga-
zine. The book will be entitled "The
Fight for Canada," and is based en-
tirely on original documents, many
hundreds of which he has studied, and
very few of which have yet been made
use of. The book will undoubtedly be
a valuable contribution to Canadian
history.
The April number of the QueetCs
Quarterly is worthy of special mention
and deserving of wide circulation. It
indicates what Canada might produce
regularly if Canadians did not prefer
United States publications to those
produced at home. Professor Car-
michael deals with * 'Photography in
Natural Colours" in an able manner;
A. W. Playfair, a young man who
abandoned pedagogical work for busi-
ness, writes interestingly of "Paper
Making;'' Sir Sanciford Fleming con-
tributes his address entitled "Build up
Canada," delivered before the Canadian
Club of Toronto, and this is distin-
guished by an instructive map shomring^
our unexplored regions; Professor Mar-
shall dissects "Matthew Arnold's Phi-
losophy of Religion;" and there are
other important articles and general
features. The QueetCs Quarterly should
have a wide circulation even among*
those who have never known the de-
lights of living "On the Old Ontario
Strand."
The thinking Canadian who does not
desire to see this country a nation of
wealthy landlords, of railway million-
aires, or of privileged corporations,
should read the fact-studded pamph-
let, "Canada, a Modern Nation,'* by
W. D. Lighthall, the well-known
Montreal barrister. Mr. Lighthall
figures out that Canada may easily ac-
commodate 900,000,000 people, and
that care must be taken to adopt g^en-
erat lines of policy which will ensure
equality and continuity of opportunity
to all future citizens. Mr. Lif^hthall
also emphasizes the possibilities of
public and municipal ownership and
argues intelligently in its favour.
(Montreal: A. T. Chapman, 25 cts.)
"The Studio," English edition, con-
tinues to be a most informing art jour-
nal. The recent numbers have been
exceptionally bright, and the coloured
reproductions are a continuous wonder
to the observer who is not yet blase
with modern advances in the printer's
art.
"Picture Titles for Painters and
Photographers" is the title of a unique
and suggestive volume by A. L. Bal-
dry, published by "The Studio** of
London, England. The quotations are
chosen from the literature of Great
Britain and America, but confines him-
self to about a score of the best known
authors.
The "Annual Archaeological Re-
port" of David Boyle, of the Educa-
tion Department of Ontario (1903) is
a splendid contribution to our histori-
cal records. Special attention is paid
to effigy stone pipes, stone axes, stone
gouges, early copper utensils and In-
dian village sites. Mr. Boyle reports
that the Ontario Museum now contains
about 27,000 specimens.
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^ff^£.
M^^sms
w
STQRY OF A CORK LEG
^HILE waiting tor the judge in
Chambers the other morning
some lawyers got into a conversation
on the old Peter Hamilton mortgage,
and other mortgages. They finally
drifted to chattel mortgages, and one
of the barristers, a member of a promi-
nent legal firm in the city, told of a
strange one. An old soldier, who had
lost his leg in war and had a **peg"
on the stump, confided to him one day
that he was in love with a widow who
had a little money. He wanted to get
a cork leg, to put on style, but he
had not the price. What he needed
was $75. The lawyer said he would
lend it to him if he would give a chat-
tel mortgage on the leg. This was
agreed to, and, more in fun than in
earnest, the mortgage was drawn up,
but not registered. Anyway, the sol-
dier got the leg and won the widow.
When the couple were married the
lawyer's gift to the bride was the
mortgage on the groom's leg. — Ham-
ilioji Times.
H
A NEW FLOWER
(an adapted joke)
A Toronto gentleman stopped at a
King St. florist's a few days ago and,
after placing his order, said:
** Have you anything new in flow-
ers?"
**Yes, here is something which I
thought would prove popular, but it
doesn't seem to go very well. " Then
he brought out a gaudy hybrid.
**What is the name of it?" asked
the customer.
*• I call it *the Prohibition Candi-
dates' Pledge.'''
**For what reason?"
** Simply because it fades so quickly."
■
THE NEW VERSION
A soldier of the Russians
Lay japanned at Tschn'zvkjskivitch,
There was lack of woman's nursing
And other comforts which
Might add to his last moments
And smooth the final way;
But a comrade stood beside him
To hear what he mig-ht say.
The japanned Russian faltered
As he took that comrade's hand,
And he said: *' I never more shall see
My own, my native land:
Take a messagfe and a token
To some distant friends of mine
For I was born at Smnlxzrskgfqrxski,
Fair Smnlxzrskg-qrxski on the Irkztrvzklm-
nov."
— W, J, L. in New York Sun,
THE SUPREMEST NERVE
It is said that when Mr. Gladstone
read a book by Mr. Carnegie he re-
marked that he admired the courage
of a man who, without knowing how
to write, wrote on a subject of which
he knew nothing. — Schoolmaster.
FROM FAR TIBET
A correspondent with the Tibet mis-
sion tells a mule story: ** Mules, ap-
parently, do not die from any cause,
and this mission has again proved the
extreme hardihood of these animals.
When the mission first crossed the
91
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
THE HEALTH CRAZE
The modern methods of attaining' health, rebuildin]<- shattered
constitutions, curing dyspeptic ills and reducing weight, which have
now become such a craze with society in general, would certainly
have started our fathers. Quite the latest hails from Berlin, where
a distinctly original treatment is to be experimented. The idea is
that the upright position adopted by men and women is entirely op-
posed to hygiene — they should walk on all fours. The illustration
depicts the artist's conception of patients under this system indulg-
ing in a little exercise. — The London Bystander
Jelap-la, a mule slipped in the dusk
and fell into the lake at the bottom of
the pass. It was thought to be drown-
ed. Next morning a convoy found it
with its nose just above the ice, the
rest of its body literally frozen in.
Pickaxes were brought, and the animal
was dug out. It is now working as
usual.*' — St, James
Gazette.
COULD DO IT
WITHOUT A
GUIDE
The American re-
vivalists who were
in Liverpool some
months ago have
also visited Glas-
gow. To a vast
congregation the
preaching evange-
list cried: *' Now,
all you good people
who mean to go to
heaven with me,
stand up!" With a
surge of enthusi-
asm, the audience
sprang to their feet
— all but an old
Scotchman in the
front row, who sat
still. The horrified
evangelist w r u n g-
his hands, and, ad-
dressing him, said:
'*My good man, my
good man, don't
you want to go to
heaven?" Clear and
deliberate came the
answer: ** Awe,
Awm gangin', but
no wi' a pairsonal-
ly conducted pair-
ty!"— 5"^?/^^/^^.
H
WOMEN CLAS-
SIFIED
There are three
classes of women:
(i.) Women who want to be kissed.
(2.) Women who do not want to be
kissed.
(3.) Women who look as though
they would like to be kissed, but won't
let men kiss them.
The first men kiss, the second they do^
not kiss, the third they marry. — Life.
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(DIDOO
CURIOUS PIPES
THE collection of curio pipes shown
in the accompanying photograph
is the property of Dr. Burrows of Lind-
say»Ont., and is certainly unique ip rep-
resenting so many different countries.
So long as there are people, there
will be collectors — old furniture, an-
tique silverware, postage stamps, rare
paintings, rare gems and any other
kind of curiosity. Nearly every smoker
collects pipes, but it is not often one
goes into it on the same scale as Dr.
Burrows. Those in his collection are
notable from many standpoints as may
be gathered from the following list :
No. I. Armenian.
Aboriginal Indian.
From Honolulu.
From Vienna.
From Derry.
British Admiral's at Cawn-
pore, India.
No. 7. Pipe smoked by A. Molley
Maguire while being hanged.
No. 8. From store beneath Gotten-
burg Monument.
No. 9. Italian.
No. 10. From Nile, Egypt.
No. II. From Paardeberg, with Oom
Paul's face.
No. 1 2. Syrian carved Turk's head.
No. 13. Native Indian Clay.
No. 14. Common Clay from Water-
loo Place, London; has been around
the world.
No. 15. Japanese Lady's Opium pipe.
No. 16. Taken from between teeth
of dead Boer on Spion Kop after en-
gagement with British.
No. 17. From St. Pierre, Marquette,
after fire, covered with fused lava.
No. 2.
No. 3.
No. 4.
No. 5.
No. 6.
No. 18. From Berne, Switzerland,^
with bear totem.
No. 19. From Stuttgart.
No. 20. Indian Chiefs pipe from
Omic Harbour.
No. 21. Native South American In-
dian. Smoked without stem, through
piece of cloth.
No. 22. Pipe from block of wood,
representing Eagle, carved by Ameri-
can soldier in Philippines.
No. 23, Boer pipe of native wood.
Long German.
Bowl of South American
24.
25-
No.
No.
Pipe.
No. 26. Mephistopheles head carved
from bog oak.
No. 27. Old Normal bowl.
No. 28. Red stone Indian pipe.
No. 29. Miniature German pipe,
carved with pen knife by prisoner in
Bastile; in bowl are three perfect dice.
No. 30. Esquimo pipe from beyond
Hoy River, within Arctic Circle.
No. 31. Pipe smoked by French
Gentleman who died in Grey Nun Hos-
pital, Montreal, aged 106.
Left of No. 4 is small pipe smoked
by a boy Gordon, 4 years of age.
Above No. i is pipe smoked by
young lady at Vassar school.
Below No. 2 pipe smoked by Volney
Ashford, Major-General to her Majesty
Queen Lilioukalani's forces in Hawaii.
Upper right hand corner pipe smok-
ed by notorious Jesse James from De
Sotto.
Above 20 Indian pipe fashioned from
root, from Judge Chadwick of Guelph.
In centre above, another Indian root
fashioned like Moose's head.
Right of it is pipe smoked on vessel
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
A COLLECTION OF CURIOIS PIPES
Most of the pipes are described in the accompanying" text. They are the property of
Dr. Burrows, of Lindsay, Ont.
by Duke of Norfolk crossing to Canada.
Left of it tobacco pouch fashioned
from albatross foot used by gulf
sailors.
In the cigar box is Tac-a-hic tobacco
smoked by Esquimo of far north when
tobacco is not procurable; it is made
from the bark of willow.
There are also Porto Rico dope cigars,
cigars used by Chicago and New York
toughs to render unsuspecting victims
unconscious, a part plug of tobacco in
which diamonds were attempted to be
smuggled, Spanish Tuscans, and the
latest acquisition a covile pipe from
Calcutta. Nearly every pipe has a his-
tory. Dr. Burrows will be glad to pro-
cure for his collection any pipes with
special history or a peculiarity of any
kind.
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CANADIAN TOBACCO ABROAD
ONE of the Canadian agents in Aus-
tralia writes that Canadian cut to-
baccos have made their appearance in
Melbourne. He points out that near-
ly all cut tobacco in Australia is im-
ported in hermetically sealed tins, and
that Canadian tobaccos will require to
be put up in this way. The Canadian
tobacco men would do better to look
after their own trade at home instead
of attempting to capture foreign
markets. English tobaccos in sealed
tins are growing more popular in Ca-
nada, and the Canadian manufacturer
will be forced to do better in flavouring
and tinning if he expects to hold even
his own market. It is inconceivable
that he should compete successfully
with the English exporter in Australia,
when he cannot compete with him at
home with an advantage in duty and in
freight.
Again the British tobacco curer is a
good advertiser. No other class of
English exporter has his enterprise
unless possibly the soap and the pill
manufacturers. Canadian tobacco cur-
ers have not yet learned the value of
printers' ink.
AN IMPERIAL COUNCIL
THE Hon. Alfred Deakin, the new
■^ Premier of Australia, who was a
delegate from the Victorian Govern-
ment to the first Imperial Conference in
1887, ^^^ reaffirmed his preference for
an Imperial Council. This is a period
of Conferences, but the Empire will re-
quire something more permanent, more
definite. An Imperial Council, a con-
sultative rather than a legislative body,
would be the natural outcome of Im-
perial progress. It would give the
various parts of the Empire opportun-
ity to state their positions and desires
to each other. Its atmosphere would
be that of calm discussion, unbiassed
as its delegates would be by party
afliliations or considerations. Every
scheme for common defence, for the
development of shipping, or for mutual
aid, could there be elaborated with
knowledge and forethought. This
method of deciding Imperial questions
and settling Imperial policy might not
be perfect nor final, but it would be a
step in advance. Mr. Deakin is not in
favour of allowing sentiment to be the
only bond which binds the Empire
together, for, he thinks, there must
also be a business basis on which
the Empire's business shall be car-
ried on.
It will thus be seen, as has been
pointed out by Sir Charles Tupperand
others, the idea of an Imperial Parlia-
ment is not regarded with favour by
the practical statesmen of the day in
the Colonies. They nearly all agree
that the time for such a new repre-
sentative organization is still far dis-
tant.
Ji
BONELESS HERRING
THE abundance ot herring in the
Bay of Fundy this winter has led
to the establishment of a new industry
at Eastport, the putting up of boneless
herring. The fish are being supplied
by Captain James C. Calder, of Campo-
bello, N.B., and the factory plant is
operated by the big syndicate known
as the Sea Coast Canning Company.
95
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96
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
For a number of years a concern in
New York has been putting on the
market a boneless herring put up by a
patent process, from smoked fish ship-
ped from Campobello in bulk. The
Eastport firm has only recently started
in the business, but it already uses up
5*500 pounds of herring daily. The
head, tail, skin, bones and part of the
belly are removed before the fish are
placed in the cans. As the plant re-
quired for this business is not expensive
and the process is not at all complicat-
ed, some of the Canadian canneries
might put herring up in this form to
advantage. It is certain that by the
adoption of new methods of marketing
fish, the use of this commodity might
be made much larger than it is at pres-
ent. The success which has attended
efforts in this direction seems to indi-
cate that the old forms of fish to which
people have been accustomed from time
immemorial may give way to the more
finished product. — Maritime Merchant
Ji
BOUNTIES VS. TARIFFS
THE Hamilton Times admires the
Government's bounty system be-
cause **the Government handles the
bounty and people know exactly what
they pay the iron men as a gift,"
whereas under a protective system the
**iron men may themselves levy the
tax, make it many times greater and
keep the public from knowing how
much they take." The Times has the
correct idea of the bounty, but it en-
tirely ignores the fact that under the
protective system through home com-
petition it is possible for the consumer
to obtain his supply just as cheaply if
not even more cheaply than he would
if the producer had no protection. Pro-
tection does not add to the cost of iron
in the United States. — Montre&lGasfet/e,
THE ALSEK REGION
If the testimony of the men who
have examined the Alsek region, and
who are preparing to take advantage
of the opportunities which they claim
it offers, is to be given the credit it
would seem to deserve, we have in
that district a new Klondike from
which much benefit will be reaped dur-
ing the next four years. It is accord-
ingly gratifying that the whole gold-
bearing area, ^^hich is computed at
about a hundred square miles, is en-
tirely within Canadian territory, and
that the commercial results which will
flow from its development will be
realized by our own people. If the
hopes for the richness of the district
are fulfilled Vancouver will more per-
haps than any Canadian centre be the
gainer, as this city ought to be its
direct base of supply. The Governor
of the Yukon Territory is showing
commendable activity in acquiring in-
formation regarding the auriferous
character of the region, and forward-
ing this intelligence to the Dominion
authorities, who, as soon as they re-
gard themselves as justified in so do-
ing, will appropriate a sufficient sum
of money to construct roads and trails
through the country. — Vancouver Pruw-
ince. ^
THE CUPPER TRUST
When trust promoters fall out the
public occasionally gets a little inside
information. This is what happened
in the ship-building case,. and now we
are promised the true history of Amal-
gamated copper. A few facts of in-
terest have already come out during
the course of the Boston gas hearing
in which the copper promoters were
also interested. Mr. Lawson said on
the stand that $46,000,000 profit was
involved in one transaction in which
he was interested with the ** Stan-
dard Oil crowd." This sum was
raised to $66,000,000 in a state-
ment that Mr. Lawson gave out on
Sunday, and we can well believe him
without further explanation. Copper
properties like Anaconda, Butte and
Boston, and others were turned over
to the trust at figures ranging from
fifty to one hundred per cent; above
their cost and value. Amalgamated
was floated at par and is now quoted
at 49. This, in brief, is the history of
another combination in restraint of
trsLde.—Pub/ic Opinion, N. V.
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J"
^^
/
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at a moment's notice, and should always have them in the house.
Libby's (Natural Flavor) Food Prodticts
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Veal Loaf, Corned Beef Hash, Melrose Pate, Pork and Beans, Boneless Chicken,
Peerless Wafer-Sliced Dried Beef, Ox Tongue, give perfect satisfaction always.
Sold by all grocers.
The booklet "Good Things to Eat" sent free upon request.
Libbys Big Atlas of the World sent for five 2c stamps.
Libby. McNeill & Libbr, Chicago
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iMS PIANOS
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THK WILLIAMS PIANO CO., Limited, 08HAWA, ONT.
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The name on the box tells the
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Original sealed packages, all
sizes, all prices.
Sold by druggists and con-
fectioners everywhere.
The Harry Webb Company, Limited
TORONTO
By appointment purveyors to His Excellency
the Governor-General.
Canada's High-Class
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Used exclusively in
Moulton Ladies' College, Toronto,
Hamilton Conservatory of Music,
and also in almost all of the lead-
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WRITE TO THE
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You don't have to experiment
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A book of Choice Recipes
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JUNE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
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THE
CANADIAN M
NE
VOL. XXIII
TORONTO, JUN^,^19(fflAY 311904 No. 2
THE BUILDING OF Al^m^
By HOPKINS J. MOOR HO USE
[REATEST of all factors in a
country's development are
its railway systems, and
the building of a railway
through unopened tracts
should be a matter for national con-
g^ratulation. To scattered inhabitants
of a hitherto forsaken region it means
much, to many individual concerns it
means more, but to the nation it means
most of all, in the opening up of new
mineral wealth, in new settlements,
increased population and additional
revenues.
Miles and miles of unbroken wilder-
ness perhaps, the country stretches
away, a lonesome land of spruce and
balsam and little lakes studded with
islet clumps, and jagged mountains of
rock piling into the sky. For centuries
it has lain in its primitive grandeur, its
resources unknown and its solitude
broken only by the voices of its own
wild habitants. Then one day a little
party of white men, in legging boots
and accompanied by Indian guides,
forces its way into the depths. Each
day they move here and there up the
rocky heights, down into the swamp
land, through dense forest growths ;
each night their camp-fire glows like a
coal upon the edge of some little lake,
its ruddy flickerings trailing out over
the water into shifting shadow fan-
tasies. And the wild things creep
down the forest aisles to peer out of the
enclosing gloom and wonder, while
away in the crowded cities the news-
papers have announced that the recon-
naissance for a new railway is being
taken, that engineers are already in
the field exploring for a route.
To locate the very best route through
a vast tract of unknown country is a
task that demands a thorough knowl-
edge of the work. A very necessary
part of the locating engineer's equip-
ment are the climbing irons with which
he ascends into the tree-tops to take
frequent observations of the panorama
spreading around him — hills and
valleys ; ridges, slopes and levels ;
watersheds, river basins and lakes. He
must avoid boggy places and ever
keep in mind maximum gradients and
probable difficulties of construction.
He may become separated from his
guide if he is not careful, and lose
his way, unless he knows that insects
lodge under the bark on the south side
of tree-trunks, that the north side of an
exposed boulder is damp and mossy
and that the north star is in line with
the front of the Great Dipper ; in other
words, he must know enough wood-
craft to be at home in the wild.
Railway location depends greatly upon
the financial and political limitations of
the promoters, whose aims must
govern the locating engineer in his
explorations quite as much as topo-
graphical considerations.
As a class and as individuals civil
engineers are remarkable. Men who
are not afraid to be swallowed up from
their friends for months at a time, to
camp out in all kinds of weather, to
wash in creeks, drink swamp water
97
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98
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
and live on crackers and cold pork ;
men who can walk all day with packs
on their backs through tangles of
virgin jungle and who can watch a
black-fly take a bite and go off up a
stump to eat it, without swearing more
than might be forgiven — such men as
these are surely not of the commonalty.
But it is the Chief Engineer who is the
man of qualities. His versatility is
only equalled by his common sense and
executive ability. If asked the mean-
ing of ** Can't" he could only stare ;
the word is not in his vocabulary. He
generally has a back like a hired man
and shakes hands with a grip. Upon
mendations, the road is ready for open-
ing up.
The system is one of contracts and
sub-contracts. Contractors who have
secured work direct from the Company
sub-let to other contractors, who in
turn may sub-let to ** station-men."
The latter contract for work on per-
haps half-a-dozen '' stations " of six
hundred feet each.
Almost the first step is the making
of a **tote road," which is always a
big item of expense in railway con-
struction. It is a rough waggon-trail,
cleared and blazed through the forest
parallel to the route, to facilitate the
A TYPICAL RAILWAY CONSTRUCTION CAMP IN NORTHERN CANADA
him devolves the responsibility of
building the road : placing surveyors
in the field, draughting plans and
estimates, constructing bridges, boring
tunnels, fixing terminals and doing
many other things equally exacting.
Many survey parties are in the field
at the same time — engineers, axemen,
tapemen, cooks; with transits, levels,
aneroid barometers and camp para-
phernalia. •* Trial lines " are run zig-
zag along the reconnaissance line to
discover more definitely just where the
railway can be built to best advantage
and at minimum cost. When a full
report has been handed in with the
Chief Engineer's estimates and recom-
transportation of supplies to the vari-
ous construction camps. Once the
railway is built, the tote road has serv-
ed its purpose and is abandoned.
The work rapidly settles into defi-
nite shape. Gangs of navvies — Swedes,
Finns, Italians, French and English —
are at the points from which operations
commence, ready to fall to work with
pick and shovel. Axemen hew the
Company's right-of-way through the
tamarack growths, and behind them
the air is filled with the loud **Gee!''
**Whoa-Haw!" ''Back you!" of the
teamsters who are clearing the ground.
The earth is ploughed up and loosen-
ed for the shovellers, hauled away in
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J^^
I^E^
c-^/^l
i
r .5''
gat>. ■'' -r^ ■' '- ■ .'
A STEAM SHOVEL WILL LOAD A TRAIN OF FLAT
CARS IN A FEW MINUTES
carts or spread and levelled into em-
bankment layers. Here and there
along the route construction camps
are building, and one or two little saw-
mills spring into being.
The boom of dynamite blasts among
the hills, and an incessant clink-clink
of drills are sounds which may be
heard wherever railway construction is
in progress. The road does not stop for
such a small thing as a wall of rock. A
few blasting charges will tear a passage-
way through, and this is cleared of the
broken rock debris with the aid of cranes
erected at the sides of the cutting.
It sometimes happens that rock
formation is such that the slopes of a
deep cut through it would be liable to
slips, in which case a tunnel is neces-
sary. Shafts are first sunk to ascer-
tain the nature of the ground. A line
is drawn accurately upon the surface
above the tunnel's axis, and through
this line working shafts are sunk at
intervals to the roof of the tunnel.
The excavated rock and earth is taken
out at both ends and up the shafts.
The tunnel is generally safe without
arch supports when it runs through un-
stratified rock; but in stratified rock,
where slabs may work loose at any
time, a sustaining arch under the roof
is an essential. The drainage is built
along the axis underneath the track
ballasting.
Across marshy places and small
streams the road is carried by means
of wooden trestles. Owing to the lia-
bility of the piles decaying, a trestle
over boggy ground is resorted to only
as a temporary expedient to sustain
the rails at the proper level until the
sand and gravel, with which the trestle
is subsequently filled in, has settled
firmly about the piles and stringers
into a substantial embankment sup-
port. Permanent trestles across streams
BALLASTING A BIT OF NEWLV-LAID TRACK. AN UNLOADING PLOUGH IS CARRIED ON THE REAR
CAR. A CABLE CONNECTS IT WITH ENGINE. BY IT A TRAIN IS UNLOADED IN A FEW
SECONDS. THE T. AND N. O. RAILWAY. — PHOTO BY PARK, BRANTFORD
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THE BUILDING OF A RAILWAY
lOI
are erected on masonry foundations or
on foundations of piles sunk through
the river-bed. The piles are some-
THE FIRST BREAK INTO A ROCKY HILL
times driven down deep and a plat-
form foundation built on top of them,
but frequently they are left far enough
above ground to themselves become
the frame supports. Their tops are
THE CUTTING COMPLETED AND THE RAILS
LAID, AWAITING THE BALLAST
sawed off level and horizontal beams or
*• caps " bolted on or mortised to
receive tenons. The uprights are
braced diagonally. Several different
methods are followed in trestle build-
ing, dependent entirely upon local
conditions.
The driving apparatus in a pile-
driving machine consists of a weight
block enclosed in two upright guide
shafts. This ram is hauled up the
shaft by hand or steam and falls back
on the head of the pile. Pile-driving
has been done also by exploding
powder charges in a metal cap affixed
to the top of the pile. By means of
this about thirty-five blows can be
struck every minute with a driving
force of five to ten feet.
In forming the roadbed and provid-
ing the drainage necessary to good
tracking, great care is exercised. The
bed is given a rounding slope from the
centre and a thorough system of ditch-
ing. Ditches are also dug along the
upper sides of rock-cuts, a short
THE BEGINNING OF THE TRESTLE WORK
distance back from the slope, to catch
the water and carry it free of the
cutting.
With the commencement of track
laying, the new railway begins to take
PILES FOR TRESTLE WORK
definite shape. Sawmills have been
busy turning out cross-ties which lie
scattered and piled all along the finished
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
STRAIGHTENING AND DOUBLE TRACKING THE MAIN LINE OF THE GRAND TRUNK JUST
EAST OF TORONTO. THE LARGE STEAM SHOVEL IS MAKING THE SECOND CUT
THROUGH ** HOG'S BACK," WHILE THE MEN IN THE FOREGROUND ARE
BORING HOLES IN THE ROCK PREPARATORY TO BLASTING
roadway. They are quickly laid in
place and workmen swarm about the
heavy steel rails alongside. These are
picked up with lifting irons, carried
into position, rapidly spiked, and the
great disjointed serpent that has been
straggling its length of wood and metal
down the vista between the forest walls,
slowly wriggles out of the ditch and
settles into parallels of steel. The
rapidity with which track can be laid
is greatly increased where a track-
laying machine is used, the rate of
advance being about a mile per day.
In building the curves, care is taken
to elevate the outer rail. The height
of this elevation depends upon the
sharpness of the curve; for, as the
centrifugal force will drive the wheels
of a railway carriage towards the out-
side rail, so the elevation of the latter
will bring into play a gravity force
counteracting towards the inside rail.
It is this elevation that allows a train
to speed around a curve without danger
of leaping the rails.
The gauge generally adopted gives
the track a width of four feet, eight
and one-half inches. Although there
are arguments in favorof narrow-gauge
railroads, yet these are over-balanced
by the inconvenience that would result
from the adoption of a narrower gauge
than is in general use, rendering
impossible the handling of other lines'
cars.
When the track is down, ballasting
is in order and a very important factor
it is in good construction work. Upon
the ballasting depends the elasticity of
the roadbed. It supports the ties on
all sides, keeps the track in line,
carries off rainwater and, by drainage,
lessens the action of frost. Gravel is
in most general use in this country ;
coarse, clean gravel drains well and is
easily surfaced. Heavy sand is also
used but is dusty in summer, which is
not good for rolling stock. Just how
much ballast is to be laid on the road-
bed will be determined by the Com-
pany's finances. The depth will
probably average fourteen inches.
Ballast pits are opened up along the
route and the road ballasted by train-
loads. The track is first lined and
surfaced with a light *Mift " of the
coarsest material to hand before the
ballast trains can be allowed to run at
any speed over the new track. If they
do not go slowly when the track is
lying without ballast support, rails will
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THE BUILDING OF A RAILWA Y
103
ANOTHER VIEW OF THE ** HOG'S BACK" CUT ON GRAND TRUNK, SHOWING THE CUTTING
AS IT APPEARED AFTER BEING LOWERED 22 FEET, AND PREVIOUS TO THE FINAL
CUT OF THE SHOVEL. THE CUT IS WIDE ON ACCOUNT OF THE DOUBLE TRACK
bend, angle bars crack and the track shift
out of line. A second "lift" is tamped
and packed around the ties and sup-
ports until the track is solid ; a single
loose tie will, under traffic, work a
hole in the ballast, making a lodging-
place for water which will soon under-
mine the rail and cause the track to
sag. The final lift of ballasting is of
finer material and is laid on for finish-
ing purposes.
In a ballast pit, the feature of inter-
est is the steam shovel which loads the
sand and gravel on to the fiat-cars.
In mechanism it is like a dredge, and
is built upon trucks of its own, so that
it can be easily moved from place to
place. The scoop is driven by steam;
and the swinging gear is operated by
chains and cogs. The shovel is rang-
ed alongside the pit embankment and
the empty cars run slowly past it by
means of a cable attached to a horse-
power sweep.
The last car of a ballast train carries
an unloading plough attached to the
engine by means of a wire cable run-
ning over the tops of the fiat-cars. The
plough is dragged from end to end of
the train, and is capable of emptying
fifteen cars in less than four minutes.
Life in the construction camps is
much the same as that of the lumber-
men. The living room is a long shanty
with bunks ranging around the walls,
and connected with this by a roofed
passageway is the cook-house, the do-
main of the cook and his assistant,
where the immense iron oven is always
hot and the long plank tables are spread
with great quantities of food. It is in-
variably a hungry lot that *' wash up"
for supper after work is over for the
day.
An idea seems to be prevalent among
many people that things are carried on
in the roughest of rough styles up in
the woods. While this may be true in
some instances, it is not so within the
precincts of a well-ordered construc-
tion camp. When the **cookee"
pounds the gong, or blows the horn,
or shouts, as the case may be, there is
no wild stampede into the cook-house,
though certainly the summons to eat
is promptly obeyed. Each man quiet-
ly steps over the long bench with the
sapling legs, and sits down in front of
the nearest tin pannican and iron knife
and fork. He helps himself, but he
does not grab. There are no cries of:
** Sling up the punk, Bill," or **Toss
over them murphies," or ** Here, you,
give's the cow." That sort of thing
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
* RIVER ROUGE FILL ON GRAND TRUNK SYSTEM, 1 7 MILES EAST OF TORONTO. THE
HARD PAN OUT OF HOG'S BACK CUT WAS USED TO RAISE THIS BIT OF TRACK
TWENTY FEET. IT IS RAISED STEADILY FOOT BY FOOT, CONSTRUCTION
AND OTHER TRAINS PASSING OVER IT ALMOST AS USUAL.
is not tolerated, for with a hundred or
more famished men kicking up a clam-
our, the cook and the cookee would
simply be driven out of their wits. As
it is, they are kept continually on the
go to replenish the table.
Pork and beans is a fixture on the
bill of fare; it is a diet that has yet to
be improved upon where men are
working hard in the open air. Pork
and beans for breakfast, beans and
pork for dinner, both for tea — always
hot and wholesome and sustaining;
those beans, a meal for an epicure
if he is hungry! Then there are soups
and stews and good wheaten bread,
and pies and German doughnuts, and
boilers of steaming tea and coffee, with
real evaporated cream to go with it.
After supper the men smoke pipes,
chat for awhile, turn in and sleep
soundly, get up early and go to work
again.
So the days pass, the weeks pass,
the winter passes, the summer comes
and the heat and the flies, but steadily
on creeps the new railway until at last
comes the gala day. This is the day
which the promoters have had in mind
since the government charts and maps
were first examined — the day when the
first train, bedecked with flags, makes
the initial run and the new road stands
complete, a monument to national
prosperity and and another step in the
development of public interests.
a third view of
**hog's back"
STEAM SHOVEL
HALF WAY THROUGH
ON FINAL CUT
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THOMAS HARDY
PHOTO BY LONDON STEREOSCOPIC CO.
LITERARY PORTRAITS*
By HALDANE MACFALL, Author of ''The Masterfolk;' etc.
II.— THOMAS HARDY
jHROUGH dreamy, sincere
eyes, the large soul of
Thomas Hardy looks out
upon a sad world for which
his great heart aches with
an infinite pity. He see the immortals
for ever making sport of all poor
human things here below. He sighs
to think how small a thing is the hero-
ism of the greatest amongst us — nay,
even their loftiest ambitions — com-
pared to the vastness of the huge
universe of which this earth is but
a little trifling star. When all man's
* Cop3rrig'hted in Great Britain and the United States.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
endeavour is summed up, what a poor
basketful of insignificance it is, set
down at the foot of the mountains
of time ! He sighs at the cruelty of
nature that can order so hard a road
for the poor wounded feet of man to
travel — the poor worn with toil, the
rich harassed with discontent, the wise
unable to attain more than the scraps
of wisdom.
Seeing the world through the grey
glasses of pessimism, the light goes
out of his heaven. He flinches from
the brutality of life — the hawk striking
down the linnet, tearing to pieces its
exquisite design — the wolf flying at the
throat of the lamb — the ferret's crafty
attack on the timid hare. Everywhere
life taking life. No refuge from the un-
ending struggle. Success in life —
what is it but the tale of other hearts
broken ? What is the rich man's
palace but the sign of other homes
made desolate ? Everywhere is strife,
pursuit, sorrow, suffering — the rich
trampling down the poor. At the end
of all life's striving — the grave ! What
is commerce but the getting the better
of one's neighbour ? At every hand the
strong overthrowing the weak.
Behind Hardy's kindly, ready laugh,
behind his grim sense of humour, be-
hind his demure manner and frank
gaze, we feel this constant dogged
effort to set aside the veil that hides
the mystery of life. His large human-
ity, his love of every created thing,
reels from the cruelty of nature, shrinks
in horror from the fact of the creation
of so exquisite a thing as Life to be
destroyed in so horrible a thing as
Death.
And it is, perhaps, in his depiction
of the agony of the burden that is the
destiny of the world's most beautifully
created thing. Woman, that the largest
sense of his humanity cries out. It is
for this brutality of all brutalities that
he seems to be most heavily sorrowful.
In a series of superb studies of women,
of the unsophisticated women of rural
life, the country town, and the village,
he insists on the tragic burden of their
womanhood.
Everywhere he sees sorrow and pain.
The very intellect that raises man
above the brute, what does it do to
bring happiness to poor, stumbling*,
blundering man? It but dangles hopes
and ambitions and joys as lures before
his eyes to decoy him into struggling
for them, and, in the strife, to push
others down. The intellect, man's
boast over the brute — it is the crown
of thorns ! It cannot give happiness,
it often brings madness, it is swallow-
ed in the grave of time.
This conviction of the cruelty of
nature and of life Hardy has expressed
through a series of novels of country
life that place him supreme amongst
the English masters of the prose pas-
toral. It may, at first sight, seem
strange that the voice of the country-
side, finding tongue through the genius
of Hardy, should compel our minds to
dwell on the cruelty of nature. We
are accustomed to think of the country
as giving us the healthy strong man,
the vigorous race. But it is a strange
fact that it is not in the towns but
amongst the rural folk that melancholy
most dwells, and madness finds its
largest prey ; just as it is a strange
fact that the greatest landscape painter
of the world was born and bred in the
dingy house of a narrow London street;
just as we find that the Irish, a merry
folk by repute, are at heart amongst
the saddest people in the world. There
broods always over the country, even
in its most beautiful landscapes, a
sense of sadness, the hint of a sigh,
such as one rarely feels in the toil-worn
streets of cities.
The life of the fields is nearer to
nature — toil is on a heavier ground —
labour is lower, more tedious — longer
in yielding its results. The day is
more lonely. Death is more insistent,
more known, oftener seen, nearer when
it comes, hides itself less from the
gaze. In London how rarely we re-
alise that anyone is dying ! In a vil-
lage, death brings a solemn dignity and
a hush to the smallest cottage — -the
coming of death sets every tongue
a-gossip.
It is through the personality of
Thomas Hardy, and in and by his fine
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LITERARY PORTRAITS
107
novels, that we feel the pathos and the
quaint humour of the country side ; it
is in his pictures of life that we are
made to feel not only that the life of
the village is as romantic as the life of
the stately homes that dominate the
village, but we are shyly shown that
the lord who lives in pomp and circum-
stance in the stately home passes into
the handsome tomb as the villager
passes into his simple grave, all in the
selfsame God's-acre; and the obliterat-
ing earth, and the wind and the rain
blot out in time the very record of their
virtues in stone, as they wear away the
simple tombstones of the poor, and all
are in time forgotten.
It is remarkable that it is in Eng-
land's great pastoral poem, Grey's
"Elegy in a Country Churchyard,"
that we find the greatest pessimistic
poem of the English language — pessi-
mistic as the ''Rubaiyat" of Omar
Khayyam.
As alleviation for the sadness of life,
the Eastern genius of Omar Khayyam
found wine and a book, a loaf and the
love of a girl. The pessimism of the
mediaeval Church found it in the hope
of a future state of bliss. Hardy finds
in it a vast pity for all suffering things.
The life beyond the drawn curtain of
death is beyond his ken — beyond his
guessing. He is filled with a wide
pity and a generous charity for every
suffering thing upon this earth; and in
his desire to mitigate all suffering.
Hardy finds that which makes for the
beautifying of life.
The pessimistic genius can never be
so stimulating to a vigorous life for
mankind as the optimistic genius; nor
its impulse so forward urging towards
fuller existence and the emancipation
of the race. It is the man that be-
lieves the Designer to have made a
glorious world, the man that looks
upon life as a splendid wayfaring, who
lifts the world upon his shoulders.
The most supremely noble pessimist
(and Hardy is near the throne) can at
best but sit at the hearth of his sad
world and pile up the fire in the hope
to mitigate the biting frost for others;
but the optimist holds the sun to the
earth, and his very joyousness sets the
world a-singing.
Born some sixty-three years ago, in
his beloved Wessex, that is the back-
ground to his pastoral tragedies and
comedies, Thomas Hardy was school-
ed in the art of architecture— ^indeed,
threatened to reach early distinction in
the building of churches — but the
building of prose was making a more
urgent call upon his temperament. At
thirty-one he discarded bricks and
stone, and some toying with verse, to
make his first and most unpromising
essay in fiction with a sensational story
of the kind then in vogue. At thirty-
two, however, with **Under the Green-
wood Tree," he entered, haltingly
enough, to be sure, into his kingdom,
and first uttered the voice of the su-
preme English master of the pastoral
novel. But it was not until his thirty-
fourth year that **Far From the Mad-
ding Crowd" noised abroad the fact
that a genius had arrived amongst us.
In his thirty-eighth year came the sub-
lime, the deepest and the most perfect
of his tragedies, **The Return of the
Native."
With his fifty-first year he complete-
ly changed his manner, and gave us
the realistic **Tess of the D'Urbervil-
les," and, four years later, **Jude the
Obscure." The supremacy of sheer
beauty of artistry had now given place
to the domination of the spirit of hu-
manity, of righteous indignation, and
of the vast pity which has always stir-
red his genius. These two books were
violently attacked for what is called
their **realism," by which the critic and
the public generally seem to mean such
a treatment of sex as is not the ordin-
ary romantic conception of it in fiction.
As a matter of fact, powerful and
great as **Tess" is, some colour was
lent to the charge by the tendency on
Hardy's part to exaggerate his chief
literary defect in these two novels — a
defect which is the marked characteris-
tic of the realistic movement — a habit
of over-elaborate detail, and of wander-
ing away into unessential descriptions
and side-issues from the path of his
plot. But the truth was that Hardy
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
had joined the younger men in a su-
preme effort to break from the cramp-
ing convention into which the novel had
fallen — for the nineties saw a general
movement in letters to break away
from the **rose- water" school. '*Tess,"
striking the first strong blow, was bit-
terly assailed, and had to bear the
brunt of the attack. Meredith says
somewhere: **Nature will force her
way, and if you try to stifle her by
drowning she comes up, not the fairest
part of her uppermost." In **Jude the
Obscure** there is a suspicion of this
unseemliness. But the attack on
Hardy was childish. His style, limpid
and pure, was never more masterly
than in these books; his drawing of
character was never more subtle nor
more sure. And, to rank immortal, it
is on its creation of character that the
novel must finally stand at the bar of
judgment. Hardy rests to-day secure
of his bays.
THE STRUGGLE BETWEEN RUSSIA
AND JAPAN
By THE EDITOR
JAPAN regards the independ-
ence of Korea as absolutely
essential to her own repose
and security. Japan also
believes that the indefinite
occupation ot Manchuria by Russia
would be a continual menace to the
NICHOLAS II— THE CZAR OF RUSSIA
Hence the present
that Empire and
Korean Empire,
struggle between
Russia.
For three hundred years Russia
has been steadily pushing her way
eastward from the Ural Mountains to
the Pacific coast. During the last
fifty years she has secured much
Chinese territory. In 1857 Britain
and France quarrelled with China,
invaded her territory and occupied
Pekin. Russia used her influence
to assist China in securing a settle-
ment and have the invading armies
withdrawn, subsequently obtaining
for her services a large portion of
territory just north of the Amur
River. To protect this territory
she built Vladivostock, which she
thought would be a satisfactory Pa-
cific Ocean port. In 1891, with the
present Emperor as the guiding
spirit of the undertaking, she began
to build the Trans-Siberian Railway
from St. Petersburg to Vladivo-
stock. Experience soon showed
that this port was not satisfactory
because it was ice-bound several
months of the year. Investigation
also proved that the Railway could
not be profitably run through Rus-
sian territory north of the Amur
River.
Having arrived at this point Rus-
sian diplomacy began to look for a
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THE STRUGGLE BETWEEN RUSSIA AND JAPAN
109
more southerly and more direct route
from Lake Baikal to Vladivostock
across Manchuria, and for a new
ocean terminus farther south where
Russian ships might enter all the
year round. A Russian Ukase of
December 23rd, 1896, authorized the
formation of the Eastern China Rail-
way Company, consisting exclusive-
ly of Russian and Chinese sharehold-
ers. The line which this railway
follows starts at Kaidalovo on the
Trans-Siberian Railway, 440 miles
east of Lake Baikal, and strikes
southeasterly across Manchuria to
Kharbin. Here it bifurcates, one
branch extending to Vladivostock
and a second to Port Arthur. This
was the first step in the new move-
ment.
This movement was not made
without the opposition of Japan. In
1894 she declared war against China,
ostensibly over Korea. The Jap-
anese captured Port Arthur and
the Liaotung Peninsula, and march-
ed on Pekin. At this point the
European Powers intervened and
a treaty of peace was negotiated.
By it China recognized the full and
complete independence of Korea> and
agreed to pay Japan an indemnity
of $100,000,000 and to cede to her the
Liaotung Peninsula. It was a great
victory for Japan. But the wily Li
Hung Chang, who had charge of the
negotiations, had previously arranged
with Russia that Japan should be pre-
vented from permanently occupying
the Liaotung Peninsula. According-
ly, a few days after the treaty was
signed, Russia, Germany and France
protested against the Japanese occupa-
tion of that territory. This was a sad
blow to Japanese hopes. To hold
what the treaty gave her she must
have fought the three great Powers,
an impossibility for her at that time.
Accordingly, she surrendered what she
had so valorously won, and decided
to await the turn of events.
Soon afterwards, German activity in
North China was used by Russia as a
reason for occupying the Liaotung
Peninsula and fortifying Port Arthur.
MUTSUHITO — EMPEROR OF JAPAN, 1867-1904
This happened in the last month of
1897. Thus at the beginning of 1898
Japan found herself face to face with
her rival in the Yellow Sea. Nor has
diplomacy nor international event serv-
ed to drive Russia back one foot from
what she then obtained. The more
recent troubles with China failed to
shake Russia's hold on Manchurian ter-
ritory, or to induce her to withdraw
any of her troops from that portion of
the Chinese Empire.
When it became evident that Russia
intended to hold Manchuria at all costs,
Japan prepared for eventualities. Her
already strong army was strengthened,
and her already large navy was en-
larged. The lesson of fifty years of
Russian advance was too strong to be
ignored — Turkestan, Amur, Saghalien,
Manchuria, Port Arthur were among
the signposts. There must be a
struggle, a fight to the bitter end, or
else Japan should forever remain a
small island Empire.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
In July of last year, Japan invited
Russia to confer upon the subject of
securingc a friendly adjustment of all
questions relating to Manchuria and
Korea. Japan probably knew that an
agreement was unlikely, but neverthe-
less she resolved to try direct diplo-
macy. In August the Japanese Min-
ister at St. Petersburg presented to the
Russian Government a basis of agree-
ment in which both countries were to
guarantee the independence and in-
tegrity of China and Korea and to
maintain the principle of equal oppor-
tunity for the commerce and industry
of all nations in both these countries.
Russia positively refused to consider
Manchuria as outside her sphere of
action, or to agree that all nations
should have equal opportunities of
commerce and industry in that district.
She had built a railway across it, she
had fortified Port Arthur, she had the
right to maintain troops there for the
preservation of order ; these rights she
would not surrender for **the open
door." So far as Korea was concerned,
Russia agreed that Japan had some
rights there but claimed some herself.
She wanted a neutral zone in Northern
Korea which would be left open for
both nations. Japan had an experience
of neutral zones and joint occupation
in Saghalien and knew quite well what
such an arrangement would mean.
Negotiations were continued at
Tokio and the Russian Ambassador
there went so far as to settle upon
certain concessions which Russia might
make. In October, these concessions
were forwarded to St. Petersburg for
confirmation. No answer was received
until December, and then the conces-
sions were refused. Japan then pre-
sented another modified note and
waited for an answer until early in the
second month of the present year. On
February 5th, the Japanese Minister at
St. Petersburg presented a note to the
Russian Government severing diplo-
matic relations between the two
Governments. On the night of Febru-
ary 8th the Japanese fleet attacked
Port Arthur.
It will thus be seen that the present
war is not an accidental event. It is
the result of fifty years of Russian
aggression in the East, of fifty years
of Russian determination to be a power
on the Pacific. By playing the part of
friend to China whenever that great
hulking aggregation of individuals got
into trouble, she has gradually acquired
possession of Northern China which
she has crossed with railways and
guarded with fortifications, armies and
fleets. A few years more and Korea
would have come under her sway.
Then Japan would have had Russian
guns pointed across almost the whole
of her territory. When that stage was
reached, what could forty-five milliobs
of people hope to hold against one
hundred and fifty millions, if the latter
chose to be aggressive?
Unfortunately for Russian designs
and ambitions, Japan has suddenly
become a modern nation. Before 1850
the Japs were forbidden by their rulers
either to leave the country or to have
intercourse with foreigners. In the
twinkling of an eye this exclusion
policy was changed. In 1867, Mut-
suhito, the present progressive Em-
peror, came to the throne with new
ideas. He was determined to introduce
Western civilization : constitutional
government, representative institu-
tions, equality before the law, impartial
administration of justice, a broad sys-
tem of education, modern industrial
methods and a progressive army and
navy. In fifty years Japan has been
transformed friom a position similar to
that in which China is still content, to
that occupied by such countries as
France, Germany, England and the
United States. Young Japs were sent
out to all the modern nations to learn
what was best in the government,
institutions and civilization of each,
and to bring back their information to
Japan. Educationists, administrators,
engineers, law*yers and other teachers
were imported from all over the world
to help in the transformation. The
great families voluntarily surrendered
their hereditary estates and privileges,
and so far as possible social and
political equality was introduced. The
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THE STRUGGLE BETWEEN RUSSIA AND JAPAN
III
system of agriculture was improved ;
the export of silk was developed until
it now amounts to $3 1,000,000 a year;
the coal mines were operated on
improved plans so that 9,000,000 tons
were produced in 1901 ; the camphor
trade of Formosa was developed ; the
export of tea was enlarged ; a national
university was founded ; cotton mills
were built and railways were construct-
ed. Japan became a Western nation
and now she is fighting to show that
she must hereafter be recognized as
has increased from 74,000,000 to 150,-
000,000.
Neither Korea nor China are fit to
stand against the Russian advance.
Korea has an area of 82,000 square
miles, a little more than the Prov-
ince of Manitoba, or about one- third
of the Province of Ontario. Its popu-
lation, it is true, is about 17,000,000,
or three times as large as that of Ca-
nada, but that population is composed
of ignorant and unprogressive farmers.
It has always been disputed territory,
MAP SHOWING THE RUSSIAN ADVANCE IN ASIA DURING THE LAST FIFTY
YEARS. THE DISTRICT JUST ABOVE VLADIVOSTOCK WAS
SECURED FROM CHINA IN 1 855
one of the seven or eight great nations
of the world.
If Japan had not wakened up, no one
could doubt that she would eventually
have been swallowed up, as China is
likely to be. The history of the last
fifty years shows that at least one-
quarter of the Chinese Empire has
passed under other flags, most of it to
Russia. All the district north of Af-
ghanistan and east of the Caspian Sea
has passed under Russian sway; Amur
and Maritime, north of the Amur
River, were recently Chinese territory;
Manchuria and the Liaotung Peninsula
are still nominally Chinese territory,
but really part of the Russian Empire.
In fifty years the population of Russia
and alternately governed by China and
Japan, and its people are not organ-
ized to withstand aggression.
Nor is China in a much better state.
Patriotism and efficient government
are unknown qualities. While other
nations have been relying on military
prowess and their own strong arm,
China has been depending upon the be-
lief that their Emperor is the Vicar of
Heaven, the sole mediator between
God and man. Mysterious reverence
is the tie that has held this great Em-
pire together since the time when the
Roman legions of Titus were camped
around the Holy City, seventy years
after the birth of Christ; from the time
when Egypt and Mesopotamia were
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
the dominant powers of the Eastern
Mediterranean. The Emperor is also
the father of the nation, and all his
children honour and reverence him.
Only this and the efficiency of Chinese
diplomacy have held that Empire to-
gether so long. Li Hung Chang and
the present Empress are the greatest
modern representatives of this diplo-
macy— types of the whole nation. Li
Hung Chang's diplomacy has already
been referred to. The Empress is ** an
illiterate profligate, an ignorant and
unscrupulous concubine, whom fortune
an ally and the United States a friend
of the Japanese. It is to Japan that
Western civilization looks to preserve
the open door on the Pacific Coast.
With the downfall of Japan, would
come the downfall of British, German,
French and American trade in the
Orient. Hence the Western world
hopes that Japan will win.
Even though the struggle be a short
one, it must be expensive. The Span-
ish-American War was not prolong^ed
but it cost the United States more than
$350,000,000. The South African
THE RUSSIAN BATTLESHIP POBIEDA
Damag'ed by a Japanese mine on April 13th, at the time when the Petropavlovsk was sunk
made mother of a puppet Emperor."
Yet she wields a wonderful power at
home and among the diplomats of
other nations. Moreover, the Chinese
are born traders and artisans. In
their business qualities they resemble
the Jews. Even when China falls they
will be the merchants and artisans
of the earth. The toilers in Europe
and America have in them the great
competitor of the future. As fighters
and governors they are not competent
to stand against the Slav for a moment.
The helplessness of Korea and China
but increases the difficulties of Japan.
It also indicates why Great Britain is
Campaign would rank only as a second-
rate war but the cost to Great Britain
was $1,200,000,000. If the war lasts
for any great length of time each Em-
pire will find it difficult to finance an
undertaking which may easily cost
$1,000,000 per day. The public debt
of Russia stands to-day at about
$4,250,000,000 and it is difficult to see
how this can be greatly increased in
spite of the enormous size of the
country. Of this huge quantity of
floating securities France holds more
than $1,400,000,000 and France has
been the great market for Russian
securities. The remainder is held in
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THE NECKLACE
"3
Germany, Holland, Belgium or at
home. Whether these countries would
be inclined to increase their holdings
in order to protect what they now have
remains to be seen. Japan's debt is
only about $300,000,000 and by far the
greater part of it is in domestic loans.
It is one of the smallest of national
debts and on a per capita basis is less
than that of any other great nation.
What financing Japan has done in the
outside world has been done in Eng-
land. At the present time the Anglo-
Saxon money markets are somewhat
overloaded and further Japanese flo-
tations would be somewhat difficult.
As a preparation for this War she has
succeeded in floating at home a loan
for $50,000,000 and the enthusiasm of
the people would probably ensure
further success of the same kind if it
were needed. Nevertheless Russia has
undoubtedly greater resources for the
raising of money and will be best able
to finance an extended war. Japan
will not fight long — the Liaotung
Peninsula and Korea would probably
satisfy her.
THE NECKLACE
By GUY DE MAUPASSANT
|HE was one of those pretty
and charming girls who
are sometimes, as if by a
mistake of destiny, born in
a family of clerks. She
had no dowry, no expectations, no
means of being known, understood,
loved, wedded by any rich and dis-
tinguished man; and she let herself
be married to a little clerk at the Min-
istry of Public Instruction.
She dressed plainly because she
could not dress well, but she was as
unhappy as though she had really fall-
en from her proper station; since with
women there is neither caste nor rank;
and beauty, grace and charm act in-
stead of family birth. Natural fine-
ness, instinct for what is elegant, sup-
pleness of wit, are the marks of aris-
tocracy, and make from women of the
people the equals of the very greatest
ladies.
She suffered ceaselessly, feeling her-
self born for aU the delicacies and all
the luxuries. She suffered from the
poverty of her dwelling, from the
wretched look of the walls, from the
worn-out chairs, from the ugliness of
the curtains. All those things, of
which another woman of her rank
would never have been conscious, tor-
tured her and made her angry. The
sight of the little Breton peasant who
did her humble housework aroused in
her regrets which were despairing, and
distracted dreams. She thought of
the silent antechambers hung with Or-
iental tapestry, lit by tall bronze can-
delabra, and of the two great footmen
in knee breeches who sleep in the big
arm-chairs, made drowsy by the heavy
warmth of the hot-air stove. She
thought of the long salons fitted up with
ancient silk, of the delicate furniture
carrying priceless curiosities, and of
the coquettish, perfumed boudoirs
made for talks at five o'clock with in-
timate friends, with men famous and
sought after, whom all women envy
and whose attention they all desire.
When she sat down to dinner be-
fore the round table, covered with a
table-cloth three days' old, opposite her
husband, who uncovered the soup-
tureen and declared with an enchant-
ed air: **Ah, the good pot-au-feuf I
don't know anything better than that,"
she thought of dainty dinners, of shin-
ing silverware, of tapestry which peo-
pled the walls with ancient personages
and with strange birds flying in the
'Copyright in the United States by Harper & Brothers.
2
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
midst of a fairy forest; and she thought
of delicious dishes served on marvel-
lous plates, and of the whispered gal-
lantries which you listen to with a
sphinx-like smile, while you are eating
the pink flesh of a trout or the wings
of a quail.
She had no dresses, no jewels, noth-
ing. And she loved nothing but that;
she felt made for that. She would so
have liked to please, to be envied, to
be charming, to be sought after.
She had a friend, a former school-
mate at the convent, who was rich,
and whom she did not like to go and
see any more, because she suffered so
much when she came back.
But one evening her husband return-
ed home with a triumphant air, and
holding a large envelope in his hand.
** There," said he, ** there is some-
thing for you."
She tore the paper sharply, and drew
out a printed card which bore these
words :
**The Minister of Public Instruc-
tion and Mme. Georges Ramponneau
request the honour of M. and Mme.
Loisel's company at the palace of the
Ministry on Monday evening, January
i8th."
Instead of being delighted, as her
husband hoped, she threw the invita-
tion on the table with disdain, mur-
muring:
'* What do you want me to do with
that?"
**But,my dear, I thought you would
be glad. You never go out, and this
is such a fine opportunity. I had
awful trouble to get it. Everyone
wants to go; it is very select, and they
are not giving many invitations to
clerks. The whole official world will
be there."
She looked at him with an irritated
eye, and she said impatiently:
•* And what do you want me to put
on my back?"
He had not thought of that. He
stammered:
**Why, the dress you go to the
theatre in. It looks very well to
me.
He stopped distracted, seeing that
his wife was crying. Two great tears
descended slowly from the corners of
her eyes towards the corners of her
mouth. He stuttered:
** What's the matter? What's the
matter ?"
But, by a violent effort, she had con-
quered her grief, and she replied, W\t\\.
a calm voice, while she wiped her wet
cheeks:
** Nothing. Only I have no dress,
and therefore I can't go to this ball.
Give your card to some colleague
whose wife is better equipped than I."
He was in despair. He resumed:
''Come, let us see, Mathilde. How
much would it cost, a suitable dress,
which you could use on other occa-
sions; something very simple ?"
She reflected several seconds, mak-
ing her calculations and wondering also
what sum she could ask without draw-
ing on herself an immediate refusal
and a frightened exclamation from the
economical clerk.
Finally, she replied, hesitatingly:
" I don't know exactly, but I think
I could manage it with four hundred
francs. "
He had grown a little pale, because
he was laying aside just that amount
to buy a gun to treat himself to a little
shooting next summer on the plain of
Nanterre, with several friends who
went to shoot larks down there of a
Sunday.. But he said:
"All right. I will give you four
hundred francs. And try to have -a
pretty dress."
The day of the ball drew near, and
Mme. Loisel. seemed sad, uneasy,
anxious. Her dres3 was ready, how-
ever. Her husband said to her one
evening:
"What is the matter? Come, you've
been so queer these last three days. "
And she answered :
"It annoys me not to have a single
jewel, not a single stone, nothings to
put on. I should look like dis-
tress. I should almost rather not g^o
at all."
He resumed:
"You might wear natural flowers.
It's very stylish at this time of the year.
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THE NECKLACE
"5
For ten francs you can get two or
three magnificent roses."
She was not convinced.
*'No; there's nothing more humili-
ating than to look poor among other
women who are rich."
But her husband cried :
*'How stupid you are ! Go look up
your friend Mme. Forestier, and ask
her to lend you some jewels. You're
quite thick enough with her to do
that."
She uttered a cry of joy :
"It's true. I never thought of it."
The next day she went to her friend
and told of her distress. Mme. For-
estier went to a wardrobe with a glass
door, took out a large jewel-box,
brought it back, opened it, and said to
Mme. Loisel :
"Choose, my dear."
She saw first of all some bracelets,
then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian
cross, gold and precious stones of ad-
mirable workmanship. She tried on
the ornaments before the glass, hesitat-
ed, could not make up her mind to
part with them, to give them back.
She kept asking :
'* Haven't you any more?"
**Why yes. Look! I don't know
what you like."
All of a sudden she discovered, in a
black satin box, a superb necklace of
diamonds ; and her heart began to beat
with an immoderate desire. Her hands
trembled as she took it. She fastened
it around her throat, outside her high-
necked dress and remained lost in
ecstasy at the sight of herself.
Then she asked, hesitating, filled
with anguish :
'*Can you lend me thdt, only that?"
** Why yes, certainly."
She sprang upon the neck of her
friend, kissed her passionately, then
fled with her treasure.
The day of the ball arrived. Mme.
Loisel made a great success. She was
prettier than them all, elegant, graci-
ous, smiling, and crazy with joy. All
the men looked at her, asked her name,
endeavoured to be introduced. All the
attaches of the Cabinet wanted to waltz
with her. She was remarked by the
Minister himself.
She danced with intoxication, with
passion, made drunk by pleasure, for-
getting all, in the triumph of her beauty,
in the glory of her success, in a sort of
cloud happiness composed of all this
homage, of all this admiration, of all
these awakened desires, and of that
sense of complete victory which. is so
sweet to woman's heart.
She went away about four o'clock in
the morning. Her husband had been
sleeping since midnight in a little
deserted ante-room, with three other
gentlemen whose wives were having a
v^ry good time.
He threw over her shoulders the
wraps which he had brought, modest
wraps of common life, whose poverty
contrasted with the elegance of the
ball dress. She felt this and wanted to
escape so as not to be remarked by the
other women, who were enveloping
themselves in costly furs.
Loisel held her back.
*'Wait a bit. You will catcbcold
outside. I will go and call a cab."
But she did not listen to him, and
rapidly descended the stairs. When
they were in the street they did not find
a carriage ; and they began to look for
one, shouting after the cabmen whom
they saw passing by at a distance.
They went down towards the Seine,
in despair, shivering with cold. At
last they found on the quay one of
those ancient noctambulant coupes
which, exactly as if they were ashamed
to show their misery during the day,
are never seen round Paris until after
nightfall.
It took them to their door in the Rue
des Martyrs, and once more, sadly,
they climbed up homeward. All was
ended, for her. And as to him, he
reflected that he must be at the Minis-
try at ten o'clock.
She removed the wraps which cover-
ed her shoulders, before the glass, so as
once more to see herself in all her glory.
But suddenly she uttered a cry. She
had no longer the necklace around her
neck I
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Her husband, already half-undressed,
demanded :
'•What is the matter with you?"
. She turned madly towards him :
**I have — I have — IVe lost Mme.
Forestier's necklace."
He stood up distracted.
* 'What !— How !— Impossible !"
And they looked in the folds of her
dress, in the folds of her cloak, in her
pockets, everywhere. They did not
find it.
He asked :
'•You're sure you had it on when
you left the ball?"
"Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the
palace. "
"But if you had lost it in the street
we should have heard it fall. It must
be in the cab ?"
"Yes, probably. Did you take his
number?"
"No. And you, didn't you notice
it?"
"No."
They looked thunderstruck at one
another. At last Loisel put on his
clothes.
"I shall go back on foot," said he,
"over the whole route which we have
taken, to see if I can't find it."
And he went out. She sat waiting
on a chair in her ball dress, without
strength to go to bed, overwhelmed,
without fire, without a thought.
Her husband came back about seven
o'clock. He had found nothing.
He went to Police Headquarters,
to the newspaper offices, to offer a
reward; he went to the cab com-
panies— everywhere, in fact, whither
he was urged by the least suspicion of
hope.
She waited all day, in the same
condition of mad fear before this
terrible calamity.
Loisel returned at night with a
hollow, pale face ; he had discovered
nothing.
"You must write to your friend,"
said he, "that you have broken the
clasp of her necklace and that you are
having it mended. That will give us
time to turn around."
She wrote at his dictation.
At the end of the week they had lost
all hope. .
And Loisel, who had aged five years,
declared :
"We must consider how to replace
that ornament."
The next day they took the box
which had contained it, and they went
to the jeweller whose name was found
within. He consulted his books.
" It was not I, madame, who sold
that necklace ; I muSt simply have
furnished the case."
Then they went from jeweller to
jeweller, searching for a necklace like
the other, consulting their memories,
sick both of them with chagrin and
with anguish.
They found in a shop at the Palais
Royal a string of diamonds which
seemed to them exactly like the one
they looked for. It was worth forty
thousand francs. They could have it
for thirty-six.
So they begged the jeweller not to
sell it for three days yet. And they
made a bargain that he should buy it
back for thirty-four thousand francs,
in case they found the other one before
the end of February.
Loisel possessed eighteen thousand
francs which his father had left him.
He would borrow the rest.
He did borrow, asking a thousand
francs of one, five, hundred of another,
five louis here, three louis there. He
gave notes, took up ruinous obli-
gations, dealt with usurers, and all the
race of lenders. He compromised all
the rest of his life, risked his signature,
without even knowing if he could meet
it ; and, frightened by the pains yet to
come, by the black misery which was
about to fall upon him, by the prospect
of all the physical privations and of all
the mortal tortures which he was to
suffer, he went to get the new necklace,
putting down upon theT merchant's
counter thirty-six thousand francs.
When Mme. Loisel took back the
necklace, Mme. Forestier said to her,
with a chilly manner :
"You should have returned it sooner,
I might have needed it. "
She did not open the case, as her
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THE NECKLACE
117
friend had so much feared. If she had
detected the substitution, what would
she have thought, what would she have
said? Would she not have taken
Mme. Loisel for a thief?
Mme. Loisel now knew the horrible
existence of the needy. She took her
part, moreover, all on a sudden, with
heroism. That dreadful debt must be
paid. She would pay it. They dis-
missed their servant ; they changed
their lodgings ; they rented a garret
under the roof.
She came to know what heavy house-
work meant and the odious cares of
the kitchen. She washed the dishes,
using her rosy nails on the greasy
pots and paps. She washed the dirty
linen,, the shirts, and the dish-cloths,
which she dried upon a line ; she
carried the slops down to the street
every morning, and carried up the
water, stopping for breath at every
landing. And, dressed like a woman
of the people, she w^nt to the fruiter,
the grocer, the butcher, her basket on
her arm, bargaining, insulted, defend-
ing her miserable money sou by sou.
Each month they had to meet some
notes, renew others, obtain more time.
Her husband worked in the evening
making a fair copy of some tradesman's
accounts, and late at night he often
copied manuscript for five sous a page.
And this life lasted ten years.
At the end of ten years they had
paid everything, everything with the
rates of usury, and the accumulations
of the compound interest.
Mme. Loisel looked old now. She
had become the woman of impoverished
households, strong and hard and rough.
With frowsy hair, skirts askew, and
red bands, she talked loud while wash-
ing the floor with great swishes of
water. But sometimes, when her hus-
band was at the office, she sat down
near the window, and she thought of
that gay evening of Jong ago, of that
ball where she had been so beautiful
and so feted.
What would have happened if she
had not lost that necklace? Who
knows? How life is strange and
changeful! How little a thing is
needed for us to be lost or to be
saved !
But, one Sunday, having gone to
take a walk in tKe Champs Elysees to
refresh herself from the labours of the
week, she suddenly perceived a woman
who was leading a child. It was
Mme. Forestier, $till young, still beauti-
ful, still charming.
Mme. Loisel felt moved. Was she
going to speak to her ? Yes, certainly.
And now that she had paid, she was
going to tell her all about it. Why
not?
She went up.
** Good-day, Jeanne."
The other, astonished to be famil-
iarly addressed by this plain good-
wife, did not recognize her at all and
stammered :
** But — Madame ! — I do not know —
You must have mistaken."
••No. I am Mathilde Loisel,"
Her friend uttered a cry.
••Oh, my poor Mathilde! How
you are changed. ! "
•• Yes, I have had days hard enough,
since I have seen ,you, days wretched
enough — and that because of you ! *'
'•Of me! How so?"
••Do you remember that diamond
necklace which you lent me to wear
at the ministerial ball ? "
••Yes. Well?"
••Well, I lost it."
•• What do you mean ? You brought
it back."
••.I brought you back another just
like it. And for this we have been
ten years paying. You can understand
that it was not easy for us, who had
nothing. At last it is ended, and I am
very glad."
Mme. Forestier had stopped.
• • You say you bought a necklace of
diamonds to replace mine ? "
•• Yes. You never noticed it then ?
They were very like." And she smiled
with a joy which was proud and naive
at once.
Mme. Forestier, strongly moved,
took her two hands.
*• Oh, my poor Mathilde ! Why, my
necklace was paste. It was worth at
most five hundred francs ! "
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DIPLOMATS SACRIFICE
A RACING STORY
By IV. A. FRASER, author of '' Mooswa^' ''Thoroughbreds,'' etc.
AM **Jim," a cab horse.
In the stables I am known
as No. 17.
It seems queer, this
London world, with its
cockney slang — queer to me, for I was
born in Australia twelve years ago.
Bli' me ! — there, you see, that's Larri-
kin; it will out — but it was different
out there.
I was a prince, had royal blood in
my veins ; but still I didn't learn to
write or anything till I came to London
and got into the ni^ht school for cab
horses. That's why I never told this
story before.
I was two years old when Trainer
Southall came down from Calcutta and
bought me, and three other colts that
could gallop a bit, from White — bought
me to race in India. It was after I
had made a big name in Calcutta that
they sent me to England. But I never
did much good here, and one day I
was sold to the man who put me
between the shafts of a hansom.
Southall had been in stables since
he was a little boy, and knew all about
us. He said I had sloping shoulders,
was short-coupled in the back, long
underneath, and well down in the
hocks, had great quarters, a thin, bony
head, and ears like silk. I didn't
understand it all then, for I was only a
colt, and had spent more time in the
paddock than in the stable ; but I knew
he was praising me, and when he put
his hand under my chin, and leaned his
head against mine, I patted his cheek
with my nose.
He laughed, and swore he would
have me if I cost him a thousand
guineas. He stuck his thumb under
my upper lip, and, looking at my teeth,
said, '* Bless us! he's only a babe;
but he's a whoppin' big *un — nearly
sixteen hands."
Well, he took me away to Calcutta.
The trip on the boat was horrible — I
don't want to talk about it. I hope no
children of mine ever have to go
through that ; but they won't, for they
are all in India now.
In India they kept me till I was four
years old, before I was started in a
race. Of course I galloped with the
other horses that were in the stable.
Southall used to do all sorts of
funny things with me. When he knew
people would be looking at these stable
gallops, he put a heavy saddle with
two stun of lead in it on my back, so
that I could not beat the other horses.
The people said I was no good ; but
Southall would laugh, and tickle me
in the ribs, and say, "You're no good,
my big buck; you're no good, d'ye
hear? But, my word, you'll win the
Viceroy's Cup in a walk."
The first race I ran was down at
Hyderabad. It was the Nizam's Cup;
and Southall, and my owner, and little
Abbot banked their money on my
chances in a way that made me nervous.
^How they knew I could beat Table
Top I don't understand — but I did.
Such an uproar there was. I heard
Southall tell the jockey, •* Jim," to get
away in the lead; so that every time
the other horses started I jumped as
quick as I could. After we had gone
a half-mile Jim pulled me back and kept
me behind Table Top until near the
finish. When he let go of my head I
shot past the other horse as though he
were walking.
They threw a big blanket over me
when they took the light saddle off my
back after the race. Then I was led
down to the stall and scraped with a
steel band, and rubbed with straw un-
til I was dry.
My word, but they made a lot of
me. The ladies patted my neck,
18
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DIPLOMATS SACRIFICE
119
and the trainer said he wished I could
drink a bottle of champagne with him.
That was the way with those boy»;
when they won they drank champagne
and played poker all night, and bullied
everybody as though they were kings.
It was five weeks between the Hy-
derabad races and the Viceroy's Cup,
and I heard my master tell the trainer
that I should not be started again before
that race.
Going down to Calcutta I caught
cold in the train. Southall put a big
felt pad on my chest when he put me
in the box car, and I got very hot and
wet from the perspiration. As I was
moving a little the pad caught in a
nail and was pulled to one side. I
could not put it back; the night air
struck cold on my wet skin, and in the
morning I was coughing.
When Southall saw me he cried.
"My poor boy!" he said; " here's the
greatest certainty in the world gone
wrong. "
My owner and all of them had bet a
small fortune on me for the Viceroy's
Cup, and they were more solicitous
about my health than if I had been the
ODly son in my master's family.
My master had a daughter, Miss
Jess. I liked her better than anybody,
better even that Southall. Before I
was in what they called ' ' hard train-
ing " she used to bring me lumps of
sugar, little pieces of salt, and some-
times a carrot. She wasalways scratch-
ing my ear, or rubbing my nose with
her little hand, or doing something to
show that we were friends.
**You are a gentleman, Diplomat,"
she would say, and would pull my
mustache or pinch my arm.
After I got back to Calcutta from
Hyderabad she came to the stable one
morning, and took my breath away by
saying: "My poor boy, you're sick;
I'm sorry. It's a shame; they were
careless — ^somebody was. But I don't
feel as badly as I ought to over it, Dip,
for I want another horse to win the
Cup; but you don't know anything
about that," she added, flicking at my
nose with the feathery end of a carrot
top.
Then she dragged my head to one
side and laid her cheek against mine.
I felt something wet trickle down my
nose, and when she lifted her sweet
face I saw that her eyes were blurred.
I couldn't understand it at all ; but I
had horse sense enough to know that
she was sorry for me. Besides, I had
heard Southall say that nobody could
understand a woman's way.
My cold got better ; but the fever
went down my legs. After a gallop
on the hard, dry race-track my limbs
would swell up, and I would go quite
lame. The putties (bandages) they
put on me did some good, but the
tendons would swell and get sore.
Southall was in despair. He played
the hose on my shins after each gallop,
and rubbed at them until he nearly
took the skin off. But still the legs
kept weak.
About this time I learned why Miss
Jess didn't want me to win the Vice-
roy's Cup.
One morning, after a gallop on the
course, I was waiting for the string to
go home when I saw a horse I had
known in Australia. He was in the
stall next mine. It was Sting. We
had been in the same paddock over
there.
**What are you running in?" I
asked him. " I didn't know you were
in the country."
** The Trials and the Viceroy's Cup,"
he responded.
One of the other fellows entered in
the Viceroy's Cup, Robin Hood, was
on my right, and when Sting said
this, Robin, who was seventeen hands
high, gave a snort, and exclaimed,
** What ! a little sawed-off runt like
you expect to beat all the long legs
over a mile-and-a-quarter ? My word,
but you have got a fair-sized gall."
'•No," answered Sting; ** I don't
expect to win, but my master. Captain
Thornton, thinks I can."
** Well, you can't/ " snapped Robin.
"Diplomat here will give you a stun
over that distance. "
" Don't mind him," I said, speaking
to the little horse. "Tell me what is
the matter."
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THE CANADIAN MA GAZINE
First Water had been travelling
abovit in a circle in front of the stalls,
led by a syce. The latter stopped to
talk to the boy who was putting the
putties on my legs, and the big chest-
nut heard Robin Hood sneer at little
Sting.
** You big lob, you ! why doh*t you
leave the little man alone ? YouVe
seventeen hands high, and your thigh
is as big as my neck, but you never
won a race in your life — not since you
came to India, anyway. Everybody
knows what's the matter with you,
too. Yoli're fast enough, but when
any of us squeeze you, you just quit.
You funk it, and my trainer says he
wouldn't have you as a gift — your
heart's in the wrong place, he says."
This made Robin furious, for he was
a bad-tempered brute, and he lashed
out a vicious kick at First Water.
"What did Sting do in the Cau'field
Cup, at home in Australia?" continued ,
First Water. '* Didn't we all pocket
the little chap, and keep him there for
a mile — and then, when we rounded
the corner for home, he got through
and made hacks of us, winning by as
far as he pleased? Don't mind that big
soft mushroom. Sting. We're glad to
see you out from Australia. Did Teddy
Weeks bring you over? You'll find
the ground hard and dry here, and the
heat'll crack your hoofs and burn your
liver. My hoof is split so that I have
got to wear a big all-round shoe on it."
Then the syce led First Water away,
and a stable boy came to take Robin
Hood for a spin.
When we were alone Sting com-
menced to talk.
"You were only a youngster when
you left Australia, Dip," he said ;
*• how have you gone on?* I heard my
master, the captain, telling people that
you were favourite for the Viceroy's
Cup, and that you were the only horse
he was afraid of. And look here. Dip,
I'll tell you a secret, for you'll not give
it away, will you ? The captain's
awfully fond of your master's daughter.
Miss Jess — I've seen them together
and I've heard them talk. I've heard
a lot of things ; they think I don't
understand, and the syce only knows
the pagan language they have got here,
so they talk.
"Last night the captain said to me:
'You've got to win the Cup, old man,
for if you don't I'll make a mess of it.
Besides, you'd like to have Jess for a
mistress, wouldn't you?' And one
morning your mistress, Miss Jess,
came to me on the course, and, rubbing
her soft little hand down my neck, said:
'You must be a brave little horse, and
win the Cup for your master.' Dull
spurs! but I laughed out at this — it
was too funny. For my master, to be
sure ! — there I was to run and win, not
the Cup alone, but a small fortune in
bets, so that the captain could have
your mistress. Dip. Do you see now
what is bothering me?"
I nodded slowly for this had set me
thinking. This was whf Miss Jess
had been unable to fret more over my
illness.
"Well, you'll just have to win," I
said to him. "You won three times
in Australia, and ought to be good
enough to beat these other fellows who
should be running as qualified hunters.
I'm sure I hope you do, for if my
mistress will 'be happy through your
winning that will please me."
"Yes, I won the Cau'field, Dip, but
the getting through the crowd was just
a little too much for me. When I
gallop more than a mile now I get a
pain in my side."
"That's what Robin Hood says," I
ejaculated. "He says he gets a pain in
his side; but we all laugh at him, and
think it's because he's soft and cuts it."
" No, Dip, it's not that. You'll find
his heart has been strained once, same
as mine — has had to do too much. By
Saint Gladiateur! when you're gallop-
ing there — the other fellows knocking
you about, shoving you against the
rail, and carrying you wide on the
outside of the turns, or closing in on
you in a pocket, and the dust is that
thick you're breathing mud instead of
pure air, so that the pipes leading to
your lungs are all choked up, and a
boy on your back, who doesn't know
anything but to try and get in front,
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DIPLOMA T'S SA CRIFICE
121
Sticks the sharp steel into your flank,
or hits you with a rawhide whip, what's
a fellow to do? It's awful! but if a
fellow's got any blood in him, any of
the king's blood, he's got to make
another try — ^just a wee bit more.
That's what I did at Cau'field, and I
got through, but something snapped.
Everybody was saying that I'd won
easy ; but I didn't. 1 had an awful
pain, but I just managed to stay in
front, for the others were dead beat,
too. That's why I get a pain when I
gallop more than a mile. That's why
my owner in Australia sold me. He
said Td turned lazy ; but he didn't tell
Captain Thornton. And now my
master and your mistress are risking
all their happiness on my winning the
Cup."
I shuddered at this^ for it was all
new to me. The only race I had
started in was the Nizam's Cup, and
my jockey had used neither whip nor
spur ; had just kept me back a little
with the bit, for I wanted to show
them all how fast I could run ; I
liked it.
'* I wish I could tell my master,"
sighed Sting. << He thinks I'm all
right. A vet looked at me when I
landed, and said 1 was sound as a bell.
These men are suchfools — sometimes."
Just then Sting's trainer came and
ordered the syce to bring him out ;
the jockey, Archie, got upon his back,
and they went on the course for a
gallop.
** Who's that fellow?" said a big
bay horse, Table Top, as we stood for
a few minutes close together in the
paddock.
" That's little Sting," I replied.
** Oh, I know," he answered ; **Son
of Grandmaster. Grandmaster was
always blowing about his father,
Gladiateur, who won the English
Derby. He was a Frenchman, was
Gladiateur, and that's why they boasted
so much. We'll see what the breed
can do out in this blazing hot climate."
It seemed to me they all had a pick
on Sting because he was small, and
my heart warmed towards the little
fellow. As the days wore on I began
to have doubts about being able to
win myself. My legs got so bad that
I had to give up galloping on the hard
course. They gave me frightful long
walks, and swam me for hours in a
big pond to keep my muscles hard.
This eased my legs, but it took away
my appetite, and I always left part of
the oats in the feed- box.
This made the trainer pull a long
face ; but he was so kind. He gave
me raw eggs, and sorted the hay all
over, picking out the best for me.
He was a dear chap.
My owner was a pompous man, and
when he came to the stables everybody
jumped about as though they were
going to lose their heads.
One day Southall said to him, <'The
horse is losing flesh, sir ; he won't eat,
and I'm afraid he'll break down before
the race."
My master flew into a rage, and
cursed everybody. He swore that
somebody must have drugged me.
Miss Jess was with him, and she broke
in with, ''Why, papa, nobody would
do that ; besides, Dip knows as much
as a man — he wouldn't eat it. Why
don't j^ou do with him as the doctors
did with me when I. was run down,
give him stout or something to drink."
Everybody laughed at this, even the
father, who was so angry ; but the
trainer said, ** My word, sir, that's a
good idea ; let me try it."
They had to do something, so the
master consented, for he knew that
trainers often gave whisky to horses
who were a bit soft, when they were
going to run a hard race. After that
I had three quart bottles of beer twice
a day. It was a funny way to train a
horse, the knowing ones said — swim
hin:i, and feed him on beer ; but I felt
better.
We were a sorry lot, the whole of
us. Sting had a weak heart ; so had
Robin Hood, as I could see now ; First
Water had a split hoof, liable to go at
any minute ; Table Top was so big
and lazy they couldn't get him down
to condition ; Jack-in-the-Green had a
splint ; and I fancy all of the others
had something the matter.
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122
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
I kept thiDking it over, and one day
when I was out for a walk I met Sting
coming home from the course. **Look
here, little man," I said, <' I'd like to
see you win that Cup on account of
my mistress."
** I can't beat you," answered the
chestnut; ** you're young, and fast,
and sound."
** I'm not sound," I added ; ** but I
think I can beat all the others. Do
you think you are fast enough to do
them up ? " I asked him.
**Yes," he answered, simply; *• if
this pain doesn't choke me off I can
beat them all, because I did it in
Australia."
Then I did an awful thing, gentle-
men ; I turned traitor to my master.
Even as I write it, it seems there is no
excuse. But now I am only a cab
horse in London and have no reputa-
tion to keep up, so it doesq't matter.
To Sting I said : *< In the race, dash
to the front with me just as we turn
into the straight. I'll keep a place
ready for you next the rail on the in-
side. As we turn the corner I'll bore
out wide and close the others off. You
rush up in my place and win. If you
catCt win, I mil; for I have speed
enough to gallop over these cart-
horses. I'll teach those big lubbers
not to despise a horse just because he's
small."
**That won't be right," suggested
Sting ; but I could see him prick his
small, silken ears eagerly, and his big
eyes glistened with delight. I gulped
down something at this, for I had
never done anything mean before, and
answered :
** I know it's not right, but my mis-
tress will be happy if you win."
** Well," said Sting, ** I suppose we
have a right to arrange races among
ourselves sometimes as well as the
men have. Only the other day I heard
a conversation between some of your
people and the Nawab of Ballygunge.
They advised him to buy me if I won
the Trial Stakes. This race, you know,
is a few days before the Viceroy's Cup.
Then they talked among themselves,
and I know that if they buy me I am
to be run so as to allow you to win,
for they've got a pile of money on you.
But all the same I wouldn't do this if
it wasn't for your mistress ; for man's
code of morals wouldn't do for us
horses— it's not good enough."
Thinking over what I was going to
do made me morose ; I couldn't bear
to rub the trainer's cheek with my nose
any more. He said the beer was giv-
ing me a vicious temper, making me
sullen, and, that as soon as the race
was over, he'd make me take the
pledge — he'd shut off my beer.
I knew they'd be furious with me if
Sting won — all but Miss Jess.
Well, Sting won the Trials quite
handily, and the Nawab of Ballygunge
tried to buy him, but his owner refused
point blank. He swore he'd stick to
the little horse if it broke him. Sting
told me about this conversation, for
he'd heard it ; we both admired the
captain's pluck, and it made us a little
easier in our minds over doing him a
good turn.
The only man I felt really sorry for
was the trainer, Southall. If I could
only have told him to back Sting. I
tried every way I could think of. I
pretended to be very lame, and refused
to take even the beer, thinking that he
would become frightened and hedge on
Sting. But he put the liquor in a
strong soda-water bottle, and, opening
my mouth, held my head high and
poured it down my throat. I was
forced to swallow it ; so that failed.
He got mad and said, '' Damn you !
you don't want to win, I believe."
Wasn't it odd ?
Then came the day of the Viceroy's
Cup. Well I remember it ; it was the
day after Christmas, the 26th Decem-
ber. Early in the morning Miss Jess
came to see me, riding on a black-
legged bay Arab horse.
** Well, Dip," she said, flicking a fly
off my rump with her riding whip,
** I wish I could bribe you to let Sting
win. Father doesn't need all the
money he's going to land ; but you're
such an honest old chap I'm afraid you
wouldn't lose the race even for me."
Then she slipped into my mouth a
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DIPLOMAT'S SACRIFICE
123
little square of white sugar she had
hidden in the palm of her glove. I
had to laugh at the syce ; he saw the
Missie Baba fumbling for the piece of
sugar, and turned his head discreetly
away, pretending to be looking for my
brush. Everybody let Miss Jess have
her own way it seemed.
"That is a bribe," I said to myself,
**to lose the Viceroy's Cup for a lump
of sugar," and I made up my mind to
take all the whip and spur Jockey Jim
could give me, rather than show a
nose in front of the captain's horse at
the finish.
My ! there was a crowd of people at
the races. It was like Melbourne Cup
day on a small scale. I had a host of
friends, for I was the favourite. The
story of the beer and the swimming
had got out, however, and a great
many had backed Sting to win, especi-
ally since the Trial Stakes.
As we walked around in a circle in
the paddock before going out for the
race, I manoeuvred to get close behind
Sting to speak to him.
** Don't forget," I said, ** at the turn
into the straight, just before we leave
the old race stand, I'll be in the lead on
the inside — come through next the
rails; I'll pull out and carry them all
wide."
The little horse switched his long
bronze tarl caressingly across my neck,
and looked gratefully at me over his
shoulder.
" How did you feel after the trials?"
I asked.
** I had a pain in my side," he an-
swered, laconically; *' but I don't feel
it now."
Plucky little chap, I thought. They
say his grandfather, Gladiateur, was
just like that, brave as a lion.
Then a cornet sounded the signal for
the jockeys to mount. Archie swung
up on to Sting's broad back, and Jim
pressed his long, slim legs down my
sides. How Jim would hate to miss
riding the winner of the Viceroy's Cup.
I felt sorry for him.
Captain Thornton led his bonnie
horse out through the crowd and on to
the course.
As I passed the end of the seats in
the stand I saw Miss Jess. She didn't
see me; her eyes were following my
chum. Sting, and perhaps the man
who was leading him. They had
taken our wraps off, of course, and I
could see that Sting outclassed us all
in point of thoroughbred beauty. I
wasn't jealous, for I knew that he was
as plucky as he was good to look upon.
It was a mile and a quarter to go, so
none of us bothered much at the start
— we knew we'd have enough of it
before we got to the finishing post. I
knew the starter wouldn't send us off
until I, the favourite, was in a good
place; so as soon as I saw Sting had
ths best of the start, I broke away.
The flags fell, both of them, and we
rushed along.
When we were standing, there didn't
seem to be much wind, but as we tore
through it, it roared in our ears and
snapped and crackled at the jockeys'
colours, like the sound of the lashing of
whips. Archie was sitting quietly on
the little chestnut, and Jim had taken
a gentle pull at my teeth with the bit.
On the back of the course, after we'd
gone half-a-mile, two of our mates
commenced to creep up on the outside.
I could see that Sting had his eye on
them, and so had Archie. Neither of
us paid any attention to them. We
could pass that pair whenever we
wished.
Rounding the turn toward the old
stand, half-a-mile from the finish,
Robin Hood showed his nose close to
my shoulder. I galloped a little faster,
up on the inside of Sting. I knew if
Robin Hood got in front his big,
clumsy bulk might bar the road for the
little horse's rush home.
Gradually as we came opposite the
old stand, i worked my way on the
inside past Sting.
''Keep close behind," I gasped, as
we raced nose and nose oast the old
stand.
Neither of our riders had moved in
the saddle yet. They were good gen-
erals, both of them; they knew that
so far we two were playing the game
for keeps.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE.
Gradually I drew away from the little
horse. 1 heard his rider, Archie,
speak to him coaxin^ly once, but the
little fellow did not respond ; he had
faith in me.
Just at the corner of the straight there
was a mad scramble for places. Robin
Hood's big thundering hoofs were
pounding the course to dust at my
side. I could feel Sting's hot breath
on my quarters, and knew that his
nose was pushing close up for the
place I had promised him.
Table Top, Robin Hood, and First
Water came with a rush on the out-
side; whips cracking, colours snapping
in the wind, and a hurricane of sand
being thrown up by the eager, crunch-
ing hoofs. That was where the race
was to be settled they knew ; if they
could not swing into the stretch well
in line with me, they were done for.
Suddenly I swerved to the left.
With an oath Jim put all his strength
on my right rein. Further out I
bored, until I bumped up against
Robin Hood. The scramble was
fiendish.
Then the golden nozzle of my little
friend showed on my right. I could
hear Archie chirruping eagerly to the
gallant horse. Next he was clear of
them, and galloping a length in front
of me, still on the inside close to the
rails. Jim jabbed his sharp spurs into
my flanks as I straightened out for
home, but I paid no attention to that —
I did not blame him.
Up the straight we raced like that —
Sting's powerful hoofs driving the hot
earth into our faces.
As we neared the stand I could hear
the roar of voices ; it was like the
sound of the waves beating against the
ship I crossed the ocean in. I kept
my head just in front of Robin Hood ;
I could hear his rider cracking at the
big horse's great sides with the
whip.
Nose and nose, Robin Hood and I
raced ; slowly we were drawing up on
Sting ; inch by inch we gained on him.
I thought of swerving again on Robin
Hood, but Table Top was on my right
now — his head lapped on my shoulder;
I had to take care of them both. It
was terrible.
Sting was gradually coming back to
us. Would it all be thrown away ?
He had not far to go ; surely he
would last out long enough to win.
I saw him falter — Archie's whip went
in the air; the gallant little horse
swerved, pitched forward, and sud-
denly disappeared as we drove by him
in our mad rush. The hot blood
mounted to my brain — it was all Robin
Hood's fault. He should not win,
anyway.
The bit was loose in my mouth ;
there was no restraining pull. I shot
forward as I had in the finish for the
Nizam's Cup, a length ahead of Robin
Hood.
When I pulled up and walked back,
I saw a big crowd on the course.
They were standing about Sting. I
looked at the seat where Miss Jess had
sat when I went out. Her face was
buried in her handkerchief, and I wish-
ed that I had dropped instead of my
gallant chum.
It was all thrown away, for Sting
was dead — a dozen lengths from the
finish. The vet said he had broken
his heart. Game to the last — the
Gladiateur blood.
I couldn't count at that time, but
there was more than one heart broken
— three I think.
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BY CANOE
By WALTER S. JOHNSON
|HERE have been, and there
are still, thank heaven, cer-
tain unsophisticated folk
whom we call conservative.
They are persons often of an .
old school, or trained amid conditions
less complex than those which now
obtain. Upstart schemes they ab-
hor— that make of beauty, leisure,
nerves, a continued sacrifice to time
and speed. Old ways and things, old
times and books and friends they love,
because these appeal rather to the
heart than to the head; they are a
habit of life not easily put off, not a
wearisome approximation to prog-
ress and fashion. They move slow-
ly, read slowly — live slowly, in a
confident endeavour to glean, as they
live, carefully and thoroughly, all those
quiet pleasures which, hidden along
the by-paths of life, are revealed only
to them. The treasures of the great
world road had long ago been lost in
garish undistinctive light, and its
travellers too often confuse its pleas-
ures and its pains.
Hazlitt, with his staff, and Ruskin,
with his coach, are truly conservative.
For there are three, and only three,
ways of travelling, by coach, by foot,
by canoe. Coaching and walking are
peculiar to the more thickly populated
countries, for both depend on good
roads and on decent and frequent hos-
tels. But in a new land where towns
and villages are far apart, roads poor,
and the cosy continental inn unknown,
we are thrown back upon a less con-
ventional, still more delightful means
of locomotion. The holiday spent in
the canoe is the ideal holiday. Drawing
us away from our constant surround-
ings and from civilization to forests un-
measured and unblazed, and streams
untraversed, it involves a primitive kind
of life, and therefore very simple. Sur-
passing even the letter of the law, the
canoeist can, whensoever the spirit
movts him, take up at once his convey-
ance, shelter, bed and carry-all, — and
walk.
To hie away from the roar of the
great city and the inexorable pressure
of its life, ending the journey beside
some peaceful lake cradled among
primeval hills and forests, is a pleasure
indeed. One cannot but feel a thrill
of freedom and exultation in coming
thus into touch with nature in her '
wild simplicity. It is an opportunity
for idealists to get back, if only for a
short time, to simple, immemorial
means of life, to experience its actuali-.
ties, its positive needs. To early
realize these needs means happiness,
on the personal side at least. Nature
does her part lavishly. These autumn
days are hers — days flushed with
beauty, grace and splendour, filling
the mind with images of loveliness
which, remembered with '' a recol-
lected love," may be treasured through
the coming years. Hills with their
masses of colour flung together re-
gardless of laws of art, banks of green
picked out with intertwining wreaths
of reddest vine leaves, gradations of
maples with golden, brown and etio-
lated leaves, sumachs glowing with a
deep rich wine-coloured red, pines dark
and sombre, birches wan and leafless
— the whole overspread by a pale
blue sky flecked with clouds which
cause wave after wave of succeeding
light and shade, and bathed in the
glow of an afternoon sun — these are
nature's appeal to you to be joyous.
This health-giving pleasure of closer
contact with nature, which is so abid-
ingly ours, opens to the student of
books and life a world of fresh thought
and experienii^.
Stealing along dusky banks under
old-time elms and maples which have
nodded over many a war-party of
Braves, over coureurs de bois^ zealous
Jesuit eager to save souls, or French-
man aspiring to the conquest of a con-
tinent, we may be not of this present
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126
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
time or circumstance, but voyageurs of
an age and time more remote, of an
age of boundless aspiration, faith and
enterprise. We may be the trapper
tracked by malignant foe, or relentless
Brave hunting down the enemies of
his race. We may live in imagination
and in fact a life which, save to the
devotee of canoe and wild, has faded
forever into the past.
The impressions of a childhood
spent in the country become bedimmed
after long years of city life. ''Shades
of the prison-house" have closed about
us. But the distinctive calls and flight
of birds are eagerly heard or recog-
nized anew, never now to be forgotten,
for they are indelible by reason of an
awakened and maturer interest. The
infinite voices of solitude, the sifted
silence of vast forests, have a new and
graver import, carry a weightier mes-
sage to the heart. Our knowledge of
life is deeper now than then. We are
not in a passive, receptive state merely;
but learning, comparing past and
present experience, filling in the
lacunae left by a one-sided life. To
hear for the first time in years the
whip-poor-will, some still night, thrash
out its plaintive lonely call across some
little cove, is like the striking on the
ear of some rich voice from the past,
flooding the mind with memories long
since thick-blurred, but startled now
into intense life as the bow awakes the
strings — the memory of youthful pleas-
ures and expeditions, older loves and
losses, of hopes long since realized,
forgotten, shattered. It is a voice
from out the silence, from out the
darkness renewing the past. Just as
dream life is often more interesting
than waking life, so this life of the
woods, far removed from the condi-
tions of ordinary existence, yet pre-
sents by subtle, often very illusory
reflexes of thought, a more interesting
side of the life we have left behind.
This rustic life, scarce refined into
simplicity, ever invites a new point of
view: many an essay on social reform
is conceived in the woods.
What pleasure can equal that of
paddling along streams and lakes
amid forests unknown to canoe or
hunter, or woodsman ; of disturbing a
repose so ancient, so stupendous!
The giant awakes from his mighty
sleep: by countless indications he ex-
presses it. His thousand sentinels
tremble and quiver and lisp with their
myriad lips the message of your prof-
anation ; his attendant beasts draw
back deeper into his shaggy folds ; his
birds both great and small — the em-
blem of his freedom and his choir by
night and day — jar with discordant
notes of surprise and mistrust. The
giant never more may sleep; unending
wakefulness must end in decrepitude
at last, and no forest voice in all its
purity be heard.
And those long days of paddling
under alternating shade of passing
cloud or friendly slope, or fully ex-
posed to wind and sun; drawing
slowly up to points whose sen-
tinel trees beckon to you for miles,
only to pass you on to the next,
far descried in the distance ; slipping
over shallows, past picturesque groups
of cattle massed on sloping plaques of
green, and trees ramparted by cloud
on blue ; rousing great cranes which
sail deridingly near you and away
across the intervening wood to settle
among the reeds of the stream's next
bend (often enough indicating your
general direction) — days of joyous ex-
pansive life, of myriad impressions of
fancy, colour, shape !
Noon brings satiety of exertion for
the time; hunger, importunate, de-
mands a stop. This is the lazy inter-
val of the canoeing day-^it is the
seductive Lotus-land of ease, of toil
forgotten because much has been ac-
complished, and time or end presses
not; of sweet languor so soft that sleep
would deaden it into forgetfulness, but
which the day-dream heightens into
phantasy of whimsical, toying, far-
faring thought. Will those summer
flies, with forward-steady droning
flight, never move on ? Poised there,
wings humming into haze, moving
neither forward nor backward — are
they lost souls straining . ever thus
on some bootless quest ? Alas, no !
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DAFFODILS
127
One moves, the spell is broken.
The tired, heated wing's cease throb-
bing ; down, down it dropSj hope-
less, lost — still down and down — till
with a hissing switch of a foot and a
wiog in your nostril it soars again to
the Empyrean. Lying here, on this
aeck of land, gazing down the lake
into the distance we have come, and
forward into the unaccomplished dis-
tance— if it could be always noon, and
the sun always shine, bees hum, birds
thrill, fish jump; with canoe glistening
in the sun and imaged in the water
— sign of isolation and a link with past
and future — an age would scarce suf-
fice for our resting here — why ever
depart ?
But rich as is noon in dreamy rest,
evening and night have a rarer sug-
gestive power of gorgeous, or it may
be sombre colour, of dumb intensity of
mood. Cooled and refreshed by an
evening breeze we paddle on and on,
through water glowing like heaped-up
diverse gems, into the ardent west.
The hither side of hills take on a sable
tinge, their crown of daffodil succeeds
to sky of sapphire, star-pierced, the
waters deepen to inky black and the
hills to lapis-lazuli : and night holds
universal sway. It is as though the
great Master-dramatist, whose puppets
we are, were using us as dummy
pieces in this scene of his composition.
For it reminds us strangely of some
play-scene of marvellous creation and
league-wide range: Dim knolls and
tree-clumps stand like towers, square-
buttressed, deserted, shadowy with
age and lichen and decay. It is the
enchantress Night at work, as she has
been since ever the world began, en-
riching the imagination with intima-
tions of an alien time chaotic or pacific,
or presenting to man ^'gigantesques "
of his handiwork.
All nature's children of the day are
asleep. We lie down to rest, the air
heavy with the fresh odour of pines
and rustling with undefined night
voices whose undertone is the rhythmic
beat of waves. The senses grow more
acute, the ear is flooded with pulsa-
tions unperceived before ; with at last
a sense of perfect peace, the overflow,
and of an encompassing harmony, and
— we are in oblivion.
DAFFODILS
BY HERBERT L. BREWSTER
lUHAT matter that the evening air is crispy yet, and chill,
^^ What matter that the rim of snow still lies athwart the hill.
There are cadences of promise in the free-song of the rill;
And the daffodils are blooming in the lane.
The germs of balm and blessing that were sleeping 'neath the snow
Are coming forth in triumph where the swift March breezes go,
And hearts that love the sunny skies are bounding now to know
That the daffodils are blooming in the lane.
We think of hazy hill-tops in a a maze of summer light.
And dream of violets by the stream, and pearly dews of night;
Since Spring's caress has broken down the thrall of Winter's might.
And the daffodils are blooming in the lane.
0^! the Northern ways are weary, and the Northern nights are long.
When the world is wrapped in whiteness, and the woods have lost their song ;
*^ut the heart-beats of a fairer time are pulsing full and strong
When the daffodils are blooming in the lane.
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/(^Afd- — 37: R7-
rieciNQA 2 J T
£^i»J.AAiADM^ 'Ar iV
MAP OF THE DISTRICT BURNED — ESPLANADE ST. IS PRACTICALLY THE WATERFRONT — YORK,
BAY AND YONGE STS. RUN NORTH. THE WHITE SPOT IN CENTRE BLACK BLOCK
ABOVE WELLINGTON ST. SHOWS WHERE THE FIRE STARTED
TORONTO'S GREAT FIRE
By NORMAN PATTERSON
ORONTO has had several
large fires during the sev-
enty years of her civic
history, but the conflagra-
tion which occurred on the
night of April 19th was the largest
and most disastrous. The loss will
amount to about fourteen millions of
dollars, of which eight millions must
be borne by forty insurance companies
and six millions by the three hundred
and fifty business Arms involved. The
total premiums collected by fire insur-
ance companies doing business in
Canada last year was about eleven
million dollars, so that this fire makes
it quite clear that the insurance busi-
ness of 1904 will show a large deficit.
The largest annual loss total ever paid
out in this country was in 1877, when it
amounted to eight and a half millions
of dollars. The loss in this ToroBto
fire will alone exceed the losses of that
record Canadian year. It is only by a
full realization of the force of such a
comparison, that one may get a correct
and reasonable idea of the magnitude
of this great disaster.
By recalling previous Canadian fires,
it is possible to further emphasize this
view-point. On June 20th, 1877, the
great fire in St. John, N.B., destroyed
128
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TORONTO'S GREAT FIRE
129
1612 dwelling houses and 615 business
places, and made the Bre losses of
that year exceptional. The next great-
est loss was in 1900, the year of the
Ottawa-Hull fire, when the total losses
paid the companies for the year were
^7»774>ooo. The insurance losses paid
in each of these two great fires will,
added together, no more than equal
the losses to be paid now in Toronto.
The St. John fire began at half- past
two in the afternoon in a boiler-shop
in the suburb of Portland. Close by
there was an extensive rookery of old
wooden buildings and soon an exten-
sive conflagration had been developed.
A violent north-west wind was blowing.
The fire swept down upon the doomed
city and in a few hours the entire busi-
ness portion had been reduced to a
mass of ruins, as well as the better
class of dwelling-houses to the south
and south-east. Public buildings,
houses of business, hotels, printing
offices, churches and theatres were
involved in a common ruin with the
residences of the middle-class and the
humbler dwellings of the workingman.
Thirteen thousand people were home-
less that night in St. John, and
$27,000,000 of property was represent-
ed by a vast mass of ashes, charred
embers, and a dreary waste of ruins.
The Toronto fire cannot be compared
A UNITED STATES SILVER DOLLAR AND A CANA-
DIAN QUARTER — THE ONLY OBJECT WHICH
CAME OUT OF BUNTIN, RBID & CO.'S VAULT.
BOOKS, TIN BOXES, ETC., WERE TOTALLY
CONSUMED.
with that calamity for monetary loss
or individual suffering.
It was about half-past ten in the
morning of April 26th, 1900, that a
lamp was upset in a humble dwelling
in the City of Hull, and the great fire
started. As in St. John, a strong gale
was blowing, but from the north-east.
By twelve o'clock, the fire had swept
over^ great area of small dwellings in
Hull and the Eddy factories were
threatened on that side of the river,
while the lumber yards on the Ottawa
side were in danger. When it was all
THE FIRE AS IT APPEARED AT ONE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING— FROM YORK ST. BRIDGE, LOOKING
EAST. — PHOTO BY D. J. HOWELL
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
SOME OF THE EIGHTY BUILDINGS DESTROYED — FRONT ST., NORTH SIDE
over, there was a blazed path across
both cities five miles long and a mile
wide, from the public buildings of Hull
across the industrial portions of both
cities, and through a fine residential
portion of the city of Ottawa, ending
only at the bluff which divides the
lower town from the upper town. Fif-
teen thousand people were homeless
and fifteen million dollars' worth of
property was destroyed. The Toronto
fire cannot compete with that confla-
gration for individual suffering, al-
though it equals it in monetary loss.
In St. John not one-fifth of the loss
was covered by insurance; in Ottawa
not much more than one- fourth; in
Toronto fully two- thirds of the de-
struction will be made up by the insur-
ance companies. In St. John, thirteen
thousand people and in Ottawa fifteen
thousand were homeless; in Toronto,
no homes were destroyed. These two
notable differences explain why there
has been no necessity for public sub-
scription nor outside assistance for the
fire-sufferers in Toronto. The losers
were business men who are well able to
look after themselves, to rebuild the
solid warehouses and large factories
which were destroyed. Here and there
is a firm who may find the balance be-
tween assets and liabilities swept away
in the loss, and its members will, of
necessity, begin their business lives
over again. Here and there, a firm
will find themselves without any re-
cords of their business, for many vaults
and safes proved unequal to the fierce
heat, and they will be so hampered by
the loss that they cannot find heart to
start in once more. There will be a few
individuals whose insurance was not
what it should have been, and they will
be forced to compromise with their
creditors and seek new vocations. The
majority of the sufferers will be enabled
to meet the disaster bravely, and to re-
establish themselves on the old or on
new sites. There has been mental
suffering, sorrow, and anguish, but it
is not the kind of sorrow that lasts, nor
the anguish which keeps men long dis-
mayed.
The district burned was the pride of
the city, and some of the buildings
were built since the latest wave of
prosperity swept over the country.
The beautiful buildings of Brown Broth-
ers, The Copp, Clark Co., Dignum
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TORONTO'S GREAT FIRE
131
BAY STREET BEFORE THE FIRE^THE CITY HALL IN THE DISTANCE
& Monypenny, TheGillett Co., West-
wood, Currie, and others, were recent
structures of the modern type. None
of the buildings were very old. Most
of them were brick, many of them with
handsome stone facing. The corners
BAY STREET AFTER THE FIRE. — PHOTO BY GOOCH
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132
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
of Bay and Wellington and of Bay and
Front Streets were the centres of the
wholesale district, and more wealth
was gathered upon the few blocks de-
stroyed than on any other blocks in the
city where there are not public build-
ings. The total number of buildings
burned was about eighty.
The burned district is bounded on
CORNER OF BAY AND WELLINGTON STS. — WATER TOWER AT WORK
the south by the Bay, on the west by
Lome Street, on the east by Yonge
Street and on the north by Melinda.
All the buildings in that district did not
become a mass of crumbling walls and
twisted girders, but most of them did.
A police constable had just received the
passbook from the man he was reliev-
ing at the corner of Bay and Welling-
ton Streets at eight o'clock when he
saw flames shooting up the elevator
shaft of the Currie building. He ran
to Front Street and turned in an
alarm. A citizen who had seen it
about the same time ran to King
Street and did the same. The police-
man did not run fast enough, and he
missed fame by a few seconds. The
citizen won. Yet it was a sad night
for both policemen and citizens.
The fire should
have been confined
to the Currie build-
ing, but the water
pressure was low
and the buildmg
across the lane had
unprotected win-
dows. Besides, the
general who is sup-
posed to direct the
Toronto firemen so
far forgot himself
as to do some scout-
ing which should
have been done by a
ranker; the result
was that he lost his
way in one of the
buildings, and slid
down a waterpi pe to
safety and a broken
leg. The army that
fought the fire that
night, fought it
without its gener-
al, although per-
haps the subordin-
ates were just as
good men. Find-
ing itself unimped-
ed by the brigade,
the fire leaped into
the adjoining build-
ing to the east
and then into the next. By this time
it looked as if it would be a dang-
erous fire. Some people began to
prophesy that it would jump across
Wellington Street and eat up some of
the buildings on the south side. It
did and Brown Bros.' building was
soon ablaze. Other buildings around
the original seat of fire caught, and in
a short time the conflagration was be-
yond control. Fanned by a fierce
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TORONTO'S GREAT FIRE
133
■BROCK S KOLPH. SMITH & CO. BROWN BROS.
SOUTH SIDE OF WELLINGTON STREET, WEST OF BAY
north-west wind,
the flames raced
south and east.
They jumped from
roof-top to roof-
top. They reached
from window to
window across 66-
foot streets. It
went up Bay a bit
and down Bay
Street a consider-
able distance — to
the railway tracks
in fact. Before all
the buildings on
Wellington Street
and Bay had
caught, the blaze
was eating up mag-
nificent warehous-
es on both sides of
Front Street, di-
rectly south of
where the fire start-
ed. It was beyond
control, and only
dynamite liberally
THE MINERVA BUILDING WHICH BARRED THE PROGRESS OF THE FIRE
ON THE NORTH SIDE OF FRONT STREET, NEAR YONGE
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
THE FIRE SWEPT UP BAY ST. TO SOME LOW BUILDINGS NEXT TO THE TORONTO ENGRAVING CO.
THESE LOW BUILDINGS ENABLED THE FIREMEN TO STOP THE NORTH-
WARD PROGRESS AT THIS POINT
used could have stayed its advance
southward. The Mayor telephoned to
surrounding cities, even to Buffalo,
and soon assistance was on its way.
The fire had been raging five hours
when the Hamilton and Buffalo men
arrived, but they were of great assist-
ance for the home brigade were tiring
in their valorous if discouraging work.
In the meantime the retreat of the
fire northward had been checked at
the Telegram and Toronto Engraving
Co. buildings on Bay Street. Its
progress westward was never serious
because a favourable wind and open
spaces saved the buildings on Welling-
ton Street and the Queen's Hotel on
Front Street. It had gone south as
far as it could go — to the railway
tracks and the Bay. The battle-ground
lay to the east. From one o'clock
until four the surging crowds of spec-
tators speculated as to where the east-
ward limit would be. Would it be
Yonge Street or the Market ? Good
buildings, water curtains and brave
firemen checked it on Wellington Street
before it had got half way from Bay to
Yonge. On Front Street they were less
successful. On the north side it swept
along from building to building, roof
to roof, window to window, cornice to
cornice, sign to sign, until the huge
Minerva Mfg. Co. building was reach-
ed. On the south side it licked up a
score of closely-built warehouses until
it reached the little strip of land which
enables the Customs and Examining
Warehouse to stand in their solitary
grandeur. Here the fight was made,
and the Minerva building and the Cus-
toms House mark the last trench of the
great battle. Apparently satisfied with
its playful frolic, the fire- fiend sat down
upon the great area he had conquered
and silently, sullenly, yet all unyield-
ingly, lulled himself to sleep. As the
early morning broke, the weary fire-
men and the threatened merchants
breathed sighs of relief, while the other
citizens discussed and mourned the
destruction which had come to the
Queen City. A few heart-broken, dis-
couraged men went home to talk over
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TORONTO'S GREAT FIRE
'35
DYNAMITING THE DANGEROUS WALLS AFTER THE FIRE-PHOTO TAKEN AT INSTANT OF
THE EXPLOSION
their losses, only to return in a few
hours with renewed courage to seek
new offices, give orders for new ma-
chinery and to plan the rebuilding
which will not be completed for, at
least, two years.
The conflagration presents the same
lessons that go unheeded by the pub-
lic year after year — the lessons of
faulty construction by the individual
owner who builds his house upon the
sand, of municipal neglect, of post-
poned precaution. To the lack of
water pressure and an unorganized fire
brigade may be assigned the spreadi ng of
the flames, but unprotected openings
opposing each other, well-holes, wood-
en cornices, skylights, narrow lanes,
overhead wires, all played their part
in aiding the destruction. The man-
ner in which Brock's and Kilgour*s
sprinklered buildings resisted the furi-
ous heat was strong evidence of the
value of these equipments; two build-
ings in such a seething mass were of
little avail, but they gave a breathing
spell for the flghters, and one of them
stopped the progress east on Welling-
ton. The mercantile section of a
great city, containing its millions of
money value, should be constructed
of flre-resisting materials only, and
each building should be equipped with
an approved automatic extinguishing
apparatus.
Some valuable discussion has taken
place since the Are concerning the flre-
fighting system of Toronto. The pres-
sure of the water in the mains in the
burned district varies from 60 to 90
pounds to the square inch. In Buffalo,
in the similar district it is 150 pounds;
this is maintained by a special main,
running up Washington Street, the
water for which is pumped by a fire-
tug carrying strong pumping engines.
There is nothing of this kind in To-
ronto, or in any other Canadian city.
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THE SCENE ALONG THE ESPLANADE
INCIDENTS AT A GREAT FIRE
WITH DRAWINGS AND SNAP-SHOTS BY THE AUTHOR
By FERGUS KYLE
ERTAINLY in the minds of
the staring thousands who
drifted about from one
view-point to another, and
feasted their eyes upon the
sights of that wild night in Toronto,
no impression, from amongst all that
vivid spectacle, will remain deeper
than that ever-recurring glimpse of an
atom of a man walking about there in
the midst of unquenchable fury. Watch-
ing the fire from the side was like stand-
ing beside a river in flood, so straight
and swift swept the current of flame.
There were won-
derful pictures on
every side, inspir-
ing sights unnum-
bered; but always,
as the onlooker
crowded in to a
new loophole of
vision, his gaze
found the same
focus.
From a distance,
where the mass of
humanity was held
in check across
the roadway, one
looked away
through an aven-
OLD CRONIES
ue of brick and stone fronts, one
side brilliantly lighted, the other ob-
scure in a dull gray ; past the poles
and sign boards standing out in black
silhouette or glinting from their golden
lettering; across the bare wet pave-
ment where the hose ran in serpentine
curves from the sputtering hydrant
near by ; and there, a block away,
under the furious flash that swept from
a hundred yards back straight over
his head, was the man in the rubber
clothing whom the people along the
rope pay to look after these things for
them, doing his
regular work in
the midst of a
huge furnace. Not
to stand on the
outside with a
long^poker and
rake the coals over
so as to dissipate
their strength; his
business was to
don a broad hel-
met and clumsy
clothing, and to
walk with heavy
foot-gear right in
amongthe embers;
to choose from
136
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INCIDENTS AT A GREAT FIRE
137
among the huge
chunks of fuel one
small piece upon
which it seemed his
work would be not
entirely wasted, and
to stay there with
his miniature axes
and thread of hose
until the glowing
mass crumbled and
settled down upon
the spot.
The people on the
ropes see him away
off there, one mo-
ment shut in by
heavy, suffocating
smoke; the next
clear cut in a sud-
den glare, as the
keen wind sweeps
round a corner,
bearing with it
pieces of burning
wood, lengths of tin
roofing from the
cornices above, and
spray that makes
the helmet shine
like polished metal.
They hear the roar
and crackle and the
curious unexplain-
able sounds, and
feel the heat even at
that distance, and
some of them won-
der whether the fire-
man thinks of his
babies at home as
he does his day's
work there — or if
he tries not to think
of them. There was
widely expressed
thankfulness that
no lives had been
wasted in that dis-
heartening sweep of
fire.
■
Half way down
Bay street, below
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138
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Wellington, when the fire was raging
through the block behind them, send-
ing showers of sparks and ashes down
into the street, stood a couple of old
cronies that have been through many
a like experience — the team of horses
belonging to the old ** Boustead" fire
engine. It was an off moment for
them; and until their driver would
come running to get them to move the
engine from under some dangerous
wall, or to hustle it around'into a more
advantageous position in front of the
fire, they stood there alone in the
smoky half-light without the slightest
nervousness. Nothing of the fiery
steed about them, barring their occu-
pation; just two heavy, sensible old
customers with only an occasional
intelligent turn of the head, the
distinguishing look of the fire horse, to
tell that they understood or cared any-
thing at all about it. Had there been an
animal-study man among the two or
three individuals who picked their way
past there among the puddles and
dangling wires, he would have heard
the off-horse mutter, after a scrutiny
of the surroundings over his mate's
shoulder, ** Billy, me boy, this is going
to be an all-night job. What do you
say if we take a nap while we have the
chance ?"
■
There were other equines engaged
in tiresome work that night ; old gen-
eral-purpose day labourers that could
ill afford the loss of a night's rest.
Some of the bank clerks, who at one
stage of the fire w^ere looking for a
waggon to move some valuables, tell of
a couple of boys, the son of an ex-
pressman and a **pardner," who had
*' swiped out " the horse unbeknownst
to the **old man," and at three-thirty
in the morning had gathered together
the sum of thirty-six dollars, most of
it at the expense of the four-footed
bread-winner, whom they urged to the
limit of his public-spirited endurance.
■
His Majesty's Royal Mails are put
to such curious uses at times, and the
loyal servants of His Majesty and the
people, the letter-handlers, are so
accustomed tostraighteningout tangles
and seeing that everything posted goes,
that it was not astonishing, perhaps,
or even amusing, to find the postman
whose route lay in the burned district
conscientiously peering into the box at
the corner of Bay and Front streets on
the second morning after the wreck,
hoping like a patriot that no one had
been absent-minded beggar enough
(that was not exactly the expression
he used) to put anything in there.
■
The activities of the picturesque
telegraph linemen were the subject of
much admiring comment on the two
days following the big event. While
the ruins were still smoking these fel-
lows were heaving the newly-shaved
poles up with their long pikes, drop-
ping them into the holes from which
the old roots of ruined timber had been
expeditiously extracted.
■
There was an urgent call for experts
to open the safes and vaults, and the
local company, as well as those from
elsewhere, had men at work as soon as
the temperature of the bricks would
permit. These **safe-crackers," asthe
irreverent workmen called them, were
from among the most skilful of those
engaged in lock-making, and where
one of them was engaged he was al-
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INCIDENTS AT A GREA T FIRE
139
THE LINEMEN AT WORK
ways sure of an audience. ** Let us
know when you get to the stuff, old
man; we'll keep an eye on the cops,"
and other pleasantries were fired at him.
When the oven was opened, and, as
in most cases, the batch was found to
be not overdone, the waiting clerks
busied themselves with passing out the
books and papers, knocking and blow-
ing the dust from them, at the same
time sadly damaging their patent
leathers in the mess underfoot, and
keeping one eye open for additional
contributions to the scrap heap from
the crumbling projections overhead.
With the fall of the wall
next to the Customs House
buildings, the destroying
passion of the fire was with-
stood. The stone walls and
their austere isolation were
an invulnerable combin-
ation, and in the doubtful
places of proximity the or-
dinary resources of the pro-
tective system were a suffi-
cient defence.
Here was a scene that
included about all there is to
be seen at a fire. There
was the all - pervading
glare, there were fierce
tongues of flame, clouds of smoke
and flying embers, the roar and
crackle, the hum of the engines,
bustling fire-fighters splashing about,
in and out; tottering walls, a flight for
life, and — the saving of the adjoining
property. Inside that big warehouse
the fire was making a thorough
job of it, as could be plainly seen
through the two windows, the only
light spots in that immense expanse of
black wall. At its foot, in the jog of
the lane, three or four firemen were
directing the force of a branch against
susceptible portions of the rear wing
of the Receiving House, whilst every
minute or so a figure emerged from or
disappeared around the bend of that
dark tunnel, on business for the men
engaged upon the roof or in the inter-
ior of the building upon which this
hose was playing. It became a cer-
tainty that something must happen
there soon. Everything behind the
wall must have been eaten out long
ago. There was a cry as a large part
of the end fell down into the passage,
and the men with the hose stumbled
back a pace or two ; but, as the freed
flames reached across again, they turn-
ed their stream upward once more and
stayed there. The people watched;
they wondered if a wall fell inward or
outward. Then the policeman who
had undertaken to guard those fellows*
lives uttered his strong cry. The
OPENING THE VAULTS
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140
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
remaining end bricks had clattered
out ; with them slid down some heavy
crosspiece, the farther end first, burn-
ing fiercely with the additional draught,
and the big flat wall was drawing out
from its position, bulging a little and
gathering speed. The hose was
writhing on the ground as the men
sped from the spot. There was a
heavy sound like the launching of a
big vessel and the belching wave was
exactly similar ; with this difference,
that it was of a sickly orange colour,
and the shadowy forms of four men
were visible before it overtook them ;
one helmeted fig^ure, with hands out-
stretched sinking to his knees, barely
outside the line of the fearsome
shadow. When the mist of powdered
brick cleared and they ran in, a dozen
of them, he was slowly rising with a
limping^ leg.
It was the finish. An hour after-
ward the dying flame paled before the
broader light of the incoming' day.
When thi^ sun, the source of all light
and heat, withdrew the evening before^
like the villain in the play, folding its
mantle and softly closing the door,
the thing was done. Next morning it
sauntered up from the other direction^
passed around the ruins and looked at
them from every side, with the most
innocent expression on its face you
ever saw ; It even looked over the
shoulders of the camera irrepressibles,
and helped them make pictures of the
scene. Yet no one blames Old Sol,
If this was one of his practical jokes
it was going a little too far, and ** the
lessons of the ^rz *' will take steps to
guard against other vagaries.
THE FIGHT FOR THE CUSTOMS RECEIVING HOUSE
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jambs' coach (1829), THE FIRST REALLY PRACTICABLE STEAM CARRIAGE BUILT
THE AUTOMOBILE OF 1904
By T. A. RUSSELL
VOLUTION, not revolution,
may be said to be the fea-
ture of the progress of the
automobile industry in 1904.
The student of the automo-
bile finds the carriage of 1904 superior
in almost every detail to its predeces-
sor of the last two or three years, al-
though few new
principles of con-
struction have been
applied. This sea-
son's vehicle sur-
passes its ances-
tors, not by some
new invention ap-
plied, but by the ap-
plication of the same
principles along the
lines which the ex-
perience of manu-
facturers, inventors
and operators have
found to be most
satisfactory. The
result is a greater
uniformity of type
in all vehicles, both
in appearance and
in mechanical con-
struction. There are
fewer freaks, and
fewer carriages
that are absolutely poor than ever be-
fore.
TYPES
Some three years ago the field
seemed to be fairly equally divided be-
tween the steam, the gasoline and
the electric carriages. Some confusion
may arise in the minds of the general
A TYPE OF TOURING CAR FITTED WITH A 24 H. P., 4 CYLINDER MOTOR
141
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142
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
public as to the disiinctioti
between the steam and the
gasoline. In the former,
gasoline is practically al-
ways used, but it is used as
a fuel to generate iiteam,
from which the power is ap-
plied by the ordinary me-
thods adopted in steam en-
gines generally. In the gas-
oline type, gasoline is used,
by being mixed with air and
exploded in an engine ; its
energy being thus applied
direct. With the exception
of one or two types of car-
riage, the steam automobile
has not held its own, and
has given way to the gas-
oline, which has at the pres-
ent time by far the largest
sale, although the electric
carriage is a feature of the automobile
market, and still remains easily the
ideal carriage for city use.
GASOLINE MACHINES
Turning then to the gasoline auto-
mobile. Many marked improvements
have been made in
the machines ui ihi.s
season. In :
SHOWING HOW
THE SHAFT DRIVE
AND REAR AXLE
ARE WORKED
TOGETHER
TYPE OF A RUNABOUT CAR FITTED WITH A DOUBLE
CYLINDER ENGINE
eral way, it may be said that
most of the motors will
** Mote," and that no long-
er will the comic papers find
material for their columns
in the eccentricities of these
machines. They are much
more reliable. Parts which
were found to be too light
for the heavy strain of road
usage have been strengthen-
ed, and the possibility ot
vexatious delays and break-
downs removed. In most
cases the power of the en-
gine has been increased, so
that the dismounting of pas-
sengers on a steep or sandy
hill is no longer a necessity.
But, perhaps, most marked
of all are the improvements
which have been brought
about in the reduction of noise, and the
elimination of the vibration, which was
a feature of the first carriages. The
enthusiastic automobilist, who deserts
his business to ride his machine, or to
haunt the repair shops and showrooms
of the automobile dealers, perhaps
cares little whether
his machine makes
as much noise as a
locomotive, or
shakes and rattles
as viciously as it
chooses, so long as
it has power to pass
all others on the
road ; but with the
general outside
public and the peo-
ple of refinement
and taste, the case
is different. They
were not interested
in a noisy carriage
which frightened all
horseflesh from the
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THE A UTOMOBILE OF 190^
143
road, nor in a vehicle which shook with
all the vibration of the moving mechan-
ism beneath ; and so the designers and
makers for 1904 have sought to pro-
duce a carriage in which noise as far
as possible is eliminated, and from
which all possible vibration of machin-
ery is removed. Those who view the
up-to-date models for 1904, will see
how well in many cases this has been
accomplished.
bile of the runabout class had what is
known as a single-cylinder engine,
that is one chamber into which the
mixture of air and gasoline was drawn
to be compressed by the piston rod,
and exploded. This year, in the me-
dium-priced carriages, there is a mark-
ed tendency to use two-cylinder en-
gines; that is two chambers similar to
the one described above, situated op-
posite one another, the result bein^
A FOUR-CYLINDER ENGINE FOR AN AUTOMOBILE — 24 HORSE POWER
THE ENGINE
To show how these features have
been brought about requires a review
of the vital points of the automobile.
The engine is essentially the heart of
the machine. In it great improve-
ments have been made; where possible
weight has been reduced by machining
down all unnecessary metal, and in
the higher grade machines by the substi-
tution of aluminum castings for iron.
The bearings of the main shafts and
the pistons have been increased and
thereby strengthened. The design of
the engine has been to a very consid-
erable extent altered and improved.
A year ago, practically every automo-
that when an explosion is taking place
in one chamber, the foul gases are be-
ing driven out of the other, and vice
versa. In this way it is unnecessary
to have such a big, heavy explosion to
obtain the same power; and, conse-
quently, the two-cylinder machines ob-
tain greater power, with a very mater-
ial reduction of both noise and vibra-
tion.
The engines above described are the
type now used in the runabout classes
of automobiles. Until this year they
were also used in the touring cars, and
larger vehicles as well, but the New
York Show, in January last, showed
that material advance had been made
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
THE SLIDE GEAR TRANSMISSION
For increasing- or decreasing the speed of an automobile.
The short shaft is driven by the engine and the longer shaft is
connected with the wheels. When the large wheel on the long
shaft is meshed with the small wheel on the other shaft, the slow
or ** hill-climbing" speed results; when either of the other two
gears are meshed, the speed is increased.
in these cars to bring them in conform-
ity with the styles and structure which
had been worked out of the French
models. Instead of one or two-cylin-
EXAMPLE OF A DOUBLE-OPPOSED CYLINDER GASOLINE ENGINE
The power is increased, and the vibration off-set by this method
der engines being
situated under the
body, the larger
class are mostly
equipped with three
or four vertical cyl-
inders situated in
the front of the car-
riage. This is a
practical necessity
in a large touring
car, as the parts re-
quire attention,
which it is hardly
possible to give
them, if the operator
has to get under the
machine or remove
the passengers from
the car in order to
look over his en-
gine. The location
of these engines in
front has been a
marked improve-
ment. The adop-
tion of the three or
four-cylinder en-
gines has rendered possible wide vari-
ations of speed, and, at the same time,
material reduction of noise and vibra-
tion. Hence the leading touring car
models on the Am-
erican market this
year are represen-
tative of the very
highest type of au-
tomobile construc-
tion.
THE TRANSMISSION
By the transmis-
sion is meant the
mechanism, of what-
ever description it
may be, which trans-
mits the power
from the engine to
the rear axle for
driving the carriage.
In this transmission
must be provided
attachments for
changing the speed,
so that at the one
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THE A UTOMOBILE OF 190^
^M
time in climbing a hill, the engine will
be allowed to run at its full speed,
but the gears be so reduced that the
wheels will be moving somewhat slow-
ly and the maximum of power applied.
In the same way arrangements have to
be made for higher speed under
favourable conditions, and for
reverse or backing up as well.
The runabout carriages are
mostly equipped with what is
known as a planetary system
of transmission, and having
generally two speeds forward
and one for reverse. The tour-
ing cars are usually equipped
with a sliding gear transmis-
sion, usually with a range of
three speeds forward and one
reverse. Its general plan is
seen in the illustrations. Both '
of these systems of transmis-
sion for the season of 1904
show improvement in the way
of strengthening the bearings,
improving the lubrication, and
reducing the noise.
The control of the machines
has been improved, most of
them adopting the wheel steer
device for steering, which gives
the maximum power to the op-
erator with the minimum of
eflfort. Levers have been sim-
plified, so that a yery few min-
utes' instruction will enable the
ordinary person to operate his
own carriage.
The speed of the vehicles is
controlled in three ways. First,
by the transmission gear above
described; second, by the throt-
tle which regulates the amount
of air and gasoline admitted to
the combustion chamber; and
third, by the timing device
which regulates the rapidity of
the explosion. All these are
usually conveniently situated
on or near the steering wheel.
THE LUBRICATION
Lubrication is one of the important
features of an automobile. Lack of oil
will not only cause temporary heating.
and, consequently, stoppage of the
machine, but very often serious dam-
age to it. Formerly it was left tothe
operator to turn, on the oil when he
started his machine. Frequently he
forgot to do so, with the consequent
FROM "SELF-PROPELLED VEHICLES" BY
J. E. HOMANS 1908
. THE CYCLE OF A FOUR CYCLE GAS BNGINB
Note the three valves, one letting in gas, one air,
and the third releasing the exhaust. The position of
these valves varies in each part of the revolution. The
first outward stroke of the piston draws in gas and air.
The back stroke compresses it. It is then exploded
and the second outward stroke follows. The second
back stroke drives out the resulting gases.
result of over-heating and damage.
Most of the improved 1904 models
have automatic oilers, which start the
oiling when the machine starts, and
stop when the machine stops, thus
eliminating trouble in this direction.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Frequently sight feed oilers are used
in conjunction with the automatic at-
tachment, so that the operator can see
if anything- is prevjsnting the proper
lubrication of the parts.
COOLING
The constant explosion of air and
gasoline in the engine tends to create
a heat which would prevent the further
running of the machine if some means
were not provided for cooling the
engine. The result is that this has now
been adequately provided for by cover-
ing the engine with a water jacket,
which is connected by pipes with a
radiator to the front of the carriage
and with a pump operated by the
engine, so that the moment the engine
and the vehicle starts, hot water sur-
rounding the engine is pumped through
the pipes into the radiator in front of
the carriage, where it is cooled by the
air passing through, and again returns
to the engine, and so is kept in con-
stant circulation, cooling the engine as
desired.
TIRES
All these improvements relate to the
mechanical features of the carriage.
Other improvements, which commend
themselves to the operators, have been
accomplished. Probably the most im-
portant is in the tires.
The pneumatic tire had never been
applied to vehicles other than the
bicycle, and its extension to the auto-
mobile was for many years the cause
of trouble on account of its previous
extreme lightness of construction. The
tires have been so improved now that
practically no more trouble should be
given by an automobile tire than by a
bicycle tire.
GENERAL STYLE
The body of the automobile has
been improved both in appearance and
in comfort. In appearance it has
got away from the horseless look, and
now stands as a type of its own as an
automobile and not a horseless car-
riage. The seats have been made
roomier, the upholstery improved, can-
opy tops and other devices for protec-
tion from the weather added, so that
the comfort of the passenger is catered
to in every detail.
The gasoline automobile is not yet
perfect any more than the bicycle or
the top buggy, or any other article of
human contrivance is perfect, but this
season sees it far beyond the ex-
perimental stage, sees it placed on
a plane of reliability and excellence,
where it will commend itself to that
large public which requires a safe
and speedy means of transportation,
both for pleasure and for business
purposes.
THE ELECTRIC CARRIAGE
The electric carriage has been
materially improved for 1904. Some
remarks which apply to the design of
the body, strengthening of the running
gear, improvement of the tires, etc.,
of the gasoline carriage, apply to the
electric.
An electric carriage, outside of an
ordinary vehicle, contains practical-
ly two elements, a storage bat-
tery, and, a motor transforming the
energy of the battery into motion,
which is in turn transmitted to the
rear axle of the carriage. In other
words, an electric carriage is an or-
dinary buggy with a storage battery,
and an electric motor added.
The storage battery shows substan-
tial improvement this year. It is made
up of a number of cells from twenty to
forty in number, depending on the
style of carriage. Each cell is com-
posed of a hard rubber jar, in which
are placed a number of positive and
negative plates, separated from each
other by either wood or rubber separ-
ators, the spaces being filled with a
liquid known as ** Electrolyte.'* The
positive plates for these cells are con-
nected together with the negative of
the other cells, and the whole com-
plete connected with the motor.
The battery upon which Mr. Edison
has been working departs from the
present type of construction entirely.
The jars, instead of being of hard rub-
ber, are of iron and nickel. The plates
instead of being formed of lead and lead
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SOl^G OF TOIL 147
oxides, of iron and nickel. The-elec- age battery are such as to justify a
trolyte used, instead of being of an largely increased sale of electric car-
acid solution, is an alkali. Great ad- riages for city use. They are absolute-
vantages are claimed for this battery ly noiseless in running, free from vi-
in the way of durability and increased bration, and are so simple in operation
mileage. At present its objections are that a child can drive them. With a
the low voltage of the cells requiring radius of 35 or 40 miles, they are the
50 per cent, more cells than a lead bat- ideal city carriage.
tery, consequently more room in a The changes which have been out-
carriage, and, secondly, the higher lined are the kind of changes which
cost. Some of these difficulties may will give confidence to an intending
be overcome in another season, but for purchaser. They are not new experi-
this year the Edison battery is not a ments to get at different results, but
commercial proposition in Canada, at are improvements on methods and ap-
least. Meantime, however, the im- pliances well tested out, and should
provements in the present type of stor- therefore be reliable in the extreme.
SONG OF TOIL
BY WILLIAM J. FISCHER
r\ LISTEN to the bustle and the rustle in the street!
^^ List to the click and clatter of ambitious, hurried feett
O hear the steady voices
While fresh young life rejoices
In the raging, battle heat!
O how I love the gladness and the madness of the crowd,
That blinding, winding, finding goes a-hunting, where the loud
Incessant, rhythmic laughter
Fills bright hearts with the after
Peace, so free and love-endowed!
How like a mighty ocean is the motion of the tide
Of human beings, gaily, daily passing down the wide
Paths of hopes undiscovered.
Where sickly Pain oft hovered,
And where sorrow knelt and sighed!
O heart of mine! the rattle and the battle in the street
Fills thee with courage, proudly — loudly, while thy forces beat
Against its casement dreary!
Ah! life it is not weary
When the toil is glad and sweet!
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A HISTORY IN TWELVE
INSTALMENTS ^ ^ ^
CHAPTER VI.— DIFFICULTIES IN FORMING A MINISTRY— PITT SUCCEEDS
TO POWER— FRENCH ATTACK REPULSED ON LAKE GEORGE— ANOTHER
BRITISH FORCE SAILS— LOUDON'S FUTILE EXPEDITION AGAINST LOUIS-
BOURG— THE FRENCH CAPTURE FORT WILLIAM HENRY— THE MASSACRE
BY THE INDIANS— 1756-1757.
DURING the past autumn the dead
weight of Newcastle's blighting
hand had been lifted from British
policy. His very friends could no
longer be either bribed or flattered in-
to his service, so with a groan of an-
guish like that of a miser parting with
his hoard, the venerable intriguer and
pettiest of Prime Ministers at last re-
signed. But it was no easy matter at
that moment to form a fresh Ministry.
The personal likes and dislikes of the
king, his natural attachment to Han-
over, and the mutual antipathies of
potential ministers made a strong Gov-
ernment impossible, and even a com-
promise most difficult. Pitt was al-
ready recognized as not only the most
popular but as the most brilliant of the
group. But Pitt was most unaccept-
able to the king, whose knowledge of
English was anything but profound,
while his love of brevity in the discus-
sion of business was notorious, and
the Great Commoner had a habit of
treating him in his closet to flights of
oratory which were not only unintelli-
gible to his Majesty but insupportable
to his practical, drill-sergeant type of
mind. Lord Temple was another un-
welcome counsellor. His civility the
king found only less offensive than his
remonstrances, which at times he de-
clared took the form of downright in-
solence.
The result of the lengthy and preca-
rious confusion which followed the res-
ignation of Newcastle, was the rise
of Pitt to supreme power, a power so
gloriously used as to make the epoch
marked by it one of the most memor-
able in the annals of Britain. A not-
able feature, too, of the moment was
the partnership of Newcastle with the
man who had so mercilessly lashed
him and so utterly despised him. Noth-
ing but the greatness of the one and
the insignificance of the other made
such a combination possible. So
Newcastle returned to office, but on
the sole condition of abjuring all con-
nection with great affairs, and of con-
fining himself wholly to the dirty work
of politics, which he loved, and which
148
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
149
possessed at that time an importance
not veiy easy nowadays to fully real-
ize. Pitt had now a free hand, but
when that happy * consummation was
reached it was past midsummer, and
he could exercise but little influence on
the year's operations which had been
already planned. He had succeeded,
however, in the face of some opposi-
tion, in raising the first of those High-
land regiments which from that day to
this have been such a conspicuous fea-
ture in our line of battle. Fifty-two
thousand men had been voted in the
recent Session of Parliament for the
Army, and forty-five thousand for the
Navy; while the militia had not been
neglected. Eight thousand men were
ordered to reinforce Loudon in Amer-
ica, and, adopting that general's very
dubious advice, Louisbourg, with Que-
bec to follow in the event of success,
was made the somewhat premature
object of the main attack. It was an
ill fate for France that the moment
which saw the advent of Pitt to power
in the councils of Britain almost coin-
cided with the withdrawal from her
own of the men who had been the
chief support of her Canadian policy.
Such forces as she had thrown into
Canada were of excellent quality, and
in Montcalm at least she possessed by
very far the ablest soldier on the Am-
erican continent at that time, while in
her colonists she had a willing and
efficient militia. Through the past
winter of 1756-57, little could be as-
certained in Canada about the inten-
tions of the British. The bare rumour
of a threatened attack on Quebec,
would cramp Montcalm's movements
and prevent him from fully concentrat-
ing his strength in an attack on Al-
bany and the flourishing settlements
of the Hudson. The tardy fashion in
which news crossed the ocean in those
days is hard to realize, and Quebec
particularly, seated on its throne of
snow and cut off from the Atlantic by
endless leagues of ice and vast areas
of frozen forests, awaited each recur-
ring spring, in a state of more or less
uncertainty, what fate might be in
store for it at the bursting of the leaf.
Vaudreuil wrote to his Government
upon every opportunity long letters in
praise of himself and his Canadians,
and in depreciation of Montcalm and
his regulars. Montcalm also wrote
home, touching with good-^natured
contempt on Vaudreuil as an amiable
man without a will of his own, and the
victim of designing creatures. He
speaks of the Canadians as useful be-
hind breastworks or in the woods, but
of no account for a front attack. Like
every other European visitor of that
day, he remarks on their inordinate
vanity and boastfulness, *' believing
themselves to be the first nation on
earth."
Vaudreuil confides to the French
minister that one Canadian is worth
three soldiers from old France, though
the latter^ he condescends to admit,
are good in their ways, and it is sig-
nificant he presses for more of them !
His figures, when applied to the facts
of a campaign, might almost be re-
versed without being very wide of the
truth. He had a tolerably consistent
plan of multiplying the enemy in every
engagement by two, and their losses
by three or four. Montcalm's victor-
ies, too, were all due to Vaudreuil's
initiative and support; his reverses to
neglect of Vaudreuil's advice. By this
time, however, the French Government
had probably begun to pigeon-hole the
voluminous documents that emanated
from Quebec. The Governor's child-
ish vanity and hopeless inability to
speak the truth did little harm. He
had his uses, being amazingly ener-
getic and really patriotic, while extol-
ling everything Canadian at the ex-
pense of France was perhaps just now
a fault on the right side. When it
came to severe fighting, however,
Montcalm generally took his own line,
and it signified very little if the Gover-
nor filled sheets of paper claiming the
credit of it, if credit were earned, and
sent them to a remote Minister of Ma-
rine, who probably never broke the
seal. If Montcalm had a fault, it was
perhaps his temper, which seems to
have been quick. Like Braddock, he,
no doubt, had infinite provocation.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
But the silence of this winter on
Lake George was not to be broken
only by the howling of wolves in the
Adirondack Mountains and the roar of
falling trees in the snow-laden forests.
The outposts who guarded the tempor-
ary frontier of the' two nations at
Ticonderoga and Fort William Henry,
respectively, amused themselves from
time to time, and not unprofitably, in
scouting for prisoners, whose informa-
tion was highly prized, and failing this,
for scalps. One really serious attempt
on the British fort was made in March.
It seems to have been designed by
Vaudreuil, and was placed, morever,
under command of his brother Rigaud,
which sufficiently accounted in the eyes
of the old French party for its com-
parative failure. Nor did he trust to
the few hundred men who were win-
tering at the front for his enterprise,
but pushed forward from Montreal a
force that raised the attacking party
to 1, 600 men — regulars, redskins,
and Canadians. They stayed some
time at Ticonderoga making scaling
ladders, and with these upon their
shoulders they traversed the lake on
the ice and crept close to the British
fort on th^ night of March the eight-
eenth, to the entire surprise of the
garrison. Major Eyre was in com-
mand with less than four hundred
effective men. The British garrisons
in all these cheerless, wintry stations
made the most of anniversaries.
Major Knox, in his day-to-day journal
of dreary banishment among the Acad-
ian forests, gives amusing accounts of
the strenuous efforts at festivals which
the feasts of St. George, St. Andrew
and St. Patrick, to say nothing of
birthdays, called forth among the sol-
diers. At Fort William Henry the
Irish saint had been done full justice
to the day before in copious libations
of rum, and the gallant colonial rang-
ers, having as yet no Fourth of July to
their credit, patronized indiscriminate-
ly the festal days of their British
brothers in arms.
The French were just a day too late
to gain what advantages might have
accrued from any laxity after such fes-
tivities, and were received in the dark-
ness by a shower of grape and round-
shot from the garrison, who had heard
the sounds of their Approach while yet
upon the ice. Vaudreuil had not only
given his brother the command, but
had put his notorious predilections
into practice and pinned his faith on
his favourite Canadians and Indians.
Admirable in defence and in the woods,
they now showed their incapacity for
a front attack on ramparts manned by
determined men. Two hundred and
seventy-four regulars of the 44th regi-
ment and 72 rangers kept this force of
1 ,600 men at bay for five days. They
were offered lenient terms of surrender,
and at the same time virtually assured
of massacre by the Indians in the event
of refusal. But these gallant men,
though neither well found nor very
well protected, refused the overture
with scorn. It is significant, too, that
these soldiers were the remains of one
of Braddock's broken regiments, while
the most active of Rigaud's officers in
attack was Dumas, the hero of that
fatal field. This time the tables were
turned, and the French many fell back
before the British few, not, however,
before they had succeeded in burning
the detached outbuildings round the
fort and a considerable number of
sloops, batteaux and whale-boats that
lay ready or in course of construction
for the operations of the coming sea-
son. On March 24th the whole French
force disappeared down the lake amid
a blinding snowstorm, having cost their
Government fifty thousand ItvreSy and
inflicted a loss equal to perhaps a tenth
of that amount. Eyre and his brave
garrison marched out with their numer-
ous sick a few days later, and were
duly replaced by five companies of the
35th, under Monroe, whose name is
indelibly associated with the more
memorable events that in the coming
summer made the spot famous in his-
tory for all time to come.
It was in this same month of March,
1757, that the gallant Knox commenc-
ed, as a lieutenant, that invaluable
journal which he closed four years later
as a major at the fall of Montreal. He
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
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was now at Athenry in charge of a
detachment of the 43rd regiment,
y^hose headquarters were in Galway.
They were ordered to Cork, as part of
the force of 8,000 men which Parlia-
ment had recently voted for Loudon's
support. Six other regiments from
various Irish stations were gathering
at the western* seaport, namely, the
second battalion of the ist Royals, a
thousand strong, together with the
17th, 27th, 28th, 46th, and the 55th,
each mustering some seven hundred
effective men. By the end of March
they were all collected, and lay await-
ing the fleet from England that was to
convey them to America, their actual
destination — namely, Halifax — being
not yet made known. Cork, at the
present day, does not suggest itself as
the port most likely to treat an Imperial
armament destined for foreign service
with special enthusiasm or an excess
of practical sympathy. But Knox, who
was a Scotsman, cannot express sufii*
cient admiration for its attitude during
the six or seven weeks in which the
city swarmed with soldiers and sailors.
It was one of cordial good-will and
generous effort. There were neither
the riots nor brawls common in his
experience to the influx of a large
force into a big town. Instead of
raising the price of necessaries and
lodgings on the poor soldier, under
such great demand, as was the com-
mon custom, the citizens gave him of
their best at the lowest prices, while
large subscriptions were raised for the
support of the women and children he
left behind him. One is accustomed
to think a somewhat brutal indifference
in matters of this sort was character-
istic of the Hogarthian period, and
Knox's account of Cork at a trying
period is pleasant reading. There
were no meetings, such as we now
see, to vote success to the scalping
knives of the Shewanoes and Potta-
wattamies. Even if the blessings of
free speech had been then sufficiently
developed, the native sense of humour
was still too strong to have tolerated
in the alderman of the day such doleful
exhibitions of clumsy malice. Sym-
pathy with France, as a Catholic power,
and indeed, for more solid reasons,
might reasonably have been looked for
in Cork at such a time, but Knox at
least tells us of no such discordant
notes. On April 25th the expected
fleet of warships and transports appear-
ed off the Old Head of Kinsale, and on
the following day anchored in Cork
harbour. There were fifteen battle-
ships carrying nearly a thousand guns,
and fifty transports, averaging some
two hundred and fifty tons apiece, for
conveying the troops, besides numer-
ous other craft laden with stores, siege
guns, and ammunition. It may be
worth noting, too, that a hospital ship
of five hundred tons accompanied the
fleet. The force embarked was in all
something under six thousand men.
It required about six transports to
carry a regiment, giving, therefore,
something over a hundred men, besides
officers and a few women and children,
to every vessel, while each one carried
a pennon to distinguish the regiment
it was helping to convey. The Ad-
miral in command was Holborne, with
Commodore Holmes as second. The
long delay in reaching Cork had been
caused by adverse winds, and it was
this, in great part, and not mere official
dilatoriness, as is sometimes said, that
proved the eventual failure of the en-
terprise. French fleets, it is true, had
got out promptly and were already
across. But they were unhampered
by convoys, nor does it follow that the
conditions of sailing from the Bay of
Biscay were always suitable to getting
out of the Solent.
It was the eighth of May when the
British fleet, numbering upwards of
a hundred ships, with their white sails
filled by a favouring wind, swarmed
out into the open sea. Here three
more battleships and a frigate put in
an appearance, owing to a report that
a large French fleet intended to inter-
cept Holborne, and there was good
ground for the rumour.
• Knox gives us a vivid picture of life
on one of these small transports a
hundred and fifty years ago. They
soon experienced bad weather, and
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
their ship was separated from the fleet
more than once, though they succeed-
ed in finding it again. When a fort-
night out, however^ they lost it
altogether, and were left henceforward
to their own devices. What those of the
skipper were likely to be soon became
unmistakable. Indeed, Knox and
his companions had shrewd suspicions
that, if this worthy mariner had not
actually contrived their isolation, he
was in no way depressed by it. On
their urgent demands and with some
reluctance he opened his secret orders,
which proved Halifax to be their des-
tination, as was generally suspected.
The course he proceeded to steer, how-
ever, struck even infantry officers as
having a strangely southern bias about
it for the coast of Nova Scotia. It
was more than suspected that he had
letters of marque, for privateering was
just then immensely profitable. The
skipper's cabin » too, bristled with
cutlasses and firearms ; the ship
mounted seven guns, and with a force
of a hundred soldiers besides his crew
on board, the temptation to get into the
track of merchant vessels and engage
in a little profitable diversion seems to
have proved altogether too strong.
They sighted several ships, and
each time the decks were cleared for
action, but in every case a closer
inspection proved the hoped-for prize
or suspected enemy to be a neutral or
a friend. One really humorous en-
counter is related. A Massachusetts
privateer approached our bellicose
transport in threatening fashion, the
only sign of her nationality being the
apparently convincing one of the white
uniforms and pointed hats worn by
French soldiers, plainly discernible
upon her decks. Having cleared for an
encounter that looked remarkably un-
promising for Knox and his friends,
the true nationality of the stranger
was disclosed, and the mystery of the
French uniforms was solved by means
of a speaking trumpet. They belong-
ed, in fact, to a number of French
prisoners whom the Yankee had cap-
tured with a French ship. She, on
her part, had made precisely the same
mistake in regard to the British
transport. It seems to have been an
economical custom of that day to makQ
the soldiers wear their uniforms
inside-out on board ship, and those of
the 43rd having white linings, it gave
them all the appearance, at a distance,
of French troops* On their mutual
errors being discovered, the officers
politely asked the captain of the
privateer to dinner, but the amenities
were extended even to the ships
themselves, which got so fast locked
together that for a short time they
were in a somewhat serious predica-
ment. The Yankee skipper, says
Knox, went down on his knees upon
the deck and called aloud to Heaven,
while his British confrere jumped into
the rigging and soundly cursed both
crews at the top of his voice till they
had effected a separation — much the
surest method, according to our diarist,
of getting the job done. Another
little incident is, I think, worth relating.
Though Divine service was punctilious-
ly performed on the deck of the trans-
port, the first mate was accustomed to
introduce a most scandalous novelty
into the ritual. No one, we are told,
was louder or more devout in the
responses than this excellent man ;
but the ship had to be sailed, and he
had to sail her. In the usual course
of business, therefore, it became neces-
sary for him to lift his eyes from his
devotions and from time to time
shout directions to the sailors on duty.
These he gave with no mitigation
whatever of his week-day phraseology,
returning in the most imperturbable
fashion after each discharge to his
responses. It was not easy, says
Knox, for the soldiers to preserve
their decorum, particularly if one of the
mate's eloquent broadsides was inter-
mingled with the responses of the
latter half of the Litany. Fogs and
icebergs, whales, dolphins and *' gram-
puses," and all the wonders of the
deep, were encountered and duly
chronicled by this observant soldier,
till on June 30th they slipped into
Halifax harbour the first of all the
fleet. There they found Loudon with
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
153
his troops just landed from New York
by Admiral Sir Charles Hardy, and
hastened on shore to give him such
news as they could — which was little
enough — of the armament he was so
anxiously awaiting.
Loudon, of a truth, whatever his
shortcomings, had passed a most un*
pleasant winter. The sense of failure
rested upon him as upon the whole
British interest in America. There
was even more soreness than usual, .
too, between the army and the colon-
ists^ the trouble this time lying in the
much-vexed question of quarters.
Seeing that Loudon and his soldiers
were employed in the immediate inter-
ests of the colonies, it was not unrea-
sonable to expect their people to show
some concern for the comfort of their
defenders. Boston, New York, and
Philadelphia were naturally selected by
the commander-in-chief for the winter
quarters of his army. But the first of
these cities showed much backward-
ness in providing shelter, while the two
last were still more inhospitable and
provided none at all till they were
forced to by threats of coercion. Lou-
don swore that, if New York would
not house the troops he had placed
there, he would compel them to accom-
modate double the number. The men
were suffering and sickening for lack
of shelter, and the fierce Northern win-
ter was already upon them. The As-
sembly at length gave in as regards the
men, but held out in the matter of the
officers. Loudon responded by send-
ing half a dozen of the latter to the
house of a prominent townsman, with
a threat of sending twelve if he declin-
ed to receive them. These amenities
were not conducive to good feeling,
and there were probably faults on both
sides. The old English constitutional
dislike of soldiers and a standing army
was in the blood of the colonists, and
the comparatively rigid habits of life
made them dread the easy notions ot
the British soldier of all ranks. Still,
without the British soldier the colonists
would have been helplessly exposed at
this time, both in person and estate, to
their active enemies, ai^d had some
cause to be grateful. True, the per-
formances of the army had not so far
been brilliant, but such organization
and initiative as had been shown was
due in the main to British soldiers and
British money. The colonial militia,
according to Loudon, had an airy way
of simplifying difficult operations, and
talked glibly of **taking Ticonderoga"
or ''marching to Canada." The tend-
ency to inflated talk is part of the
atmosphere of new countries, it is al-
most natural to their life. Any one
who has lived in them nowadays can
well fancy the discourse that was often
heard around the camp-fires of New
England regiments or in blockhouses
on the frontiers of Virginia. But the
colonies had so far shown no capacity
for united effort, and without co-opera-
tion, and perhaps even with it, Mont-
calm, with his veterans and his mobile
Canadians would have swept the coun-
try from end to end. At any rate, the
refusal to find shelter for their defend-
ers was singularly churlish. Philadel-
phia hastened with joy to make the
dispute another cause of wrangle with
their much-harried Governor, Hamil-
ton, whose duty it was to assist Lou-
don in finding quarters for His Majes-
ty's troops. Philadelphia, however,
was finally settled very much after the
fashion of New York. Another cause
of annoyance at this time was the per-
sistence with which provisions of all
sorts were secretly sold to Canada. In
this the Dutch of the Upper Hudson
were the worst offenders. The greed
of their traders had been a fruitful
source of trouble with the friendly In-
dians, and now they were active in
supplying — though by no means alone
in doing so — those sinews of war
which Canada needed much more than
arms and troops, so dismally had she
failed in the primary objects of colonial
enterprise.
On Loudon, however, falls the onus
of having recommended for this season
the Louisbourg scheme. It was not
its immediate failure which redounds
to his discredit so much as the tactics
which left the northern colonies in the
gravest peril, and the western frontiers
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
of the others stUl reeking with Indian
ravage. General Webb, with Monroe,
a brave Scotch colonel, under him, had
been left with three or four thousand,
for the most part raw troops, to hold
the frontier against the able Montcalm
and the whole power of Canada, while
the great effort of the year, occupying
a powerful army and a powerful fleet,
spent itself on the shores of Nova Sco-
tia, and never even saw the first object
of its attack. The important conflict
of the season was reserved for the
remnant Loudon had left behind him,
and resulted in inevitable disaster.
For while he was occupying a force of
nearly ten thousand regular troops in
sham flghts, and cultivating vegetables
where Halifax now spreads its streets
and wharves, Fort William Henry suc-
cumbed to Montcalm under circum-
stances of such horror that its capture
has rung down the ages in reams of
prose and verse.
Montcalm, too, in Canada, had his
winter troubles. His officers, for one
thing, were continually falling victims
to the charms of the Canadian ladies,
which seem, according to all contem-
porary accounts, to have been more
adapted for husband catching than for
intellectual edification. What chiefly
annoyed him was that most of these
girls were comparatively dowerless, a
sufficiently grievous sin in the eyes of
a Frenchman who was also the tem-
porary father of a large military family.
Vaudreuil, it seems, secretly encour-
aged these matches, not merely to
spite Montcalm, but with an eye to
possible settlers for his beloved Cana-
da. Gambling, too, was a passion
with the wealthy clique who lived by
plundering the country, and the impe-
cunious young nobles who swarmed in
Montcalm's French regiments took to
the sport like ducks to water in the
monotony of their ice-bound quarters
at Quebec and Montreal. Balls, din-
ners, and receptions, though on a
limited scale, and attended by more or
less the same circle of guests, went
merrily on. Montcalm entertained
freely, to the detriment of his already
encumbered estate and his ten chil-
dren, not so much from inclination, ap-
parently, as from a sense of duty. In
his letters to his wife and mother he
jokes about his growing debts, and
alludes with humorous despair to the
capture by British ships of certain
table luxuries consigned to him by
their loving hands. Nor did the
French soldiers and the Canadians
outside the small social circles of the
capital coalesce much better than did
the British regulars with their colonial
allies. Indeed, such jealousies were,
aye and still are, inevitable, though
greatly softened and modified by al-
tered conditions. No intelligent col-
onist, or Englishman who has lived in
colonies, would regard this statement
as anything but a familiar truism. The
difficulty of the home-staying, or even
globe-trotting Briton, is to realize the
colonial's point of view, or that Eng-
lishmen and colonial-born Englishmen,
as a class, are apt to jar upon each
till time and intercourse have rubbed
off the angles, which, by the way, they
sometimes fail to do. The exuberant
and splendid loyalty of our colonies,
at this moment above all, obscures
these smaller matters. They are not
questions for high politics, or public
speeches, but of everyday life. One
would call them unimportant, but for
the fact that they have been the unsus-
pected cause of much that is not un-
important. How much greater, then,
in most respects, must have been the
lack of sympathy in these old days be-
tween the average individual of either
stock.
As the spring advanced, Loudon had
concentrated all his troops at New
York in preparation for their removal
to Halifax. His information from
England had been scanty, but his im-
mediate business was to get to Nova
Scotia and there await the reinforce-
ments he had been told to count upon.
But if his home news had been vague,
he knew of a certainty that three
strong French squadrons, with Louis-
bourg as their ultimate destination,
were already on the coast, while he
had only Admiral Sir Charles Hardy,
with a weak squadron, to serve as es-
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
155
cort to his own transports. In brief,
if a French fleet caught him in the
open sea, he was ruined. Secrecy
was now Loudon's only chance, so he
laid an embargo on the shipping of all
colonial ports, with a view to prevent-
ing news of his movements getting
abroad. This movement was neces-
sary, but naturally irritating. He then
lingered on, hoping for tidings of Hol-
borne's fleet, but none came. To
move without such a security seemed,
as in fact it was, a prodigious risk.
But in the meanwhile May had passed
away and June had half gone. His
sailors were freely deserting in order
to join privateers, whose profits just
now were proving an irresistible temp-
tation, and he made a curious effort to
recover some of these deserters by
drawing a cordon of bayonets round
the whole town, and concentrating to
a centre. Loudon and the admiral at
length made up their minds they must
risk both their men and their ships,
and on June 20th they sailed out of
New York harbour. Fortune, how-
ever, favoured them, the French never
guessing how great a prize lay within
their grasp, and by the 30th of the
month they were safe in Halifax, and
in time enough to receive Holbome
and his still more tardy flotilla, which
arrived on July 9th.
Loudon had now some eleven thou-
sand men, nearly all regular troops.
He was greeted by the news that
there were assembled behind the for-
midable ramparts and batteries of
Louisbourg seven* thousand French
soldiers, two- thirds of whom were
regulars, in addition ■ to some fifteen
hundred Indians; while in the almost
land-locked harbour lay twenty-two
ships of the line and three frigates,
carrying nearly fourteen hundred guns.
Louisbourg stood alone amid the fogs
of the northern seas, upon Cape
Breton, which, as I have said, was an
almost barren island, just severed by
a narrow channel from the unsettled
regions of Nova Scotia. It was a
great naval station, however, as well
as an important town for the period,
and was of vital import to the French.
It was garrisoned direct from France,
and was practically out of touch with
Montcalm and Canada. Later on we
shall be before its walls, and have
much to say about it, so will here con-
tent ourselves with remarking that
these same fortifications, with seven
thousand men behind them, and an
overpowering fleet outside, were ad-
judged by Loudon and a council of
war to be impregnable to the force at
their disposal. So the general, after
having spent six weeks at Halifax, re-
embarked on August 16, with seven of
his regular battalions and his provin-
cials, and sailed for New York, leaving
the 27th, 28th, 43rd and 46th regi-
ments to garrison Nova Scotia.
Those that he took back with him
were the 17th, 22nd, 42nd, 44th, 48th,
55th, and two battalions of the newly
raised Royal Americans. Loudon, in
short, performed upon the ocean a
very similar manoeuvre to that execut-
ed, according to the familiar rhyme,
by the *' noble Duke of York " upon
the hill. He carried his force, that is
to say, to Nova Scotia, and brought it
back again without even firing a shot
or seeing an enemy. The French fleet,
by its promptness in crossing the
Atlantic, had saved the situation; while
the British Government, by its dilatori-
ness, due in part to weather, had been
the chief sinner. Loudon, though
devoid of genius, can hardly be blamed
for this fiasco. His crime was rather
in initiating an expedition which strip-
ped the colonies of their chief military
strength and left vital points exposed.
He received his punishment before he
reached New York, for while still on
the sea news was brought out to him
that Fort William Henry had fallen.
Great ridicule has been cast on Loudon
for his Louisbourg failure. A colonial
wag had already likened him to the
figure of St. George upon a tavern
sign — always in a hurry, but never
getting forward. He had certainly no
genius for war, and was a depressing,
unenterprising person, but neither the
delay at New York nor at Halifax was
his fault. At the latter place, in order
to occupy the large body of troops
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there collected, he exercised them con-
tinually in drills and sham fights —
an admirable method, one might well
suppose, for improving their discipline
and keeping them away from rum and
out of mischief. He also occupied
them in the planting of vegetables,
with a view more especially to the
prospective sick and wounded; and
seeing that the lack of these very
things was a common cause ot scurvy
and an indirect one of drunkenness, it
is not easy to understand the jibes and
taunts cast in Loudon's teeth for
employing the leisure of his none too
well disciplined army in these useful
and profitable pursuits. General Hop-
son, who brought out the division from
England, was second in command to
Loudon at this time. Lord Charles
Hay was third, the same officer who
made the famous request at Fontenoy
that the French Guards should fire
first. He must have possessed some
vein of eccentricity, for he made him-
self so conspicuous for open ridicule of
Loudon*s ''sham fights and cabbage
planting*' — in which he declared the na-
tion's money was squandered — that he
was placed under arrest, but died be-
fore his trial. With this same division,
too, there came to America another
titled officer whose character was also
out of the common run, though of a
loftier and very different type, and, in
like manner, was doomed to an early
death. This was the young Lord
Howe, of whom we shall hear anon.
Nor was it only failure in a military
sense that marked this Nova Scotia
enterprise, but the naval force engag-
ed in it met with something more than
failure, though, like the army, it ex-
changed no shot with the enemy. For
Holborne, being reinforced on the de-
parture of Loudon, sailed up to Louis-
bourg and challenged the French fieet
to come out and fight him. La Motte,
the admiral, felt no call to take such
unprofitable risks, nor was it his duty.
So Holborne, like Loudon, proceeded
to sail home again. But he was not
so fortunate as the general, for a hur-
ricane struck him off that iron-bound
and desolate coast and drove him with
irresistible fury against its cruel, surf-
lashed headlands. One ship, with
nearly all its crew, foundered on the
rocks; the rest were saved within an
ace of destruction by a timely chang^e
of wind. Eleven lost all their masts,
others all their cannon; and the crip-
ples found their way eventually, as best
they could, into the various North
American harbours, La Motte, happily
for them, remaining in ignorance of
their plight.
When Montcalm discovered that
Loudon was really withdrawing the
larger and the better part of his army
from the continent, his joy was hardly
greater than his surprise, for he could
now strike with his whole forces at the
feeble garrisons on the New York
frontier. He recognized, of course,
that an attack on Quebec was the
ultimate intention of the Louisbourg-
force, but Louisbourg was not an
Oswego or a William Henry — it ivas
an embattled town of the first class,
strongly garrisoned; and no enemy
would dare to move up the St. Lainr-
rence and leave it uncaptured in his
rear. If Quebec should, perad venture,
be threatened in the autumn Montcalm
could fall back to Lake Champlain in
ample time for its protection. He
might, indeed, have been pardoned for
deeming it more probable that he and
his Frenchmen would be descending^
the Hudson on New York enriched
with the plunder of Albany. But
Montcalm, too, like Loudon, had to
eat his heart^out waiting for an Atlan-
tic fleet, it was not men, however,
that the French commander waited for,
but stores and provisions, whose scarc-
ity was the perennial curse of Cana-
dian military enterprise. Nor was it
in this case lack of human foresight or
a prevalence of western winds that
kept Montcalm impotently chafing till
the close of spring, but the inevitable
ice-floes that impede navigation on the
St. Lawrence. Throughout the whole
winter Indians had been gathering- at
Montreal from all parts of the west
and northwest, eating French bul-
locks and drinking French brandy
till their hosts — especially the reg--
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ular officers among them — serious-
ly doubted if their tomahawks were
worth the price in money and annoy-
ance paid for them. Unlike the
semi-civilized and so<called Christian
Indians of the east, these others were
all heathens, all cannibals, all naked,
and armed only with bow and arrow;
though, for that matter, in the days of
muzzle-loaders used at short ranges in
the forest, the silent, rapidly fired
arrow was not to be despised. The
story of Oswego and the fame of
Montcalm had spread to the farthest
west. The painted and be-feathered
orators from the shores of Lake Super-
ior and the prairies of the Illinois pro-
fessed surprise at the pale-faced hero's
scanty inches. They expected to find
the head of so great a warrior buried
in the clouds, but with true Indian
breeding they hastened to declare that
his stature was quite atoned for by the
lightning of his eye. Montcalm was
terribly bored by the endless ceremon-
ies necessary for retaining their re-
gard. He had no natural turn for
Indian diplomacy, like Johnson, but
endured it from a sense of duty with
heroic fortitude, and proved, in fact, a
remarkable success. Bougainville took
some of the physical labour off his
hands, and humorously relates how he
sung the war song in solo fashion for
an indefinite period, repeating in end-
less monotone that he would *' trample
the English under his feet." The Mis-
sion Indians, too, under the influence
of their priests, were gathering in full
strength. The orgies of these so-call-
ed Christians were as wild as if they
had never so much as set eyes upon
the cross. They went clad, it is true,
but they dyed their clothes instead of
their naked bodies, while their faces
grinned hideously through thick layers
of red and yellow and green paint,
smeared on with grease and soot. All
alike wore the tufted scalp-lock on
their shaven heads, decorated with nod-
ding plumes of feathers; while heavy
rings dragged their ears down on to
their shoulders. A gorget encircled
their neck, and a profusely ornamented
belt their waist, whence hung the toma-
hawk and the scalping knife. The
chief entertainment at their feasts may
be described as boasting competitions,
in which one performer at a time,
striding up and down the line with a
gory bullock's head in his hand,
exhausted the whole Indian vocabu-
lary in describing the feats of valour
he had performed, and would perform
again. It is probable that the boast-
ful language of the Canadians, which
so much amused the French officers,
was a sort of unconscious imitation of
the Indian habit. Indeed, its influ-
ence was not confined to Canada, but
coloured the eloquence of the Alle-
ghany borderer for several genera-
tions, and perhaps is not yet dead!
The store-ships arrived in due course
from France, but it was the middle of
July before Montcalm had collected all
his forces, Indians, regulars and Ca-
nadians, amounting to nearly 8,000
men, at Fort Carillon, better known
in history as Ticonderoga. Prepara-
tions for the coming attack on Fort
William Henry and the British frontier
had been proceeding here this long
time, and the scene, in this romantic
solitude of lake, mountain, and forest,
was a busy one. Since the melting of
the ice in April, Lake Champlain had
been alive with fleets of boats and
bateaux and canoes, carrying men
and material of all sorts to the nar-
rows down which the waters of Lake
George came leaping in a succession
of shallow rapids. This channel was
some six miles in length, a mile only
at either end being navigable. The
rapid portion of the river took a wide
bend, and a road was cut through the
woods in a straight line from the deep
water which flowed into Lake Cham-
plain at one end, to that which gave
access to Lake George upon the other.
Across this rough three-mile portage
the entire material, boats included, for
the operation on the upper lake, had
to be laboriously carried.
By the end of July everything was
complete, and the whole flotilla was
launched upon Lake George ready for
a start. Unwary scouting parties
from the English forts had been al-
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ready captured. Scalps and prisoners
had stimulated the zeal of the Indians,
among whom no less than forty differ-
ent tribes were represented. From
the far regions of Michillimackinak
and the still remoter shores of Lake
Superior ; from the oak and chestnut
forests beyond Lake Erie, where the
finest farms of the fattest province of
Canada now thrive among a network
of railways ; from the deep prairie
lands of Michigan and Illinois came
bands of howling and painted pagans
to " trample the English under their
feet," to drink their rum, plunder their
settlements, and hang their scalps
around their belts, or nail them on
their wigwam posts. Independent
bands, too, from the neighbouring and
professedly neutral Six Nations were
there, and even from the harried bor-
ders of Pennsylvania and Virginia
some warriors, red to the shoulder in
British blood, came to seek fresh fields
of spoil. To mention Hurons, Ojib-
ways and Ottawas, lowas, Wineba-
goes and Algonquins would be naming
but a few of them, while the Abenakis,
Micmacs, and the Mission Indians
were there to the full limit of their
fighting strength.
On the shores of Lake George, how-
ever, before the final departure, Mont-
calm had to submit to one more solemn
function, and address, with simulated
passion, the mass of hideous and
painted humanity that he was obliged
to call his children ; and, after all, if
he had but known it, he had far better,
upon this occasion, have been without
a single man of them. He explained
to them his plans, which was only
reasonable, and then launched out into
those astoundingly mendacious periods
which, according to the code of the
time, were looked upon as entirely
venial. He said how pleased he was
to see them — which in a sense was
true enough — and then proceeded to
inform them how he and his soldiers
had been especially sent by the great
king, Onantio, to protect and defend
them against the English. When his
voice gave out and his stock of back-
woods rhetoric was exhausted, he
presented his savage allies with an
enormous belt of wampum, and pos-
sessed his soul in patience while their
chiefs replied in high-flown and am-
biguous metaphor, amid the solemn
gruntings of the gaudy assemblage.
Another whole day was consumed by
the savages in propitiating their several
deities, the Mission Indians going in
whole bodies to confession, the uncon-
verted warriors hanging dead dogs
and old leggings on. trees and '* mak-
ing medicine," according to each man's
special fancy. The last day of July
saw the surface of Lake George ruffled
by the splash of thousands of oar-blades
and hundreds of Indian paddles. Two
hundred and fifty boats were there,
carrying five thousand men, and
swarms of savages in bark canoes
glided in the van. The cream of
French Canadian chivalry was here,
and famous regiments from old France,
with officers and men now hardened by
American campaigning, flushed with
former victory, and conscious many of
them, that war here meant something
more than a great and bloody game.
The battalions of La Sarre, Guienne
and Languedoc, La Reine, Bearne and
Royal Roussillon were all with Mont-
calm, and only as yet in the second of
those five years of war and hardship
which were to close, for them, at least,
in a defeat only less glorious than vic-
tory. Provisions for some weeks had
been shipped ; and heavy siege guns,
mounted on platforms slung between
boats lashed together, brought up the
rear of this motley armament. Mont*
calm had not boat accommodation for
his whole army. So L^vis, with
Indian guides and twenty-five hundred
men, was detailed to push his way, as
best he could, through the trackless
forest that overhung the western
shores of the Lake. At a spot some
twenty miles on, and eight short of
Fort William Henry, he was to dis-
play three fires as a signal of his
whereabouts. The movement was
successful, the British scouts having
been all killed or captured, and it was
not till Montcalm's whole force, by land
and water, had arrived within two
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
159
miles of the English fort that their
approach was discovered.
Nearly all the available force for re-
sisting the French lay in the two forts
at either end of the fourteen* mile
carrying-place y between the lake and
the Hudson river. General Webb,
now commanding in America, was in
Fort Edward at the latter point ; while
Colonel Monroe was in charge of Fort
William Henry, where there were some
two thousand five hundred men of
various corps, namely* six hundred of
the 35th, eight hundred of a Massa-
chusetts regiment, with some rangers,
and five hundred militia from the
Jerseys and New York. Webb on
this very day, the second of August,
had reinforced Monroe to the limit of
his ability, having no more than six-
teen hundred indifferent troops now
left with him, and a weak garrison or
two on the river route to Albany.
Fort Edward, too, might be attacked
simultaneously with William Henry,
and that by another route, namely, the
long stretch of water running from
Champlain southwards and parallel to
Lpake George, known as Wood Creek.
Fort William Henry lay close upon
the shore of Lake George. It was
square in shape, with corner bastions,
and walls of hewn logs laid as cribs
and filled in with heavy gravel, impreg-
nable to rifle fire or small artillery, but
a poor defence against heavy cannon.
There was not room for the whole
force within the fort, and a great part
of the provincial troops were intrench-
ed on some rising ground six hundred
yards away with marshes upon either
side. Montcalm was able at once to
cut off the whole position from either
retreat or succour, by sending de
L6vis round behind it with three
thousand men to occupy the road and
only route to Fort Edward, where a
famous partizan leader, La Come, with
a portion of the Indians, soon after
joined him. Montcalm now proceeded
to examine the fort, and came to the
conclusion it was impregnable to
ordinary assault. He prepared, there-
fore, to reduce it by regular siege, an
apparently easy matter with his heavy
guns and large forces, which numbered
in all something like eight thousand
men. As a preliminary, however, he
sent the faithful Bougainville to offer
Monroe terms for surrender. He
pointed out that help was impossible,
which was quite true ; that his .own
numbers were overpowering and his
guns to match ; above all, that a large
part of his Indians had come from the
wild west, and that when the surrender
came — which was inevitable within a
few days — and blood had been shed,
he might be unable to restrain their
diabolical ferocity. Monroe briefly re-
plied that it was his duty to hold the
fort, and he should do his utmost to
maintain himself. Montcalm then
opened his lines across the south-
western corner of the lake at a range
of 600 yards. Hundreds of men work-
ed in the trenches night and day under
a fire from the fort that, after the first
few hours, could do them but little
damage. The Indians proved refrac-
tory and of little use. Montcalm
wanted them to scout southwards to-
wards Fort Edward and the Hudson,
but they were sore at heart because
they had not been consulted as to the
operations, and the greater part of
them hung about behind the lines, or
lolled in their canoes or fired futile
shots at the fort. Monroe, in the
meantime, was sending eager mes-
sages to Webb for help, and Webb has
been blamed for not responding. His
previous record has, perhaps, made
his critics unfair. He could not help
Monroe, for his weak force alone
barred the way to Albany, and to
detach a portion of it would have been
to sacrifice that portion either to the
strong forces of de L^vfs in the woods,
or at the almost inevitable surrender
of Fort William Henry.
In three days the best of Montcalm*s
forty guns were in position, and in
two more were advanced to within 200
yards of the fort, whose ramparts
were flying in fragments before their
fierce discharges. Two sorties were
tried, both from the fort and the in-
trenched camp beyond, but were easily
repulsed. Webb might have done
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something in this way, but messengers
could no longer get through to Fort
Edward and arrange for simultaneous
action. Smallpox, too, had broken
out in the garrison, and was spreading
rapidly. Monroe seems to have had
some vague hope that provisions, the
chronic difficulty with all French
Canadian armies, might fail the be-
siegers, for in that wilderness every
ounce of food had to be carried. But
Montcalm had this time made special
efforts, and, moreover, had the good
luck to capture 150 head of cattle
belonging to the garrison.
Bougainville was again sent to pro-
pose terms, and conducted .blindfold
into the fort, but again the brave
Monroe, though he was shown an
intercepted letter to himself from Webb
to the effect that assistance was hope-
less, refused to treat. Another twenty-
four hours, however, saw such warm
work that a council of war was called,
and the white flag was at length raised
upon the walls.
For the whole French artillery was
now intrenched at close range. Many
of the English guns had burst, and
only about half a dozen were fit for
service, while their ammunition was
nearly exhausted ; so Colonel Young,
commanding a detachment of Royal
Americans, or 60th, then newly raised,
was sent to arrange terms of capitula-
tion.
The garrison were at Montcalm's
mercy ; they had no alternatives but
death or surrender, and there were
many women among them. It was
agreed that the troops should march
out with the honours of war, all ranks
retaining their personal effects. Every-
thing else in the fort was to be given
up. Prisoners of war in actual fact
they could not be, for food was much
too scarce in Canada for Montcalm to
indulge in such luxuries ; indeed, the
people themselves were, at that very
moment, on something like half rations.
The British were to be escorted to
Fort Edward, and remain on parole
till an equal number of French prison-
ers should be delivered safely at
Ticonderoga, each batch of the latter
as they came in setting free from their
obligations an equivalent number of
the British. In recognition of the
bravery of the defence, the garrison
were to take with them a single gun,
a six- pounder. The loss had been
inconsiderable — some hundred and
twenty men on the British and half as
many on the French side. It was un-
derstood, however, that these articles
could not be signed until the savages
had given their consent. This, how-
ever, they were induced to do, and
both sides proceeded forthwith to put
them into execution.
The fort was evacuated at mid-day
on the 9th, when the garrison, together
with the women and children, march-
ed out to the intrenched camp, which
was, of course, included in the surren-
der, a French regiment being detailed
to secure them against interference on
the part of the Indians. De Bourla-
maque, entering the fort with a party of
regulars, set a guard over the ammuni-
tion and stores. Everything else was
abandoned to the Indians, who gave
an earnest of what was coming by in-
stantly murdering a dozen or more sick
men, who had been left according to
the articles of agreement in Montcalm's
charge. There was not much plunder
in the fort itself, so the intrenched
camp, where all the British were hud-
dled without arms save the bayonets
of the 35th, soon swarmed with blood-
thirsty demons, baulked of what they
regarded as their lawful prey, and with
hands twitching viciously at their
tomahawks. Numbers of Canadians,
whose morals in warfare were little
higher than those of the savages, min-
gled with the now excited throng, and
showed unmistakable sympathy with
its temper. There was great confusion
throughout the whole afternoon, the
Indians jostling and insulting the pris-
oners, and making attempts from
time to time to wrest their personal
l>^gg£Lgfe out of their hands. The
liquor was either under guard or de-
stroyed, else no efforts of Montcalm
and his officers, which individually
were considerable, could have prevent-
ed a general massacre before night.
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But these efforts of the French officers,
though sincere enough, were not inte]-
ligently directed, nor were they back-
ed at the right moment by proper
force. The whole business, in fact,
was grossly mismanaged. Canadian
militia were stationed at some points
as a protection to the prisoners, though
the Canadian militiaman looked on
plunder or scalps as the rightful price
to pay for Indian assistance, and was
by no means averse to taking a hand
in it himself. The restraint which
Montcalm had exercised over the In-
dians at the capture of Oswego in the
preceding year was regarded by all
Canadians, from the Governor down-
wards, as a pernicious European pre-
judice. Mercy and pity had no place
in backwoods warfare, and it is only
fair to say that the New England
rangers often paid the savage and the
Canadian back in their own coin. But
the responsibility on Montcalm was
very ^reat, and his failure to estimate
its gravity is a lasting stain on his
memory. Bougainville writes that his
chief himself used every effort and
made urgent appeals to the Canadian
officers who had personal influence
with the savages to avert the threat-
ened catastrophe. It would have
been far better if he had promptly call-
ed up his 3,000 French troops with fix-
ed bayonets, who would have over-
awed with ease any attempted out-
break of the Indians. On this means
of protection, however, he drew most
slenderly, and seems to have content-
ed himself with appeals to Canadians
and interpreters, many of whom would
have been inclined to look on a general
massacre as something rather of a
diversion than otherwise.
The afternoon and night of the 9th
were passed anxiously enough by the
two thousand British of all ranks, be-
sides the women and children, within
the intrenchment. They were to
march in the morning, and as soon as
the escort of 300 regulars, an absurdly
weak one, seeing the temper of the
savages, should arrive. Seventeen
wounded men lying in a hut under care
of a surgeon were the first victims.
The Indians brushing aside the sentries,
dragged the wretched men from their
beds, and butchered them within a few
yards of a group of Canadian officers,
who did not trouble even to remon-
strate. As the defenceless column of
prisoners began to move, the savages
fell to indiscriminate plundering. The
men strenuously resisted this attempt to
rob them of their personal effects.
Monroe protested loudly that the terms
of the capitulation were broken and
appealed to the French officers of the
escort Which was drawn up close by.
The latter seem to have been cowed by
the turmoil around them, and had not
even the presence of mind to send for
support to the army which lay a few
hundred yards off. Ail they did was
to urge the British to give up their
property for the sake of peace, and to
get away as fast as possible. Many
indignantly refused this mean advice.
Others followed it, and a certain
amount of rum from private canteens
thus found its way down the throats
of the yelling savages and made them
still more uncontrollable. No sooner
had the column got clear of the in-
trenchments, and started upon the
forest road to Fort Edward, than all
restraint was thrown off, and the
Indians fell upon the rear, stripping
both men and officers to their very
shirts, and instantly tomahawking
those who showed resistance. The
war whoop was now raised — by the
pet converts of the Canadian priest-
hood from Penobscot it is said — when
the rear of the column, rushing for-
ward upon those in front, a scene of
horror ensued that has been described
by many pens. Women and children
were dragged from the crowd ; some
were tomaJiawked, others carried off
as prisoners to the woods. Their
shrieks and cries, mingled with the
hideous yells of the Indians and the
shouts and curses of the impotent
British, made an unforgetable scene.
Montcalm and the French officers
threw themselves among the savages
now half drunk with rum or blood,
and did all that men armed only with
authority and not backed by force, as
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they should have been, could do.
The small French escort in the mean-
time looked on helplessly, the crowd of
Canadians approvingly, as the scene
of blood and plunder and outrage con-
tinued.
At length the exertions of Montcalm
and L6vis, Bourlamaque and other
French officers, had some effect ; but
it was only by promising payment for
the captives seized by the Indians that
some sort of order was restored. The
precise number of both sexes thus
butchered under the eyes of the French,
while unarmed, captives of war, is a
matter of dispute. L6vis counted fifty
corpses on the field, while sick and
wounded men to half that number had
been murdered in their beds, and num-
bers more dragged off into the woods.
It seems probable that a hundred would
be a fair estimate of those slain.
Over six hundred were made cap-
tives by the savages, and it required
the utmost exertions on Montcalm's
part, with a considerable outlay of
money, to recover about half of them.
The Indians would not give up the
remainder on any terms, and eventually
took them to Montreal, where Vaud-
reuil, who, in his character of Cana-
dian, looked with much toleration on
Indian outrage, had to pay for the
amusement this time with large sums
out of his scant treasury by way of
ransom.
There is absolutely nothing to be
said in defence of the French in this
affair. That they did not dare to run
the risk of offending and alienating
their Indians is, of course, the explana-
tion, though surely no extenuation of
such ignoble conduct. It is one of the
worst stains upon the annals of their
arms in America. They would have
been bound by humanity only in the
storming of a fort, but after a formal
capitulation, they were bound not
merely by humanity, but by the most
elementary rule of military honour, and
it is satisfactory to think, that they
paid dearly for it. The British Gov-
ernment, as a matter of course,
repudiated their part of the contract.
and not a French prisoner was sent to
Montreal, nor was the parole of the
garrison taken any account of. The
memory of the massacre drove many
a bayonet home in the coming years
of British success that might otherwise
have been stayed in mercy, and many
a Canadian sued in vain for his life at
the hands of the New England Ranger
who might formerly have been spared.
Remember Fort William Henry became
a terrible, war cry in many a battle and
in many a bloody backwoods skirmish.
The French knew it well and felt that
it added a fresh terror to defeat. The
first impulse of a disarmed or captured
Canadian was to protest by voice and
gesture that he had not been present
at that accursed scene.
The growing scarcity of food in
Canada saved the forts on the Hudson
and, probably, the flourishing town of
Albany itself, from being captured and
sacked by the French. Word was
sent that it was of the first necessity,
that the now ripening harvest should
be gathered, and there were not men
to do it. So the French turned their
attention to the destruction of the
British forts and all its dependent
buildings. Great bonfires were made
of the logs forming the ramparts, and
into them were cast those bodies of the
dead which had not been buried. As
a fortress the place ceased to exist.
Great armaments, some of them as
luckless as the garrison of 1757, were
yet to camp on its ashes, and again to
break the silence of the forests with
the din of war. But for the present
solitude reigned over the devoted spot;
the sounds of human life gave way
once more to the weird cry of the loon
and the splash of the summer-duck
upon the lake, the boom of the bull-
frog in the marsh, the drumming of
the ruffed grouse on the hill. The
waves of conflict fell back for a brief
space, and left the charred logs and
fire scorched stonework, and the
trampled, stump-strewn cornfields of
William Henry, as the sum total of a
year's success and failure.
TO BE CONTINUED
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THE LAST SHOT
By MARGUERITE EVANS
** There is a remedy for every wrong-, and a satisfaction for every soul."-
— Emersofis Immortality,
|F you won't shoot that ram,
I will; but ril be durned
if I thought you was such
a coward. "
**A what!" and the hand-
some, stern-faced Englishman's steely-
blue eyes flashed with a dangerous light.
**A coward! Ain't my articulation
plain enough ?" replied the other, a
rough, old, sour-dough miner. " There
ain't a blamed thing wrong with that
English kid but just pure homesick-
ness, an' there ain't no cure for that
but just ' git home.' I kin set a
broken lim', an' I kin pull a man
through a bad case of fever; but when
it comes to homesickness I either put
my hand in my pocket an' yank them
out enough spots to take them home,
or I turn my head the other way, an'
just let them die. Many a big, strong
fellow I've seen just pine away an' die
from that very thing."
The Englishman had pushed his
chair into the shadow, and shaded his
face with his hand; but the observant
Yankee saw tears trickling through
the browned and hardened but still
shapely fingers, and he pursued the sub-
ject, not because he was anxious to do
so, but because the need was so urgent.
"We're so dead broke we haven't
money enough between us to buy a
plug of tobacco, an' we can't git a cent
of credit. You can't cable to the kid's
mother for money, an' if your Eng-
lishy pride would let you there wouldn't
be time to wait to git it, for the kid's
dyin' in there; anyone with half an eye
kin see that. He ain't got no appe-
tite, an' he can't sleep; an' he just lies
there starin' out of them big, hollow
eyes of his at the trail over the moun-
tain; an' I know durned well what he's
thinkin'. I'm a hardened old sinner,
goodness knows, but many's the night
the tears roll down these grizzled
cheeks of mine to hear that kid cryin'
for his mother when he thinks we're
asleep. He's got to be sent home to
England inside a week, or there will
be a corpse in this shack that will haunt
it while there's one log left on another."
** Granted," returned the English-
man icily, ''still, what has the ram to
do with it ?"
** Damn you! you know well enough;
the last time I was over at the town I
met a young fellow from the east who
asked me if. I ever saw any Mountain
Sheep out this way. Said he wanted
a ram's head with good big horns in
the very worst way to send down
East. Said he knew they were scarce
now an' hard to git, an' that he would
give two hundred for an extra large
one. My opinion is that the tender-
foot wants to let on he shot the
animal himself; but I suppose it's none
of my funeral."
** Well?" queried the Englishman,
brusquely.
*' I lied like a lord, said I hadn't
seen any rams for years; they were
gittin' mighty scarce. But, great
hickory! if I'd told him that we had a
pet ram here that you had raised; that
it had come back to you for a few
weeks spring and fall for the last fifteen
years, an' was here now, an' could be
shot just as easy as rollin' off a log,
wouldn't that young easterner have
been up here on the jump?"
** If you had told him that," said the
Englishman coldly, ** I should have
killed you."
The Yankee chuckled, and uncon-
cernedly cut some tobacco and filled
his pipe. The Englishman rose abrupt-
ly and went outside, where the short
winter day was dying.
Below him lay a dark, undulating
line where oak and cedar had made
their last stand in the upward march;
nearer, the spectral ranks of the stunt-
ed firs showed the outposts of forest
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
advance. Above him dazzling white
peaks cut strange, solemn shapes, like
silver cameos on a ground of indigo
sky. The sunset glory streamed up al-
most to the zenith, lighting and glori-
fying peak after peak with flames of
gold and amethyst and faintest opaline
green. Later, the vivid orange of the
afterglow burned with a transient splen-
dour, as the dying smile of a day that
is going to its eternal rest, and all the
mountain world around him was one
vast evening primrose of palest gold
sprinkled with star dust.
Then the golden glow faded, and all
the wintry world in its glittering livery
of ice lay white and cold and still,
wrapped in peace as profound as that
which reigned in the primeval ages.
For a long, long time the man stood
with folded arms, gazing with eyes
which seeing did not see, at the ever
changing panorama, as memory un-
locked her gates, and left him free to
wander in the realms of the past, and
among very different scenes.
Solemn, mysterious, tremendous was
the picture before him; but memory
showed him a very different one, in the
foreground of which was a beautiful,
dark-eyed woman, the one love of his
life, and in the background an old
English castle with ivied towers and
battlements, ancient trees, and a green
turf soft as velvet beneath the feet.
Back over the winding trail among
the mountains, back over the weary
miles of railway-spanned prairie, back
over the rolling blue waves stretched
the land of*' might have been."
Surely he had been pursued by a
malignant fate! The old castle which
should have been his, the woman who
should have been his, the boy who
should have been his, the unstained
name which should have been his;
home, love, country, wealth, free-
dom even, all lost, and lost through
another's deep-dyed villainy.
And now! an illiterate Yankee miner
had dared to call him to his face a
coward because he refused to shoot a
noble animal which loved him, trusted
him; and all for what? To save the
life of a puling, homesick brat, the son
of the man whose treachery had taken
from him all the sweetness, all the joy
of life. And yet! the boy had his moth-
er's eyes.
. . • • • . •
Slowly, drearily, hopelessly, three
leaden-footed days and nights dragged
themselves by, and still both men were
waiting, like Micawber, for something
to ** turn up," and still the boy, wasted
to a shadow, lay listlessly on his rude
couch, gazing with hungry eyes at the
narrow trail, which wound itself like a
mighty, sinuous serpent around the
steep mountain passes, and vanished
in the distance like the ghost of a
buried hope; and still the ram, secure
in the friendship which he had proved
so long, came and went at his own
sweet will. Now bounding from boulder
to boulder, barely touching the rocks
with his padded toes; now browsing off
dainty tit-bits on the mountain-side,
and now lying at the door of his
friend's shack, gazing with kindly,
golden-brown eyes in their faces as they
came and went.
But! — On the morning of the fourth
day the end came. The boy must be
roused by being told that he could at
once start for home, or he would never
rally from the stupor into which he
had fallen during the night. Both
men realized that.
Outside, in the glad, free air, the
ram, quivering in the fulness of his
life and happiness, was leaping from
boulder to boulder, every movement
the perfection of the poetry of motion.
Inside, the boy lay motionless, scarcely
breathing, gazing with dull, unseeing
eyes at the blank wall, and refusing to
touch the food which with great care
had been provided for him.
One or the other must die, but which ?
Was it chance, or was it the ** des-
tiny that shapes our ends " that made
Yankee at that moment sing in his
high, cracked falsetto, *'And for bonnie
Annie Laurie I'll lay me down and
dee ?" Who can say ? But it decided
the Englishman's course. To** dee"
for his Annie Laurie, that were easy,
for what was life but a burden which
he would fain lay down ? But to betray
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THE LAST SHOT
165
the trust which a noble animal reposed
in him — that was a very different thing!
Still he would do it!
'*Go up to town, Yankee, and bring
back they oung fellow you spoke of," he
said. '* I must see my thirty pieces of
silver before I make a Judas of myself.
Go, for heaven's sake go! What are
you waiting for ?" he continued, as the
other lingered.
'<ril do it, if you like," replied
Yankee, hesitatingly, pointing sig-
nificantly from his rifle to the ram.
*' I don't like! damn you!'' roared
the Englishman, "I'll ask no man to
do my dirty work for me."
It has been said by someone that each
human soul is dowered with an inherent
adaptability to its environment, and no
weight is ever imposed upon it which
cannot by heroic effort be sustained;
and the Englishman had found it so.
Falsely accused, and unjustly con-
demned, he had fled like a hunted
beast from the land which had given
him birth; and, hounded by the blind
zeal of the officers of the law, had
sought refuge in the loneliest retreat in
the loneliest region of the Rocky Moun-
tains, and had, like the eagle, built for
himself a nest on the face of a cliff.
Humanity had turned its back upon
him, but the unaccusing world of
Nature, with the glory of its ever
changing days, and the soothing witch-
ery of its solemn nights, had ministered
healing to his wounded spirit for a time.
Then, the beauty and the awful lone-
liness had palled upon him, and the
terrible monotony of his life had
become unbearable; and one bright
June day, as he watched a mountain
sheep grazing contentedly with her
lamb skipping about, and wagging its
tail by her side, the contrast between
the full, satisfied life of the beast and
the empty, unsatisfied life of the man
had smitten him with bitter, unreason-
able anger. **Why," he questioned
fiercely, "should an animal have some-
thing of its own to love and care for
when I, a human creature, have noth-
ing?" And, with a pure savage desire
to destroy the happiness he could not
share, he had raised his rifle and fired.
The shot sped with all too fatal sure-
ness, and without even a quiver the
sheep lay dead.
When too late he cursed himself for
his brutal cruelty and, kneeling beside
his victim, wept over the ruin he had
wrought, while the poor little lambkin,
knowing no fear, had bleated pitifully
over the body of its dead mother.
Filled with remorse he had carried it
to his shack and fed it with milk from
his own cup, and wrapped it at night
in softest furs, and the little thing had
grown and flourished, and filled his life
at a time when, for want of some liv-
ing thing to love, reason was tottering
on her throne.
True to his animal instincts, the
ram had, in the course of time, sought
out his own kind, but he had always
come back, fearing no evil, and now!
he was to be offered a sacrifice on the
altar of an old sentiment. * And yet!
the boy had his mother's eyes!
The hours had worn on. It was
high noon now. Yankee would soon
be back. Yes! even now, through the
mountain stillness, he could hear the
rattle of the waggon over the rocky
road. There were voices, too! Then
there was no hope, for the young east-
erner was there — and the ram must die !
But he would give him a chance
for his life, and God grant he would
take it ! He should fire three shots.
The first two should just miss him, no
more; the third and last should not miss,
if the ram still remained within range.
The rumbling of the waggon came
nearer, the voices became more dis-
tinct, and inside the shack the boy
moaned feebly.
The ram was browsing happily, not
fifty yards away. The Englishman
took steady aim, and fired. The ball
grazed the grass under the ram's
nose. He looked up for a moment in
surprise, and went on feeding, while
the mountains mockingly took up the
echo of the report, and tossed it back
and forth, and back and forth, as skil-
ful players toss a tennis ball.
The waggon and voices came nearer
and nearer. Heavens ! how fast that
fool of a Yankee was driving ! The
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
boy moaned still more feebly, and
again the despairing, desperate Eng-
lishman fired. The ball knocked the
stone from below the ram's fore foot ;
but he did not run away. Instead, he
turned his brown eyes in startled
questioning on his friend.
Great drops of sweat stood on the
Englishman's forehead, and his heart
thumped like a sledge hammer, but
his hand was steady. And — the boy
had his mother's eyes !
In another minute the waggon
would be there, for Yankee, curse
him, was driving like Jehu ! He must
get it over while he was alone. Yet,
great heavens ! how could he do it ?
How kill in cold blood the friend of
fourteen years, the preserver of his
reason ? But ! the boy had his mother's
eyes ! His finger is on the trigger, it
is half snapped, when an unearthly
yell from Yankee causes him to drop
his rifle, and ** The Last Shot" goes
harmlessly speeding down the mount-
ain side.
*' Great hickory! thank your stars
you haint done it ! Oh great hickory!
I say ! I never was so glad about any-
thing in all my durned life ! Here's
the kid's mother ! "
The ram with glad bounds came
down close to his friend, and laid his
head against his arm; and, with dazed
unbelieving eyes, the Englishman
gazed at the beautiful apparition in
the waggon beside the uncouth, ges-
ticulating, tear-begrimed Yankee.
** Aren't you going to assist me to
get out, or must I jump ? " asked the
sweetest voice, belonging to the
sweetest lips, in the world.
Then his inherent English pride and
breeding reasserted itself, ai}d with his
old-time courtesy he assisted the lady
to alight, and in his old-time tones,
without a trace of his recent emotion,
said: **You are just in time, Lady
Hinton. I was afraid that youngster
of yours wasn't going to pull through;
but with such a nurse, and such medi-
cine, he can't do otherwise than get
well at once." He led her to the door
of the shack and left her.
^* For all the durned coolness and
high mightyness, in this earthly sphere,
give me a dogoned Englishman ! "
soliloquized Yankee a few hours later,
as with his arm around the ram's large
curved horns he lay in the sun on the
mountain side. ** You'd have thought
he had seen that woman every day for
the last ten years, he was so durned
cool and polite. Sat at the head of
that durned table, without a cloth or a
durned thing on it but the dishes an'
the grub, as unconcerned as if it was
loaded with china, an' flowers an'
silver, an' had a flunkey behind each
chair. But ! " with a wicked grin,
*' I fixed him, didn't I, Rammie ? I
made his little cake of high mighty-
ness dough, durned if I didn't, old
Rammie ! I don't believe in flyin' in
the face of Providence, an' what else
would it have been if I hadn't im-
proved my opportunities this mornin'
in that long drive I had with my Lady,
to tell her how much store he set by
her kid for her sake, an' how he was
goin' to shoot you, old Rammie, an'
sell your head to get money to send
her kid home to her. Catch him tellin'
her a durned thing about that ! Even
if he had fired that last shot at you,
and killed you, old chappie, he'd have
let on it was just because he wanted
to, an' never hinted that it broke his
heart to do it.
*'But I fixed it up! Durned if 1
didn't, old Rammie. He is heir to an
earldom, an' his innocence has been
proved, she said ; an' I never let on
that he had been so durned close ; he
had never told me what he was accused
of, but since he didn't do it, an' didn't
shoot you, old Rammie, it doesn't mat-
ter " ; and the ram blinked his eyes as
if to say : * * Them is my sentiments too. "
** I rubbed it in well ; what a des-
perate store he must set by her when
he was willin' to fire the very last shot
at you, old chappie; an' if she don't
take him back with her, an' marry
him, an' leave you an' me monarchs
of all we survey here, old Ram, I'm
no judge of dark-eyed widders — an'
it's me that knows how they play the
devrl with a man, Rammie."
But subsequent events showed that
Yankee was no false prophet.
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AMUSEMENT IN STATISTICS
By STAMBURY R. TARR
I HE preparation of mortality
statistics is not primarily
an amusini^ occupation.
But even tombstones have
contributed their quota to
the world's fund of humour. So it is
not inconceivable that a mortality in-
vestigation should give rise to occa-
sions for smiling or even for hearty
laughter. Data was collected recently
from the leading life insurance com-
panies of Canada and the United
States, for a specialized mortality in-
vestigation by the Actuarial Society
of America. This necessarily involved
the reading of thousands of old appli-
cation papers, and from some of these
the following material has been culled.
Frequently the reports of private
friends, sent in connection with the
applications, contain amusing com-
ments. One acquaintance writes in
the following candid manner of an ap-
plicant: ** Fairly temperate — takes an
occasional bust." Asked whether a
friead was active or sedentary, another
writes: ** Both — he rides a bicycle."
But among the private reports per-
haps the most noteworthy is the fol-
lowing: ** He is an extraordinary man
for eating potatoes, but his other hab-
its are good. He is a born teetotaler. *'
One of the company's agents, in re-
porting to head office upon an appli-
cant who happens to be his own son,
makes this reply to the question as to
whether he is acquainted with the per-
son proposed. **Very intimately — as
1 am in a measure responsible for his
appearance on this sublunary spher-
oid." Questioned as to an applicant's
habits, a conscientious agent states :
** Temperate, though since his return
from Germany he seems to think that
a pipe with four feet of stem is the
right thing." One of the company's
representatives, himself evidently pos-
sessed of poetic tastes, reports that a
certain applicant's reason for taking
out a policy is that '' the youth dreams
this will be an assurance more grateful
to- his mistress than ' a woeful ballad
made to her eyebrow.'"
One of the questions on the report
form to be filled out by the agent reads
as follows: * Ms there anything in his
manner, conversation or appearance
which indicates ill health, irregular
habits, etc.?" A comprehensive an-
swer supplied by one agent declares:
*' He can take a standing jump of 5 ft.
7 in. — his manner is good — his con-
versation modest, though I have heard
him swear when he lost a bass."
A somewhat precarious state of do-
mestic bliss is thus described by a med-
ical examiner, in reply to a question
as to the applicant's habits: ** Said to
be somewhat wild at one time. Is
now married and living steadily. He
lives with his mother — or mother with
him. It is hard to say which — but the
mother has the means."
Upon enquiry from head office as to
the cause of an applicant decreasing
in weight from 162 to 150 pounds, the
local medico replies: **Mr. A. informs
me that the only way he can account
for loss in weight is that last July he
was selling oil for one dollar and
twenty cents per barrel, which had a
fattening effect on his system; while at
the present time he gets only eighty-
five cents for same commodity." The
** fattening effect" of petroleum has
seldom been more forcefully illustrated
even in the advertisements of patent
emulsions.
It is, however, the statement of
applicants themselves that prove of
most interest. It is not surprising to
find that the man who states his father
is ** in good health, aged 70, and
alive," is an Irishman, though another
who declares his mother to be ** in fair
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
health and not deceased/' is English.
Another surprising piece of informa-
tion is conveyed in the statement that
'' Five children died in infancy, three
being boys; the rest were girls." The
emphasis of the man who affirms '' I
am single — not married," must carry
conviction to every reader. Paternal
pride glows strong in this statement
by a fond father: '* I have one child;
he is in good health, and a perfect lit-
tle devil!"
That one applicant '^ left the family
at the age of ten in a huff," is not
remarkable — every boy has done that
more than once. But in this case,
unlike the generality, Johnny did not
turn up at supper time, nor ever again,
and, in consequence, no information is
now given as to ages of parents at
death. A somewhat noteworthy fam-
ily it must be of whom one of the
members says: ** My brothers and
sisters are both whole and half broth-
ers and sisters."
In another family circle the ' ' grand
maternal parents are still living," while
one less favoured man doesn't know
** whether there ever were any near
relatives or not." Recognizing the
bearing of heredity in deciding upon
applications, one intending insurer
emphasizes the fact that '* although
my own mother died young my step-
mother is alive and in good health."
Another is less impressed with the
importance of ancestral longevity, and
complains in writing, 'Mf it is abso-
lutely necessary to answer all these
questions — which requires a person to
have a knowledge of his forefathers
from Adam down — please cancel my
application."
An applicant of over sixty remarks
concerning his mother that she is liv-
ing at the age of about one hundred
years, '^ health being good, but not
very active." One can imagine the
carefulness with which the medical
directors would feel compelled to
examine into the application of a man
whose mother ceased doing house-
work after a mere century of mundane
existence.
Statements with regard to the cause
of relatives' deaths are sometimes so
oddly put that the reader forgets the
pathos underlying them. A pathetic
enough series of facts is told in a vivid
but rather an unusual way by one
applicant in this manner: '^ My brother
fell down a well and was drowned;
was brought back to life again; lived
seven months, took a fever, and died."
Those who may doubt that the capa-
city for intense passion has survived to
these prosaic days will be interested in
the statement of one applicant that his
brother died at the age of twenty-
three, of no particular disease, but of
a broken heart from being disappointed
in love."
A rather complicated state of affairs
it must have been which led to death
'* from inflammation induced by swal-
lowing knife, fork and spoon." The
applicant who states that his father
''took cold and died, as judge of a
horse race," undoubtedly does so as
proudly as if he "died as a scholar
and gentleman." Credulity is some-
what stretched in reading of a mother
who "died at the age of 5," but on
referring to a supplementary memo,
it is found that the omission of a mere
zero has made a perceptible difference.
One parent " had a leg taken off which
healed up, but fell from a chair and
never got out of bed after " — altogether
a somewhat complex case to diagnose
if paralleled by the difficulty in analyz-
ing the sentence itself. Little less
complex is the culinary achievement of
the man who "took a mixture of
onions, buckwheat and milk of his own
compounding, which resulted in an
illness."
A whole novel in parvo is to be
found in the following legal statement,
found within the outer envelope con-
taining the insurance papers of the
applicant :
"I, John Dash, of the Town of
Dashford, the assured under policy
No. 00000, granted by the Blank Life
Assurance Company, do by this in-
strument revoke the benefits intended
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THE LAND OF LONG DA YS
169
to be conferred by declaration, dated
3rd August, 189 , endorsed upon said
policy, upon Miss Jane Nemo, my then
intended wife, she having since mar-
ried Another ; and do divert the entire
benefit of the said policy wholly to
myself, my executors, administrators
or assigns."
Could a more up-to-date revenge
than this be imagined? The possi-
bilities of thrilling romance are by no
means exhausted when everyday life
contains so moving an instance of
what a desperate lover can do. To
contemplate the fate in store for the
said Another *' must give us pause."
But the finding of more or less
amusing statements, such as those
mentioned, is only one incident in a
task which in other ways constant-
ly reminds those engaged in it that
they are dealing with the records
of individual lives — each of them
with its own world of interests, its
own strivings, its own joys and sor-
rows.
Sometimes in the bare statement of
family history the collator of facts in-
stinctively sees between the lines
glimpses of individual or family pathos
and suffering — some closet skeleton
that seldom sees the light of day, a
tragedy even that forces upon him the
realization that everyday life is made
up of the same elements from which
dramatists evolve their most moving
creations.
THE LAND OF LONG DAYS*
By EDWARD F. STRANGE
ONCE upon a time in the Land of
Long Days, it happened that all
the people were grown up, and so
there were no children.
Then the men said: "Now there is
DO one to wake us up when we fall
asleep after meals, or to ask us ques-
tions that we cannot answer."
And also the women told each other
that at last they should have peace,
for there would be no children to scold
and things would keep clean.
So they were all glad and set about
their work with cheerfulness and a
good temper.
But because the King was very old
and very wise he said nothing.
Now the first trouble came this way.
The men went far afield in the morning
to work and by noon were faint and
hungry; but no one brought food as of
old, so some had to waste their
time and labour in fetching it for the
others. And that was a cause of sor-
row and wrath, and the oldest of them
went to the King and complained.
The King thought the matter over
in silence for three days and nights;
then he sent for the messengers and
said: "Take by lot one from every
ten of you, and let him serve the
others; and he shall be called a child
by the law."
Again there arose strife among the
women, for they wearied of talking to
each other while the men were at work
and when the spinning was done;
and they grew sour and spiteful and
slovenly in their attire, having no need
to set a good example. And again
the messengers came to the King.
This time he debated with the Queen
for six days and nights, and sent for
the messengers, and said:
** Take by lot one woman from every
five — seeing that there is need of
many — and let her follow the example
of her elders, and do as she is bidden
without question; and give her toys,
and let her be a child by law."
In that land also there were many
wise men by reason of the days being
so long; and they also came unto the
King sadly, for they said that wisdom
* By permission of The Outlook of London, Eng.
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was now of no account, since there
was no one to be taught.
At this the Kiag^s heart became
heavy with sorrow, for the wise men
of his land were very wise. Twelve
nights and days did he ponder, and
then called them to him and said:
** Lo ! you are my people, and I am
King; therefore must I help you as
I may. I will become as a child for
you, and you shall teach me, and I will
learn, so that you be content !"
But all that the King did was of no
avail, and the cry of the people
became sadder and sadder.
One day a poor man stood in the
King's gate and spoke aloud.
** O King," said he, ** I am but a poor
man and in pain with toil; yet if a
child's hand were laid on my brow
I should be well."
And the King said, ** What of thy
law-child?"
But the man answered — sadly, for
he had forgotten how to laugh — **0
King, she is older than I, and her
hand is not as the hand of a child."
And thereat he went away, for he loved
the King.
And many things like this befell
daily.
Once the King walked alone in his
courtyard trying to think. But or
ever he saw the end of his thoughts the
song of a starling on the roof brake in
upon them and scattered them. At
last in bitterness the King cried out :
**0 starling, why dost thou mock
me? — thou hast thy little ones, but we
are a barren nation and our hearts are
breaking."
But it seemed to the King as he
spoke that the song of the starling
was this :
Help cometh for thee
From the tears of a little child.
And he hastened forth and gathered
his ambassadors together with gold
and silver and rich presents, and bade
them go far into the next country
to the King thereof, bearing a mes-
sage :
**To our cousin, greeting and good
health. We are old and would fain
hear the voice of a child before we die.
Send, therefore, one unto us for a
little space.'*
Then the ambassadors went on their
journey and laid this message before
the King of the next country. He,
thinking to do well, straightway called
for his eldest daughter, and clothed
h^r in her robes of State, and sent her
forth with the ambassadors to greet
his neighbour. And the embassy set
out and made haste to return.
As they came near to the palace the
ne^^s of the coming of a child spread
through the country, and all the people
hasted together to see her. But when
they saw the rich robes of State and
the proud face of the Princess some
wept and some were angry, for they
said :
**This is naught but a law-child
from the next kingdom!"
And also the Princess looking about
her saw some of the law-children, men
and women of all ages, at their games
and duties. At first she wondered and
then laughed aloud in scorn.
* * O King," she cried, * * are thy people
mad? for I see men of many years play-
ing with toys, and grown women also."
And she laughed in the King's face.
The King's anger rose in his coun-
tenance, but for courtesy's sake he
treated the Princess with due cere-
mony.
But on the next day, at the hour of
audience, the labourer stood again in
the Hall, and cried to the King to ease
him of his pain.
Then the King turned to the Princess
— and the Queen, also — and entreated
her to lay her hand on the man's brow
that he might be cured.
But the Princess turned aside. ' * Not
so," said she, ** diamonds touch not
clay lest they be soiled."
Again was the King wroth: and this
time he called together the ambassa-
dors again and sent her back with them
to her own land, saying:
**This thy daughter is verily a Prin-
cess, but I have need of a child. Send
now one, or I will come with my armies
and destroy thee."
At this the other was much per-
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FROM KOBE TO CANADA
>7i
plexed, for he feared to give offence.
But his Chamberlain bethought him-
self and said:
"There is a cripple child that play-
eth about the gate of the Palace, and
hath not father nor mother. Let my
lord send her just as she is, and per-
chance the king of the South will be
appeased."
So that was done with all speed, and
the embassy returned home again
bringing the cripple child.
This time, however, the people took
no heed, having been saddened before.
And the cripple came unto the King
without notice and stood beside him in
the Hall of Audience.
And again the labourer kqelt before
the King, but ere he could speak the
child looked upon him and saw his
sorrow. And she placed her hand on
his brow, weeping for love of the
unknown man whose countenance was
so sad.
Then the man stood up straight
before the King and thanked him, for
he was healed and his face shone with
happiness.
And a glad cry rang throughout the
land like the sound of sweet music,
and behold in every house was heard
the laughter of children and tears of
women whose hearts were filled with
joy. Everywhere the children came
trooping by thousands, and their faces
were shining like gold and their eyes
like diamonds.
And instead of a cripple there stood
before the King the most beautiful
child that ever was seen.
This is the end of the story.
FROM KOBE TO CANADA
BY EDWARD A. WICHKR
T^HE black smoke traileth o'er the heavens low-bow*d,
The leaden waters silent part and close
Where moveth from the harbour's smooth repose
The Empress of J apart ^ serene and proud,
Toward *Kii channel, where the currents crowd.
Toward the fierce Pacific just beyond,
Where heave the myriad leagues of dark despond,
Toward the light that breaketh through the cloud,
Toward the land that gave me life and light.
And hope and love and every perfect good.
Land of the North, land of ascending might.
Dear homeland, land of God*s own fatherhood,
Far homeland. How the exile's heart is sore!
I look and long. When shall I see thee more ?
•Pronounced Kee.
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WE are the spectators of one of those
great revolutions which influ-
ence the world for all time. A race
towards whom the white man was
loftily inclined to assume the position
of arbiter and destiny-provider has
suddenly shown that it is fully his
equal both on land and sea. It may
be a rude and barbaric standard, but
it remains a fact, that the nation
which is ready to enforce its views
with men and guns must be admitted
among the first rank of the nations.
The Yankee captains, who, fifty years
ago, used to set out with a single ship
and deliver ultimatums at Yeddo, may
earnestly hope that these incidents are
forgotten. Nations which are dis-
posed to hold the Japanese as an
Ishmaelitish race, who may be excluded
at the ports of entry or refused equality
%^^> yi*w* t^^mft To*i(r
Russia: "My mines are working great. Now if I
could only get a Japanese ship over one of them!"
— Detroit News,
172
of rights with other peoples, will have
to revise their rule of conduct towards
these competent, efficient and indomi-
table little men of the East. Thanks
to the firmness of Sir Wilfrid Laurter,
Canada has steadily refused to exclude
them from our shores. With custom-
ary prevision the Canadian Premier has
noted the rise of these neighbours
of ours on the Pacific, has sent com-
missioners to study their wants and
their commerce, and last year made a
point of making a special display of
Canadian products and manufactures
at the first great international exhi-
bition held in Japan. To it he also
sent Mr. Fisher, Minister of Agricul-
ture. While making these approaches
he has been careful to veto all British
Columbia legislation intended to ex-
clude the Japanese from Canada. Far
better to let them in hospit-
ably than have them break-
ing in with their torpedo
boats. As a result of all
this Canada and Japan are
on the most friendly terms,
and Mr. Noss^, the Japan-
ese Consul at Ottawa, is no
doubt able to report to his
emperor that the Japanese
cause has nowhere warmer
partisans than among our
people.
Naturally enough those
who concern themselves
with the signs of the times
are asking whence this '*ar-
rival" of the Japanese race
leads. The significance of
it is not confined to the peo-
ple of Japan. Is there not
a possibility of a similar
evolution among the four
hundred millions on the
Asian mainland? Not only
^^
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CURRENT EVENTS ABROAD
'73
will they have the example,^
but they may even welcome
the leadership and mitiative
of Japan. That there are
hundreds of thousands of
men in the Chinese Empire
capable of being turned into
as good soldiers as those
which bayonetted the braw-
ny Russians on the Yalu
can scarcely be questioned.
The people of the Chinese
Empire are not of one race,
and therefore they cannot
be spoken of as possessing
uniform characteristics. The
Mongol of the north with
bis friendliness towards
strangers, his talkativeness
and love of showing off, is
surely the very stuff of
which soldiers are made, whatever the
silent, suspicious, secretive Chinese
of the south may be. Whether the
Chinese like it or not, and whether
Europeans like it or not, Japan in-
evitably assumes the leadership of the
East. China will be forced to turn to
her in any moment of perplexity or
danger, and her island neighbour will
accept the responsibility with all its
risks and vista of possibilities.
FRANCE AND RUSSIA
France : '*Oh give me, oh give me my millions back
again. * * — Nebehpalter,
ago when Britain, Holland and the
United States were threatening and
coaxing Japan to open her doors, no
one could have guessed the transmu-
tations which now we see. While the
influence of Japan will undoubtedly be
cast against the pretensions of nations
intruding on Chinese territory, it will
also just as surely be employed against
Boxer uprisings, brigandage, exclusive-
ness, retroaction and retrogression.
Is there anything to be de-
plored in this ? We of the
English races are only con-
cerned that China shall not
be dismembered, shall open
her doors and shall preserve
order throughout her bord-
ers. In these aims Japan
sympathizes. Japan has
flourished because Western
progressiveness and effici-
ency have become her ideal.
Her influence will be thrown
in the direction of making
them the ideal of China also.
Just how difficult it may be
to bring about such a
change we, in our ignor-
ance of what is behind those
oblique eyes, can only
vaguely guess. Fifty years
TIBET'S DILEMMA
"HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER, ETC.
Russian: **You leave her alone; she is mine, and
mine only and wholly!"
Indian John Bull : " That remains to be seen \ "
— Hindi Punch
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174
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
THE BRITISH BUDGET
THE RECKONING
Mr. Bull:. ** You're a charming companion, my dear Arthur;
but I really don't think I can let you order the dinner again."
—Punch
An Asian Monroe doctrine may be
proclaimed, by which the status quo
will not be disturbed, but which will
forbid fresh aggressions or the en-
largement of the existing European
footholds on the Asian coast.
The consummateness of Japanese
strategy and the superhuman courage
with which it is being carried out, has
challenged the admiration of the world.
The only points which one would
be inclined to question is the policy
which entailed on thousands of men
the exhausting marches from Seoul to
Ping-yang over the execrable Corean
roads. The ice-bound state of the
coast, the necessity
of impressing the
Coreans, the bad ef-
fects of inaction,
might all be put for-
ward as reasons for
this decimating
march. They will
hardly be felt to be
sufficient, and if the
troops were those of
a European power in
command of the sea
this useless expendi-
ture of flesh and blood
would have been
much condemned.
The retort can of
course be made that
whatever the trials of
the march may have
been, the troops were
able to send the
enemy to the right
about when the test-
ing-day arrived. The
sea operations before
Port Arthur, the time-
liness of the arrival
of the army landed at
Pitsewo, the imme-
diate subsequent iso-
lation of Port Arthur,
the persistency of
Gen. Kuroki's divi-
sions in the pursuit
of Gen. Sassulitch's
beaten army, all show the almost
daemonic courage and energy of the
new people. Thespirit of self-sacrifice
exhibited in blocking the entrance to
the harbour at Port Arthur is un-
exampled, unless it can be paralleled
among Mahommedan peoples, who
see the nymphs of Paradise beckoning
to the heroes who die for the faith
on bloody battlefields.
How is it going to end ? People will
have difficulty in believing that a
mighty military power like Russia can
be overwhelmed by an antagonist so
much inferior in population, wealth
and resources. Indeed, we all realize
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CURRENT EVENTS ABROAD
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that there must be some earth-shaking
conflicts before any acknowledgment
of defeat could be wrung from the
proud and arrogant Muscovite. It can
scarcely be held even by the friends of
Russia that her business has been
managed well. Fallen human nature
is too apt to enjoy the humiliation of
that pride which goeth before a fall.
During the negotiations Japan was
treated with the easy superciliousness
that would have been accorded to the
representatives of some of the wander-
ing Tartar tribes that have succes-
sively been brought into the Russian
system in the march across Asia.
Contemptuous delay and immovable
and resistless ponderosity were ex-
pected to impress and subdue the little
people. But to the giant's evident sur-
prise and dismay he finds liis pigmy
antagonist angered by the one and
not intimidated by the other. Since
the opening of hostilities, we have
had from the Russian side a great
deal of bluster and a great deal
of bounce about signing treaties at
Tokio; from the other not a word, but
an amazing lot of deeds. The situ-
ation suggests several images in nature
--a great blundering, lumbering buffalo
with an up-to-date wolf alternately at
his heels and at his head; or a pufFed-
up whale spouting and blowing while
an acrobatic sword-fish whips his bony
rapier into him every few seconds.
Unquestionably the main Russian
troops will be forced to retire on
Harbin. It is quite unlikely that the
Japanese will follow them there, unless
it turns out that the tales of Russia's
strength in effective troops have been
as much exaggerated as everything
else. If Russia can assemble half a
million men there within the next few
weeks it would be folly to go up
against them. Japan's game then is
to choose an impregnable position at
some convenient place between Harbin
and Port Arthur, and invite her enemy
to come and see her. She can afford
to wait now much better than Russia
can. The latter will have Port Arthur
and its starving garrison, battered
every once in a while by a hostile fleet
in the offing, on her nerves. She will
have moreover a disillusionized and
murmuring Asia in her rear, the very
stomachs of her army in' daily depend-
ence that no unfriendly hand will blow
up a bridge or culvert along the 500
miles of railway that traverses the soil
of those that hate her. The position
is a desperate one, from which only the
mightiest efforts which a country has
ever put forth can rescue her. Has
she the financial resources to meet
such a crisis ? That is a matter of
much doubt. In view of it all I will
venture to predict that should her gen-
erals score anything that looked like
a rehabilitation of Russian prowess,
France would soon be conveniently on
hand with offers of mediation.
The visit of the King and Queen to
Ireland has been cordially received by
the people. The feeling between the
two countries is undoubtedly better
than it has been for years. There is
more promise in that fact for the ulti-
mate attainment of what thousands of
Irishmen yearn for than in any other
one circumstance. Why do English-
men refuse the boon of self-govern-
ment to Ireland ? Because they be-
lieve the power would be used to sever
the political tie altogether. As soon
as this conviction leaves the English-
man's mind his reason for withholding
that for which the Irishman craves
will disappear. Home Rule would
not be synonymous with separation
if Irishmen were content to remain
within the Empire. Once he felt he
was free to go or stay he would per-
ceive that even his material interests
pointed out that it would be better to
stay. We detest things, however
good, when we are compelled to
have them.
John A, E'wan
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\^^rAN
H.d I t
GO, LOVELY BIRD
(The *' bullfinch hat " is in evidence and
a leading ladies' newspaper tells its readers
that this is to be a bird season. — Daily Paper.)
Go, lovely bird,
Speed from my lady warily,
For she hath heard
That finches dainty decking be,
And her sweet charms mean death to thee!
Cares she that's young,
And seeks to have her graces spied.
That thou hast sung
In woodlands where the violets hide ?
She loves thee better stuffed and dyed!
For at the sight
Of ruffled breast and stiffened limb
Her eyes grow bright.
A wreath of death will bravely trim
The circlet of my lady's rim!
So fly! For she
Would claim in service all things rare,
Including thee.
And thy short life she will not spare
When Fashion says that thou art fair!
—Punch,
JUNE used to be, as from time im-
memorial the impassioned poets
have told us, the month of roses and
rare days and sweet communings with
nature, but now this month of months
is associated in our minds with another
idea, and **the month of weddings"
has become a synonym for ** the leafy
month of June."
No longer do the covers of the
ladies' magazines bloom this month
with many-hued roses. They have
long since been swept aside to give
place to bewitching June brides in all
sizes and poses.
Not long ago I came across the fol-
lowing rather interesting paragraph in
an old English paper: —
** I suppose there are few people nowadays
who do not know the origin of the word
*■ honeymoon,' or the month of honey, which
can be traced back to the ancient Teutons,
inhabitants of Northern Germany, whose
custom it was, whenever there was a wed-
ding in immediate prospect, to make a special
brew in honour of the marriage festivities.
This mead, or metheglin, was drunk for a
period of thirty days after the celebration of
the wedding; after that time the beer became,
in a measure, undrinkable, turning sour and
bitter. Of course, in some cases it kept
sweet and wholesome a little longer, and
sometimes it became a little bit 'oif' before
the thirty days had expired. Like many
other things besides marriage, it was too
sweet in the beginning, and fatally bitter In
the ending!"
With the revival of the full skirts
and short-waisted gowns of the early
Victorian period comes a revival also
of the dainty lawn and muslin under-
sleeves which our mothers and grand-
mothers embroidered long ago for
their adornment. They will doubtless
masquerade to-day under a more pre-
tentious name than plain undersleeve,
since these be times when there is
much in a name, and no self-respecting
society reporter dreams of designating
a skirt otherwise than a jupe^ while a
plain ** dress- waist" is unknown in
her vocabulary.
But whatever it may be called, the
undersleeve is here, and into the trunk
of the summer girl who is given to fine
needlework will go a supply of sheer
lawn and linen destined to be converted
176
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WOMAN'S SPHERE
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MURRAY VILLAGE — ONE OF THE PICTURESQUE SPOTS ON THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE.
PHOTO BY NOTMAN, MONTREAL
during dolce far niente days into these
dainty little articles.
Fashion decrees that they are to be
decorated with the hand embroidery
which our grandmothers did so ex-
quisitely, and there is much ransacking
by ambitious maidens of grandmother's
treasure-chest for old silver embroidery
stilettos, and yellowed linen sleeves
which may be used as patterns for
Fashion's latest fancy.
Another Arts and Handicrafts Ex-
hibition has been held recently in
Toronto under the stimulus of the
Woman's Art Association of Canada.
Since this Association first interested
itself in the various branches of hand-
work which are done by the women
who have come to live amongst us
from many different countries, it is in-
teresting and gratifying to note the
great improvement in the work which
is now being done compared with that
of a few years ago.
With the careful instruction as to
designs and colouring, the practical
help with regard to obtaining proper
dyes and a market for saleable articles,
6
and the constant encouragement being
given by the Association to the various
women hand-workers in different parts
of our country, there is no reason why
Canadian arts and handicrafts should
not on some not too far- distant day
attain to as high a standard of excel-
lence as the work of the skilled
** craftswomen " of the old-world
countries. ^
Now that once more the ** spring-
cleaning " is an accomplished fact, and
the furs and winter garments are safe-
ly stowed away under the protection
of camphor balls or other similar evil-
smelling compound, in whose neigh-
bourhood no self-respecting moth
would deign to linger, it is time for
the busy Martha of the household to
turn her attention to the question of
where the family will go for its sum-
mer outing.
Before deciding hastily that one
really must seek mountain air in the
Adirondacks or White Mountains, or
that it is positively necessary to fill
one's lungs with the salt breezes that
fan the coasts of Maine and Massa-
chusetts, would it not be rather a good
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178
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
idea to ascertain first if it is not pos-
sible to find in Canada both mountain
and sea resorts where the air is as
salubrious and invigorating as that of
Maine or New Hampshire ?
Not long ago a girl who was going
out to the Pacific Coast for the first
time, said: '' I wonder why it is that
people are always so anxious to fly to
other lands before seeing anything of
their own. Summer after summer our
whole family troops off to the conti*
nent, and yet until this year my knowl-
edge of Canada was confined to To-
ronto and Montreal and what I have
occasionally read of it in C.P.R. guide
books or an illustrated magazine arti-
cle. People I have met abroad have
often embarrassed me by talking about
the beautiful scenery in different parts
of Canada of which — to my shame be
it said! — I knew nothing. Hereafter,
for some years at least, my travelling
is going to be done in my own coun-
try. I never dreamed that there was
such wonderful variety in Canadian
scenery — such grandeur and such
magnificence, such scenes of turbu-
lence and riotous splendour, such idyl-
lic pictures of pastoral peace and Wat-
tean-like daintiness.'*
The train was swooping down into
Kicking Horse Canyon as she spoke,
and a young Irishman who had been
hangi ng half out of the car window, drew
in his head a moment to declare im-
pressively: ** Well, it's just five years
to-day since I left Ireland, and in that
time I have been pretty well over the
world — Germany, Switzerland, Spain,
Africa, Borneo, Ceylon — all sorts of
places, but I have never anywhere seen
anything to equal this. Yes, it*s
worth a year of a man's life to take
this trip!" and with the last word out
went his head again.
For those who prefer quiet scenes
of lake and stream and woodland,
there are the Thousand Islands, all the
attractive spots in the ever-popular
Muskoka district, the Kawartha Lake
country, Massanoga, and the countless
other summer resorts in Ontario ; for
those who long for high altitudes and
mountains there are the superb Rockies
and the other ranges of western Ca-
nada ; for the sea-seeker there is an
embarras des richesses in the myriad
charming seaside resorts in the Mari-
time Provinces ; while for those who
would fain combine sea and mountain
air there are all the delightful little
French-Canadian watering-places on
the St. Lawrence below Quebec, where
the salt air from the River and the
breezes from the Laurentians meet and
mingle their health-giving properties.
Surely with such a rich variety and
such a wealth of places to choose from,
one should not find it difficult to spend
a thoroughly delightful summer in
Canada, where one could, while stor-
ing up strength for the winter, be
learning at the same time much of the
charms and natural resources of one's
own country. ^
Mrs. Langtry, whose youthful grace
and beauty have been the wonder of
her sex through several decades, has
been talking recently on the ever in-
teresting subject of the retention of
health and beauty. Her remarks are
worth considering.
''To a great extent," she declared
to the newspaper woman who was in-
terviewing her, *' a woman's beauty is
measured by her vitality. The key-
stone of physical beauty is perfect
health. Work, sunshine, exercise,
water and soap, plain, nourishing food,
lots of fresh air and a happy, content-
ed spirit — there, as you say, * Honest
and true* — is my working rule for
youth, youthful spirits and youthful
looks. But the profoundest secret of
my keeping young is that I have learn-
ed to keep my thoughts young ....
I believe in the importance of pure
food simply cooked, but pure air in
unlimited quantities and knowing how
to fill the lungs with oxygen, not only
while doing breathing exercises, but
every moment of one's life, waking or
sleeping, is the vital acquirement. . . .
Whatever a woman's circumstances
are she cannot look her best unless
she has learned to breathe correctly.
Until a woman has learned that her
spirits, her health, her amiability and
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WOMAN'S SPHERE
179
hell's gate, FRASER canyon — A MAGNIFICENT SCENE IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS
PHOTO PV EDWARDS BROS., VANCOUVER
her good looks depend upon her using
her lungs to their fullest extent she has
not learned her most important life
lesson. Without money and without
price she can learn the surest way to
acquire a clear skin, bright eyes and
youthful face I look back
on my pictures showing my hour-glass
figure with positive amazement. How
could I ever have thought I was get-
ting my share of life in these prison
corsets! The greatest difficulty the
woman who has worn the tightly laced
corset encounters in her efforts to
breathe correctly is through the im-
pairment of the waist and abdominal
muscles, which have been for years
unused. . . . Deep breathing should
not be a matter of five minutes a day.
It should be continuous; but until one
has learned how, it is better to make
a practice of regularly going through
several deep breathing movements two
or three times a day. . . . Walking is
the best exercise for women. It brings
into play every muscle without strain-
ing, and is one that poor women as
well as rich can take. The girl who
is in the habit of walking is easily mis-
tress of the drawing-room graces.
She is free in movement because she
has had plenty of the best exercise. 1
sleep with windows wide open and all
heat turned off. We can't get too
much fresh air. Thete is no sleep so
sweet, so refreshing, as that which
follows a busy day spent in happy, ex-
hilarating work."
Mrs. Langtry is right, and the wo-
men of the city and the town are be-
ginning to learn the lesson. In Eng-
land they learned it some time since.
•
MOTHER
BY ZONA GALE
I wish I had said more. So long, so long
About your simple tasks I watched you, dear;
I knew you craved the words you did not hear;
I knew your spirit, brave and chaste and
strong-,
Was wistful that it might not do the wrong ;
And all its wistfulness and all its fear
Were in your eyes whenever I was near.
And yet you always went your way with song.
0 prodigal of smiles for other eyes
1 led my life. At last there came a day
When with some careless praise I turned away
From what you fashioned for a sweet surprise.
Ah, now it is too late for me to pour
My vase of myrrh — would God I had said
more ! — Selected,
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PARTY FIDELITY
IHILE Professor Goldwin
Smith is uttering protests
against the party system
and its evil effects upon
government policies, the
Parliament of Canada has been giving
a stirring example of party fidelity
in connection with the Grand Trunk
Pacific Railway proposition. Before
the Bill was brought forward, resolu-
tions endorsing an amended agree-
ment previously entered into by the
Government were introduced. The
debate on these resolutions covers
403 pages of Hansardy containing
604,500 words. And yet that debate
did not result in changing a word in
the resolution, a line in the contract,
or the vote of a single member. The
country would have been much richer,
in fact, had the resolution been passed
without discussion.
Viewing this incident dispassion-
ately, one cannot but conclude that
debates in the House of Commons
under present conditions are a farce.
The Government whips its followers
into line by saying that the policy it
has laid down must be upheld or there
•will be no distribution of patronage by
the members who oppose it. And,
after all, what is the position of a
member of the ruling party without
patronage? The money to be spent
in his riding is divided and the offices
-distributed on the advice of a local
politician who has ambitions concern-
ing the member*s shoes. True, Mr.
Blair opposed the Grand Trunk Pacific
project and received a Government
position, but the circumstances were
exceptional.
On the other hand, the Opposition
speeches were all along one line,
all breathing forth the misfortunes
which must follow the building of a
new railway on such lines as the Gov-
ernment laid down. There was little
honesty in the criticism, no desire
to give the Government credit for
what was good in the bargain, only
a combined attempt to beat a noisy
drum.
This party fidelity extended to the
newspapers. The Conservative jour-
nals throughout the country echoed the
destructive words of the devoted mem-
bers who support Mr. Borden; while
the Liberal journals boldly proclaimed
that the wisdom of the Government
was the wisdom of High Heaven, and
that not one word of the bargain was
faulty, not one feature open to a
moment's discussion. It does not
follow that one side was wrong and
one side right. It is not certain either
that the Grand Trunk Bargain was
improperly conceived, or that it was
the best that could have been secured.
It is not apparent that wisdom has her
home among one party or the other.
The conclusion to be drawn from the
episode is that party fidelity is destruc-
tive of common-sense and of a desire to
find out what is best in policies enun-
ciated by governments or to discover
what is honest and forcible in opposi-
tion criticism.
There are some members of parlia-
ment, some publicists and some jour-
nalists who are struggling against this
undue exercise of party fidelity.
Notable among these independent in-
fluences are the The Weekly Sun and
The News of Toronto. In its issue of
April 23rd, The News objects to seven
features of the Grand Trunk Pacific
bargain, the chief of which are the lack
of government oversight concerning
the first mortgage bonds and the price
at which the common stock is to be
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PEOPLE AND AFFAIRS
i8i
sold at, and the lack of a provision
making the Abitibi to Moncton sec-
tions contingent on the finding of a
suitable route. Having thus explained
its objections, The News goes on to
say that the new railway *' ensures to
our country the broad, simple and im-
mensely important advantage of a
second link between the East and the
West. . . . New areas of stupen-
dous size and of incalculable possibili-
ties will be opened for development.
. . . We will gain a new footing
on the Pacific, and the Pacific is the
ocean of the future. . . . The
West will gain a new outlet." Then
this admirable summing up of the
whole question is ended with the fol-
lowing paragraph :
*'Itis worth while paying for benefits so
enormous. It is sound policy to pledge the
country's credit to help so pregnant an enter-
prise. The pledging may be done in a reck-
less and unbusinesslike manner, and yet in
the broad outlines be wisely done. Some un-
deserved fortunes may be made, some un-
necessary burdens may be laid upon the
people, the freight rates may be more burden-
some than is justifiable. But these drawbacks
constitute a price which the country is able
to pay. We disapprove many of the details,
and approve the general lines of the bargain."
It is a pity that party politics could
not be carried on in the admirable
spirit displayed in this editorial. Such
a state of affairs is easily possible if
Sir Wilfrid Laurier and Mr. Borden,
and those in like positions, were to
loose the reins which they now hold so
tightly over their followers. It would
also be possible if the journalists of
Canada were to place the good of the
country before the success of the re-
spective political parties. Why should
Canada not have a parliament of free-
men instead of a parliament of party-
bound slaves and conscienceless ad-
venturers? Why should men, who in
private and business life bear the
marks of honour and dignity, walk
into the House of Commons and be-
come as brass-mouthed graphophones
and voting puppets ?
The party system may be good in
the main, but in Canada we are suffer-
ing from the abuses not the uses of it.
Every party worker admits the abuses
but finds it easier to go with the tide
than against it. The result is lament-
able.
PROHIBIT MATCHES AND ELEC-
TRICITY
N'
row that the Dominion Alliance
has found that the total prohibi-
tion of the liquor traffic is an impossi-
bility for the present, it might turn its
attention to the prohibition of matches
and electricity.
On April 23rd, children playing with
matches in Berlin Ont., caused the
death of a two-year-old girl whose
clothing caught fire. On the same
day in the city of St. Catharines, a
little boy, two and a half years of age,
climbed out of bed, secured some
matches, set his clothing on fire, and
was burned to death. These are not
unusual occurrences. Hundreds of
lives are lost annually because of
matches. Surely it is time that the
prohibition of matches was a feature
of our legislation.
On the evening of Tuesday, April
19th, an electric wire set fire to a
building in the city of Toronto and
destroyed fourteen million dollars'
worth of property, throwing six thou-
sand people temporarily out of work.
Almost every week electricity is setting
fire to something, or causing the death
of a lineman or other unfortunate who
comes in contact with the deadly cur-
rent. Why not prohibit the produc-
tion or use of electricity ?
He was a wise man who said, *' Be
sure you are right ; then think it over.'^
I quite agree with those who believe
in the total prohibition of the liquor
traffic ; but I have thought it over,
with the result that I believe that it is
impossible at this stage of civilization.
People must first be taught that whis-
key is harmful when taken as a bever-
age, that its use should be exceptional.
Indulgence in strong drink is a sign of
weakness, and all the boys and girls in
this country should have that fact im-
pressed on them every day in the
week, every week in the year. Edu-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
HILDA D. OAKELEY
Warden Royal Victoria College for Women and first female member of McGiU's
Arts Faculty.
cate the people, and prohibition will
come gradually and naturally.
WOMEN AND UNIVERSITIES
IT is not so many years since women
were admitted to Canadian Uni-
versities on an equal basis with men.
To-day, many of them are found in the
classes of all the larger institutions.
They do fairly well in the classes and
occasionally find a brief period of use-
fulness as fellow or assistant. Now
McGill University has gone a step
farther and made the Warden of the
Royal Victoria College for Women a
member of the Faculty of Arts. This
is a notable triumph for Miss Oakeley
and the weaker sex.
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PEOPLE AND AFFAIRS
183
Hilda Diana Oakeley who has
achieved this notable innovation is a
new-comer to this^ country, and the
credit therefore lies rather to English
education than to Canadian. She is a
daughter of Sir Evelyn Oakeley, form-
erly chief inspector of training colleges
in England and Wales. From a Man-
chester School she went to Somerville
College, Oxford, whence she gradu-
ated a Bachelor in Arts with honours,
and a first-class in Liters Humaniores.
She then spent some time in political
science and constitutional history, in
the meantime lecturing on logic and
engaging in other educational work.
In 1899, she was awarded a research
studentship at the London School of
Economics, but resigned it to come to
Canada to take up her present work.
McGill gave her an M.A. in 1900, and
now bestows this further honour upon
her.
McGill has gone farther than any
other Canadian University in providing
for its women students, although Vic-
toria College, Toronto, recently added
a splendid residence, Annesley Hall.
This will shortly be supplemented by
a new residence for women which will
probably be a part of University Col-
lege. Now that Trinity College has
become a part of the University of
Toronto, St. Hilda's will probably be
used as a women's residence. Thus
shortly the University of Toronto will
have three residences for its women,
Annesley Hall, St. Hilda's, and the
new one that is to be erected shortly.
MORMONISM
THE Christian Guardian does not
like the article on Mormonism by
James L. Hughes which appeared in
the May Canadian Magazine. Among
other things, it says:
* * Neither of the * peculiar institu-
tion ' of polygamy, nor of the hideous
superstition of ' sacraments for the
dead,' nor of any other of the well-
known immoralities and blasphemies
of Mormonism has Inspector Hughes
a single word of deprecation. The
culture, the music, the woman suffrage.
the education, the zeal, the wealth, the
amusements of the Mormons, inspire
his pen and fill his paper. But there is
another side, and a terrible one. Those
who are infinitely better qualified to
judge of Mormonism and its results than
Mr. Hughes; those who have known it
not as flattered visitors for a week, but
as long residents in its centres and
profound students of its workings,
have far other tales to tell. There are
families in this very Canada of ours
broken-homed and broken-hearted be-
cause of this thing which is so bepraised
in the article before us.
'* For many long years the leading
statesmen, educationists and religious
workers in the United States have
recognized Mormonism as one of the
greatest menaces to the political and
social well-being of that country* We
are surprised that a high educational
functionary of Canada shows no more
sympathy with them, and with the vast
majority of the people of the great
republic, in their efforts to rid them-
selves of what they believe to be a
social pest-house and a source ot moral
contagion and national danger and
disgrace."
IMMIGRATION
The opening months of 1904 have
witnessed a continuation of the immi-
gration movement which last year
brought us 129,000 new citizens. The
Anglo-Saxon race is always expand-
ing. It has spilled over into America
until the United States is comfortably
filled ; it is now overflowing into
Canada. We have six millions of
people to-day. Mr. Lightall estimates
that we have room for liine hundred
millions. The number required is
therefore 894,000,000. If they come
at the same rate as in 1903, six thou-
sand years will be required to secure
them. Even if we received a million a
year, it would be nearly nine centuries
before the country is filled up. In view
of these figures, the labour unions and
trade councils need have no worry about
the country filling up too rapidly.
John A. Cooper
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CONCERNING THE HONOUR OF
BOOKS
SINCE honour from the honourer proceeds,
How well do they deserve ihat memorize
And leave in books for all posterities
The names of worthies and their virtuous
deeds :
When all their glory else, like waier-weeds
Without their element, presently dies
And all their g-reatness quite forgotten lies,
And when and how they flourished no man
heeds !
How poor remembrances are statues, tombs.
And other monuments that men erect
To princes, which remain in closed rooms
Where but a few behold them, in respect
Of books, that to the universal eye
Shew how they lived ; the other, where
they lie.
—John Florio
A CANADIAN IN KOREA
REV. JAMES SCARTH GALE,
author of ''Korean Sketches"
(Revell, 1899), and **The Vanguard, a
tale of Korea" (Revell, 1904), was
born near the village of Alma, Welling-
ton Co., Feb. 19, 1862, educated at
Elora High School, St. Catharines
Collegiate Institute and Toronto Uni-
versity, where he graduated in the
spring of 1888. He went to Korea in
the autumn of the same year as lay
missionary, supported for four years
by student contributions. He then
transferred his allegiance to the Ameri-
can Board, and has been in the employ
of that body since then. In 1896, while
home on furlough, he was regularly
ordained.
A specimen of a Korean prayer is
given in *'The Vanguard,*" Near
Ping-yang there is a famous shrine,
•Chicago and Toronto: The Fleming H.
Revell Co.
famous for its mysterious power. **On
the first day of the moon and the
fifteenth day, the people of the town
brought food and money and paper,
and spread it out on the ground before
the spirit and said, *0 spirit ! here is
this offering, take It, eat it, inhale it,
do what you like with it, only be good,
and give us money, and rice, and sons,
and good grave-sites, and long life,
and nothing to do, Amen.* ** Korea is
a place of great ignorance, of great
immorality, of great depravity, if "The
Vanguard'* is a true picture. It should
be left in Japan's hands, now that she
has once more taken possession, and
perhaps it may be improved. No
doubt it will take many years of des-
perate education.
This story turns a new page in fiction;
it shows the picturesqueness, humour,
romance, and grim struggle of the life
of a young Canadian who elects to be
a missionary to the Koreans. In view
of the present war, the location in
itself is enough to make the book in-
teresting, but its interest does not rest
on that only, nor does one need to be
a mission enthusiast to be taken with
the story, — it is a recital of telling
incident that grips attention from first
to last. The Western characters are
all unique, and also the natives from
Ko the thief, gambler, and general
thug, to Jay the insurrection leader,
who got his price out of the govern-
ment. Underneath all is the romance
of the hero's life, with its dramatic
and happy finale.
** Korean Sketches," by the same
author, is a series of semi-humorous,
semi-descriptive tales about the hermit
nation, its people, and their four-footed
companions. Mr. Gale has crossed
the country twelve times, has penetrat-
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•85
ed into its most remote sections, and
has lived with princes and coolies.
CROCKETT'S LATEST
THERE is a certain vigour in the
novels of S. R. Crockett which is
disconcerting to the reviewer, who finds
that writer's novels flowing in with un-
ceasing regularity — if there is such a
form of motion known to the human
mind. "Strong Mac*'* is the story of
a simple-minded young giant, who at
the opening ctf the story is attending
the Lowran schoolhouse and living
with his poacher-father at the tiny
freehold House of Muir, in the Gallo-
way country. Adora Gracie, the
young schoolmistress, shares the hon-
ours of the story, and the romance that
is woven about the two by this skilful
author seems very real and decidedly
intense. Crockett strongly delineates
his characters, so that there is no
mistaking their identity. He describes
their moods, their feelings, their
ambitions, their actions, with much
nicety of phrase and picturesque
expression, until the heart of each is
laid bare to the sympathetic reader.
As these characters lived away back
in the time when Canada defended
herself from the United States and
when Wellington fought in Spain,
they did not live and speak as we do
now, hence there is an added quaint-
ness in the romance. The times were
ruder and sterner and justice was
differently interpreted and differently
administered. Might was more nearly
right in the individual, and the strong
man needed his strength. Yet, even
strong men had difficulties from which
they barely escaped, as the story of
Strong Mac most plainly shows.
A PROBLEM STORY
Doctors and students of science will
find in **The Narrow Enigma,"* by
Melvin L. Severy, a book worthy of a
spare hour. This kind of problem-
story is an oasis -in the desert of
•Toronto: The Copp, Clark Co.
JAMES S. GALE
Author of "The V^angnard," and
** Korean Sketches."
monotone romantic fiction. This fea-
ture adds a piquancy and intellectual
exercise to an interesting tale — though
not in all cases. ^
TWO VOLUMES IN ONE
** Dorothea,"* by Maarten Maartens,
is entitled **A Story of the Pure in
Heart." It is as ambitious as a ser-
mon, as * long, and as interesting.
The reader ^ho ventures to ramble
through its pages will require much
patience, which will not be without
reward. ^
NOTES
JUSTIN McCarthy, the novelist
J and historian, has recently been
placed upon the civil list of the British
Government to receive an annual pen-
sion of £250 ($1,250). A prominent
English publication expresses surprise
that an author whose works are so
popular wherever the English language
is spoken should be in need of a pen-
sion. A score of editors have sprung
forward with the information that Mr.
* Toronto : The Copp, Clark Co.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
McCarthy has been ds generous in the
spending of his money as he has been
indefatigable in earning it, that he is
now old (in his 73rd year), and that for
the last five years he has been almost
blind, requiring the services of his
daughter, with whom ,he lives, as
amanuensis.
Mr. A. C. Swinburne, who was
sixty-seven on Tuesday, April 5, is
stated to have completely recovered
from his recent severe illness. It was
in 1857-8 that Mr. Swinburne's earliest
writings (says a writer in the West-
minster Gaeette) were published in the
*' Undergraduate Papers," edited by
John Nichol, who, with Sir Michael
Hicks Beach, Sir James Bryce, T. H.
Green and Dr. Birkbeck Hill, was a
contemporary of the poet at Balliol
College, Oxford. Mr. Swinburne's
first volume, ** The Queen-Mother and
Rosamond," was issued in i860 by
Pickering, but before many copies were
sold it was transferred to Moxon, who
issued the work with a new title-page.
His '' Poems and Ballads," which has
had the largest sale of any of Mr.
Swinburne's works, dedicated to "my
friend Edward Burne-Jones," was
originally published in 1866.
In his recently-published reminis-
cences of the Duke of Wellington,
Lord Ellesmere tells how punctilious
the great Duke was m the matter of
paroles, and he never forgave an offi-
cer who acted dishonourably in this
respect. On one occasion, he recounts,
a Colonel Walters who had been cap-
tured by the Spanish appeared at the
dinner table. The Duke's first im-
pression was that he had broken his
parole; those who were present never
forgot the awful expression of his face.
It was not until the officer explained
that he had made a daring and entire-
ly legitimate escape that his superior's
brow cleared.
There was a tragic occurrence in the
Lake of the Woods district in 1736,
when a son of Lav6rendrye, a mission-
ary and a score of voyageurs were
massacred by the Sioux of the Prairies.
A complete account of this affair is
^iven in a paper recently contributed
by Lawrence J. Burpee to the Transac-
tions of the Royal Society. To the
same series C. C. James contributes a
record of the Second Legislature of Up-
per Canada, 1796-1800. The four ses-
sions of that body were held in York,
but Mr. James does not describe what
was done, contenting himself with bio-
graphical notes on the men who made,
up that historic body. (Ottawa: James
Hope & Sons.)
The Royal Astronomical Society of
Canada have issued a volume of se-
lected papers and proceedings for 1902
and 1903, edited by Arthur Harvey,
F.R.S.C. This is a valuable volume,
although regret must be expressed
that the poor ink and the imperfect
press-work have spoiled what is other-
wise an attractive publication. This
society is successor to the Astronomi-
cal and Physical Society of Toronto,
which title was considered ''too local
for a body which had valued members
in other cities and desired to bring to-
gether for their general good all Cana-
dians who were interested in astronom-
ical science." (Toronto: George N.
Morang & Co. Paper, 144 pages.)
There will be issued this month in
the United States and Canada a vol-
ume of racing stories by W. A. Fraser,
under the title "Brave Hearts." These
stories are probably Mr. Eraser's best
work, as he appears to be more at
home with the horse than with any
other animal. These tales have all his
accustomed vigour, with a reality
which makes them vivid and convinc-
ing. The scenes range through Ca-
nada, England and India.
The McGill University Magazine for
April (Vol. 3, No. 2) contains, as a
frontispiece, a fine portrait of the
Hon. Charles Dewey Day, Chancellor
of McGill University, 1857-1884. Most
of the contributions to the number are
worth reading, the weakest being the
lecture from the pen of Professor Mac-
naughton. The poetry is above the
average. (Montreal: A. T. Chapman.)
Edwyn Sandys has a new book ready
which will be issued early in the fall.
It is entitled ''Sportsman Joe," and is
a combination of fiction and woodlore.
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BHSH,
THE STRATEGY OF BIGGS.
BIGGS sat at ease in the ** Queen's"
verandah chair.
Hidden among the cedars at the
brow of the long gentle slope leading
into the village, is a pretty red brick
cottage ; neat, bright flower beds in
front, a well-kept garden at the rear.
There Biggs lives. But energetic,
little Mrs. Biggs and son Jack deserve
the credit for establishing this cosy
home. Biggs is their free boarder.
Scheming for free drinks at ,the
** Queen's,'* and posting himself in
politics from the hotel copy of the
Daily Bugle^ are his chief occupations.
Curtin, the cattle buyer, came driv-
ing along the Main Road. 'Twas his
first trip north of the Townline. That
summer, cattle were scarce, high-
priced and hard to buy, and he was
widening his territory.
Curtin's gig drew up at the door of
the village hotel.
"Buyin' cattle? " queried Biggs.
"Yes, any to sell?"
"Mebbe," was the guarded reply.
"Aren't you coming in?" he con-
tinued, scenting the probable treat.
" What about them cattle ? " asked
Curtin after a couple of rounds of
" something " at his expense.
"'Cross the bridge, 'bout a mile
out," he was informed.
They drove out.
"There they are," pointed Biggs a
few minutes later, and they halted at
the crossroads. Half a dozen steers
looked lazily at them from the corner
field.
Curtin climbed the fence and ex-
amined the bunch. Biggs, from the
gig, dilated upon the fine condition of
each animal.
"What's your price?" asked the
buyer.
*• You're buyin'," was the curt re-
sponse.
" Well, I'll give you forty apiece for
these four and thirty for the others.
What d'ye say?"
" It's blamed hot here. Let's go
back and talk it over," was the reply
of the thirsty man in the gig.
" Say thirty-five apiece for the two-
year-olds, then," raised the drover,
continuing the discussion in the Blue
Room of the "Queen's," after a spell
of refreshment.
Biggs wouldn't say.
Refreshments continued. Still he
wouldn't say.
"Forty apiece all round," urged
Curtin.
Biggs was inexorable. The liquor
flowed deliciously cool.
"See here, mister," broke out the
drover at last, irritably, " I'll give
you forty-five all round. Your blamed
cattle ain't worth it, but I'm in the
township to buy and I'm goin' to buy.
Have another. Here's a ten on the
bargain. I've got to be moving."
Biggs slowly drained his glass, and
spurning the tenner walked unsteadily
out to resume the arm chair, while
Curtin settled the score.
" I say, landlord," asked Curtin.
"What's the matter with that blamed
fool? What does he want for -his
cattle?"
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
UNIMAGINATIVE.
. Auntie. — ** Do you see the hair in this old brooch, Cyril? It was your Great-
Grandfather's."
Cyril. — **I say, Auntie, he didn't have much!" — Punch,
*« His cattle? What cattle? Where?"
ejaculated the astonished host.
**Why, the cattle we were out
lookin' at. Tenth line, he said it was.
That corner opposite the cemetery."
''His cattle?*' snorted .the hotel
keeper. ** Biggs don't own a calf.
That's Garlen's ranch out by the ceme-
tery. And he gathered in every head
for sale in the township last week, too."
Curtin drove quickly along the Main
Road, up the long gentle slope leading
from the village.
Biggs slept at ease in the *' Queen's"
verandah chair. — Don Graeme,
A TWENTIETH CENTURY INTERNA-
TIONAL CATECHISM LESSON
What is the first duty of a nation?
To glorify itself and serve itself for-
ever, and by any means which may
not bring it in conflict with a more
powerful nation.
What are Christian nations ? Na-
tions with large armies and navies.
What is a treaty ? A solemn agree-
ment between two or more nations,
which the weaker are in honour bound
to obey.
What is arbitration? A means of
settling disputes between nations so
equally matched that one is afraid
to go to war and the other does not
dare to.
What is Benevolent Assimilation?
The process of adapting the resources
of the weak to the benefit of the strong.
It is practised by lions and tigers
towards lambs and deer, and by
Christian nations (see def.) towards
barbarous and semi-civilized peoples.
Also sometimes known as the Spread
of Civilization. The most efHcient
and generally used instruments for
this beneficent process are mission-
aries, rum and rifles
Edwin J, Webster, in N Y, Life,
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A DIVING HORSE
THE accompanying photograph
shows a diving horse in action.
It is, indeed, a source of never-ending
A DIVING HORSE IN ACTION
opening is that of a new ''Scenic Tun-
nel" facing the Horseshoe Fall. I
chanced to be in it one July day in 1903
when a workman — one of a number
engaged in erecting an elec-
tric power house at the base
of the Table Rock Cliff-
was hoisted by a derrick up
the 160 feet of distance to
the level of the cataract.
The man hung on to a pul-
ley block and was, there-
fore, suspended for some
minutes over the boiling
waters of the river and in
the mist of the Horseshoe
Cataract. Needless to say,
the man's position when
photographed was a precari-
ous one; at least, it would
be to the average man. The
electric works at the Falls
present some new phases to
the tourist, even though the
wonder that animals are
able to learn so many novel
tricks. At the Toronto Ex-
hibition last year a horse
was present who was able
to go to bed and to cover
himself up with the clothes.
A few years ago. a diving
elk went about the country
giving exhibitions. Per-
forming elephants, lions, and
smaller anin^als are numer-
ous. A diving horse is, how-
ever, one of the newest.
AN ODD SNAPSHOT
This interesting and curi-
ous snapshot was taken
at Niagara Falls. The
A SNAP-SHOT AT NIAGARA FALLS
PHOTO BY FRANK YBIGH
189
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IQO
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
THE FARTHEST NORTH TOWN IN CANADA, FORT MACPHERSON,
ON THE PEEL RIVER. IT IS WITHIN 200 MILES
OF THE ARCTIC COAST
natural beauty of the surroundings is
fading away before the predatory hand
of the capitalist.
A CURIOUS LETTER
New York, March i6th, 1904.
My Dear Bob, — Your letter — short
and sweet — received some days ago,
and I am glad you found my remarks
re snobs to the point.
My dear Bob, you are not the only
fellow who is troubled with snobs,
there are others; your uncle Silas down
in New Y. has his own troubles with
snobs or rather with a snob and a snobby
snob at that. His name happens to be
Cjrriggs, and he is the special partner of
the firm of James Ross & Co. His
money can't be counted and his brains
can't be found, but what he lacks in
brains he makes up in snobbishness.
Have you ever seen a regiment of
Yankee militia drill ? If not you are
to be congratulated; I have. I saw
the seventy-first inspected some time
ago, and as our old friend R. H.
says :
"Now there aint no chorus 'ere to sing,
Nor there aint no band to play,
An' I wish I was dead 'fore I done wot I did.
Or saw what I seen that day."
I took the wife
with me. After wit-
nessing one or two
fearful and wonder-
ful evolutions, ac-
companied by much
running about and
shouting of officers,
she said, ''Oh, let us
go home, Ryerson
school can do bet-
ter than that." So
home we went,
grieving over what
we had seen.
Positively it was
awful, the sorriest
exhibition of ignor-
ance and incompet-
ence it has ever been
my unhappy lot to
witness. A sloppier
lot of shagnappies I
hope I may never see. The colonel in
command sat on his horse at one side,
while his major gave the commands,
smoking a big black cigar and chatting
affably with the inspecting officer. A
sergeant and a captain nearly came to
blows right beneath the gallery where
we were sitting over some question of
etiquette, and the whole mob broke
ranks and surrounded them. Some of
the officers even began to make bets on
the outcome, and then — oh. Bob —
what do you think — of all things — in
the headquarters of a regiment sup-
posed to be of soldiers — with officers in
uniform too— oh, it was pitiful — a
policeman — think of it — a policeman —
an ordinary, every-day, commonplace
city policeman, pushed his way through
the crowd and ordered officers, men
and all to quit their fooling. Such an
exhibition !
With all their talk and blow, their
flag-flapping, and ' holier than thou '
business, the people of the United
States are only half civilized; they talk
like savages, eat like savages, drink
like savages and in every other way
live and die like savages. They have
theil* good points, but —
Yours sincerely,
Frank.
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^M
m
^m
-'^— -^.T"'
(anada
FOR THE GAIVADIAIVS
A Depart men f For Guslness Men.
AT PORT ARTHUR
Ni^ht! and the thou!sand terrors!
The eyeless Dark, and the fears!
Night! and its wrack of blindness:
Darkness where Panic rears.
Army that stalks in the sunshine,
And shell that flies by day!
These we may face and fear not,
These we may meet in the way!
But night and its awful fearing,
As our searchlights stab in the Dark!
When Death abides in the Blackness,
Our gunners find no mark.
Impotent gun and gunners:
We pray for coming of Dawn.
And the sun comes up and finds us
With pallid faces and wan.
Day! and a sparkling ocean!
Wished-for: the ships of the foe!
Day! and the battle is welcome,
When blow is returned for blow!
But Night, and its blind forebodings!
The Dark! and its black, dead fear!
When our hearts are ground in torture!
God! Is the Day not near?
— Roden Kingsmill in Toronto News,
SLOWLY BUT SURELY
SLOWLY, but surely, the idea is per-
colating through the minds of the
press and the government of Great
Britain that the present rate of postage
on British newspapers and periodicals
mailed to Canada is a disgrace. Great
Britain charges 8 cents a pound to
mail this material to Canada; Canada
charges one-half cent a pound to send
the same class of mail matter to Great
Britain. Here is an editorial note
from the British- Canadian Review y of
London :
Recently the Duke of Argyll wrote to The
Times directing attention to the operation of
the Preferential Tariff in Canada, and adverted
to interesting details on the subject contrib-
uted by Mr. George Johnston, the head of the
Statistical Branch of the Department of
Agriculture, Ottawa. Perhaps one of the
most eloquently conceived passages in the
report was that which runs as follows: —
"There is one subject which is intimately
connected with the development of trade, to
which, however, your Government does not
appear to attach as much importance as I do.
Your newspapers do not circulate in Canada.
The United States papers do. Trade, we
say, follows the flag. It is even more true
that trade follows the advertisements of the
newspapers." This is edifying reading, but
it is nevertheless true, and no one acquainted
with Colonial trade can question the accuracy
of the statement. The time has arrived when
manufacturers must advertise over sea, and
no longer foster the feeling that such adver-
tising represents so much money thrown
away. Most Governments encourage trade
papers, but in England the policy is to impair
their usefulness by imposing a prohibitive rate
of postage. How long will it be before St.
Martin 's-le-Grand are able to ** think imper-
ially" on this really urgent matter?
The British manufacturer seems very
slow to move in this matter which so
vitally affects his future interests.
A VALUABLE CONCESSION
ONE of the points brought out dur-
ing the discussion on the Grand
Trunk Pacific, and one which should
not be lost sight of, was the value of
a single concession made to the Cana-
dian Pacific, in the original contract.
It was therein provided that " the rail-
191
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192
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
way, and all stations, station grounds,
workshops, buildings, yards and other
property, rolling stock and appurten-
ances required and used for the
construction and working thereof, and
the capital stock of the company, shall
be forever free from taxation by the
Dominion, or by any province hereafter
to be established, or by any municipal
corporation therein." This is a pretty
generous provision, and if it had been
given the C.P.R. for a limited period,
perhaps much objection could not have
been taken to it; but it is forever. No
government in the future will ever be
able to alter it. It will stand for all
time as a monument to the generosity
of the Conservative government that
gave it. Some one may say "Well,
what does it amount to anyhow ?" It
amounts to this, that on its 2,500 miles
of railway (taxed in the United States
at about $50 a mile) no taxes whatever
will be paid; on its station buildings,
yards, etc., no taxes will be paid. In
Winnipeg alone the company has a
most valuable and extensive property,
yet it will never contribute one cent to
the taxes of the province. Those who .
have given the matter some careful
study and attention, conclude that this
concession alone is worth in the neigh-
bourhood of one million dollars a year
to the company. Capitalized, it would
more than pay the entire cost of the
proposed Grand Trunk Pacific, from
ocean to ocean. As the value of the
C.P.R. increases from year to year,
the value of this concession will in-
crease accordingly. — Clinton N&w Era,
THE UNFORTUNATE OBJECTION TO
CHILDREN.
IF modern tendencies do not alter, it
would seem as if the rearing of chil-
dren in cities by any but the very poor
or the very rich will soon be a thing
of the past. The very poor live in
tenements, and no questions are raised
by the landlords as to whether they
have children or not. It is assumed
they have children, or will have them.
The very rich, on the other hand, live
in their own mansions, and if they care
to indulge in children there is no one
to say them nay. But the middle class
are hard put to it, if they have followed,
even on a modest scale, the Scriptural
injunction to increase and multiply.
Landlords look askance at them, and
sometimes absolutely refuse to have
any dealings with them. Domestic
servants, in like manner, regard a
large family as something intolerable,
and raise objections even to a couple
of children. President Roosevelt de-
livered an address to the people of the
United States about a year ago on
'' race suicide " ; but not a few fathers
and mothers are crying out to-day in
sore perplexity, "What are we goings
to do if the modern, civilized com-
munity refuses a place to our chil-
dren?" It has been hinted that,
amongst our neighbours, the trouble
is partly due to the fact that their chil-
dren are so ill- trained. Certainly it
the youngsters deserve the description
given of them by Mrs. Ira Husted
Harper, the prominent woman sufFra-
gist, one can understand that it would
take all a fond parent's partiality to
put up with their ill manners. Such
an explanation, however, is far from
covering the ground. Even here,
where children are perhaps passably
brought up, the objection to children
is taking shape, and increasing the diffi-
culties of those who have growing
families and only moderate means.
The great trouble is the sharp com-
petition of modern life. Society is or-
ganized to-day as for battle, and in a
battle, why — children are in the way.
It is unfortunate that it should be so,
and unfortunate also that time, far
from promising an early remedy, hints
rather that things may be worse before
they are better. — Montreal Star,
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CANADIAN
MAGAZINE
PUBLISHED BY
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THE
CANADIAN Magazine
/;■;-
-.. \
VOL. XXIII
TORONTO, JULY, 1SD4 jU ! f T' '■ - '>tNo. 3
THE LADIES* EMPIRE CLU&-Of
LONDON
By LALLY BERNARD
[jURING the season of 1902,
made memorable by the
festivities which attended
the coronation of Edward
the Seventh, the Ladies'
Empire Club sprang into existence
under the auspices of the Victoria
League, an organization of well-known
women in the British Isles who joined
forces with the idea of furthering the
Imperial ideal in social as well as polit-
ical circles.
Lady Jersey, the Hon. Mrs. Alfred
Lyttelton (wife of the present Secretary
for the Colonies), and Lady Mary
Lygon, who is attached to the house-
hold of the Princess of Wales, were
among those mainly instrumental in
originating and carrying out the idea.
During the summer of 1903 the Club
quarters were situated in Whitehall
Court, and it became a distinguished
rendezvous where visitors from all
parts of the Empire met in an easy and
informal manner the members of the
various committees connected with the
League, and the guests they invited to
their weekly at-homes.
So eminently successful was the re-
sult of the efforts made by those inter-
ested, that it was decided to establish
the club on a permanent footing, and
thanks to the untiring energy of Mrs.
Herbert Chamberlain (formerly a Miss
Williams, of Port Hope), to-day the
beautiful club at 69 Grosvenor Street
is the very centre of the social whirl-
pool of London life, and forms one of
the most charming meeting grounds
of all that is best in colonial and Brit-
ish society. Not ten minutes' walk
from the town house of the High Com-
missioner for Canada, in Grosvenor
Square, it is yet only a few yards
from the fashionable shopping locality
known to all Canadians, familiar with
London, as Old Bond Street.
Formerly 69 Grosvenor Street was
the residence of Lord Kensington,
whose family name is Edwardes, but
to-day the Duke of Westminster is the
distinguished landlord of the club
committee. A typical town house of
the best possible design, the rooms are
spacious and well proportioned, and
have retained a distinctly home-like
air. It is to be regretted that among
the photographs reproduced there is
not one of the fine entrance hall, with
its broad curving staircase and its
cheerful welcome of crimson-tinted
carpets, which shed a warm glow over
the ivory pannelling of the walls. The
head porter has a snug little office to
the right as you enter, and the tele-
phone is not the least of the luxuries
provided for the members. Opening
off the hall on the ground floor is a
well-proportioned dining-room, with
soft green and ivory again for the
scheme of decoration. Electroliers,
softened by creamy silk shades, pro-
duce the mellow glow of candle light
Frequently one will find the round
table in the dining-room set for a spe-
cial dinner party, for several of the
195
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196
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ladies' empire club, LONDON — READING-ROOM
habituees of the club, and especially its
colonial members, rent this room for
their dinner parties, as by paying the
sum of one guinea can secure it for the
evening.
Opening off the dining-room is the
lunch- room; here, again, is the same
effect of ivory and green, which har-
monizes well with the glitter of per-
fectly-kept glass and silver, and the
snowy cloths which cover the numerous
little tables, at which four or six peo-
ple can be comfortably accommodated.
Maids in the freshest of caps and
aprons move quietly to and fro, and
the buffet at the end of the room is set
exactly as it would be in a private
house, with cold joints and the in-
evitable **game pastie" of an English
luncheon table.
Between the hours of one and two
one will generally find the lunch-room
filled with the habituees of the club;
among them are Lady Aberdeen, who
is often accompanied by her husband;
the Duchess of Marlborough, the
Duchess of Northumberland, Lady
Edward Cecil, Mrs. Laurence Drum-
mond, Mrs. Molson Macpherson, the
Baroness Macdonald of Earnscliffe,
Lady Brassey and the Hon. Mrs.
Howard. Mrs. Everard Cotes (Sara
Jeanette Duncan) and a lady who
has lately arrived in London from
Cape Town, are among the occupants
of the club chambers at present.
Strolling through the club drawing-
room, of which a photograph is given,
one will find groups of well-known
people enjoying five o'clock tea in the
pretty room with its comfortable furni-
ture, covered with a rose-patterned
glazed chintz, and its many dainty
ectras, which give it the air of a room
in a private residence.
The room is so large that half a
dozen small tea parties can take place
at one time without danger of over-
crowding. Here, again, there is a
glow of deep rose, ivory and green.
Opening off the drawing is the mem-
bers' reading-room, furnished much on
the same lines as the drawing-room,
for when it is necessary for special
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THE LADIES' EMPIRE CLUB OF LONDON
197
LADIES EMPIRE CLUB, LONDON— LUNCHEON ROOM
entertainments these two rooms are
thrown into one with excellent effect.
However, on ordinary occasions you
will find solitary members enjoying
their tea in the quiet and seclusion
which this room affords with its com-
mand of **Silence," which comes out so
distinctly in the photograph. Tea is
served in green earthenware sets,
which contrast well with the dainty be-
sprigged china, quite in keeping with
the rose-patterned chintz of the furni-
ture. On side-tables are to be found
all the newspapers and periodicals of
the hour and several colonial publica-
tions, The Canadian Magazine con-
spicuous among them. The writing-
tables are fitted with the most up-to-
date appointments, and one hears the
ceaseless scratch of the fashionable
**quill," for members evidently find it
difficult to keep up with the eternal
rush of correspondence which assails
one in London. At the end of the cor-
ridor, on the same floor as the drawing-
room and reading-room, is the smok-
ing and card-room, where members
may take their friends for a quiet cup
of tea, while they smoke a veritable
* 'cigarette of peace" or make up a
game of bridge. After luncheon coffee
is often brought u^^to this southern
sunlit room with its masf of delicately-
tinted windows. There fs not a sug-
gestion of the masculine smoking den,
but pale green chintz takes the place of
the rose-patterned glory of the draw-
ing-room, and there is an air of clean-
ly, cheerful, home-like comfort. Coal
fires blaze all day in the open grates,
and hot-water coils keep the corridors
and rooms at a temperature which
Canadians in this land of fog and chill
appreciate fully.
The bedrooms, of which no photo-
graphs are procurable, are furnished,
like the rest of the club, with an idea
of absolute comfort as well as beauty.
Electric light, open fires, plenty of
bathrooms with the latest and most
luxurious appointments, and the best
attendance to be had in London, are
some of the advantages offered to
members. Twenty-five servants are
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198
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
ladies' empire club, LONDON— smoking AND CARD ROOMS
employed, and with the two secretaries,
a manager and cashier, club chambers
promise to be particularly comfortable.
Canada is represented in the list of
members by about a hundred and thirty
names, and the whole colonial list is
over three hundred. The club commit-
tee which has to do with the entertain-
ments decided to discontinue a series
of lectures they proposed giving:, as
they found that the club had so many
members who used it regularly that
the disturbance caused by special en-
tertainments was to be avoided.
There have been now and then obser-
vations made regarding the objects of
the club, wl>ich should be fully dis-
cussed in an article such as this; for it
is undoubtedly established with the idea
of bringing into close contact visitors
from the colonies with the wives and
daughters of men of prominence and
distinction in Great Britain.
There have been those who asserted
that making it so much a ** matter of
business '* is to take away the most
pronounced charm of social inter-
course. But those who raise this
objection fail to grasp that in so vast
a world as London the season has
always been managed upon more or
less business-like lines. Unless colo-
nial women who come to London have
the advantage of either great wealth or
the social prestige which surrounds
the wife of a Minister of the Crown,
they have little chance of finding them-
selves brought into close touch with
those whom doubtless they consider it a
pleasure and profit to meet. People,
especially women, might spend months
in this vast metropolis within a stone*s
throw of someone with whom they
might find they had much in common,
were it not for such a medium of com-
munication like the Ladies' Empire
Club, where there is a sub-committee
whose work it is to make known to
each pther members of society from all
parts of the Empire.
The work of the Ladies' Empire
Club is to draw together all that is
best in colonial and British society
circles without reference to political
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THE WHITE TRILLIUM
199
LADIES' EMPIRE CLUB, LONDON — THE DRAWING-ROOM
official prestige; and anyone who has
had experience of life in the great self-
governing colonies will admit that this
is a work worthy of encouragement.
Now comes the practical side of the
question; what renders one eligible for
membership in the Ladies' Empire
Club and what expense does it entail ?
The answer to this is very simple. By
writing to the secretary a list of mem-
bers may be procured, and if the person
desirous of becoming a member can
find the names of two of her friends or
acquaintances on the list she can apply
to them to propose and second her as
a member, one of them writing a note
of introduction to the secretary. On
receipt of the notice of her election she
will receive a note of the amount of
the entrance fee, which is one guinea,
and two guineas annual fee if in Eng-
land, and only ten shillings and six-
pence while resident in the colonies.
That its existence in its present and
permanent form is mainly due to the
untiring energy and adminstrative abil-
ity of a Canadian by birth is one, and
certainly not the least, of the reasons
why the Ladies' Empire Club should
receive the cordial support and excite
the interest of all Canadians who have
the welfare of the Empire at heart.
THE WHITE TRILLIUM
BY INA HAY
ARRAYED in glory, far surpassing king's.
Stately and pure, ye grace the woodland shade;
Toiling nor spinning, and all unafraid
Ye shame the folly of man's questionings.
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*' Occasionally a little schooner calls at the wharf for wood"
AN OUTING ON THE BAY OF FUNDY'S
SHORE
By F. C. SEARS*
HARDLY know how we
happened to decide on Mor-
den as a summer resort,
for we had been warned
beforehand that the mat-
tresses there were not of the Oster-
moor variety, and that it was custom-
ary among housekeepers to boil tea for
twenty minutes. But we were ready
for some hardships, and I am sure that
once we had seen the place not one in
the party would have gone elsewhere.
What we were looking for was not the
comforts of civilization but rest, and
there is more rest to the square inch in
Morden than in any other place I have
ever seen.-
It used to do a thriving business in
the days before the railroads, when
packets came regularly from Boston
and St. John, and when one or more
schooners could always be found at the
wharf loading with wood for American
markets. But now, though there is
still occasionally a little schooner calls
at the wharf for wood, everything but
the local trade has gone over the moun-
tain to the railroad in "the Valley,*'
and one walks along the grass-grown
streets or looks in through the dusty
windows of the old custom house and
meditates upon the fluctuations of
prosperity and the changefulness of
human ways.
I called it a summer resort, but it
isn't, and that is one of its chief
charms. One can wander about its
shores and through its woods and
along its roads and never meet anyone
except an occasional * 'native" till one
comes to feel a proprietorship in its
beauties and almost to resent the in-
trusion of the occasional picnics from
the back country.
It has its historical side, too, for
those who lean in that direction and
who like to wander over the scenes of
Nova Scotia's French tragedy. For
here, in the winter of 1755, one of the
returning bands of French Acadians
settled and set up a rude wooden cross
to mark the spot of their landing and
the scene of their sufferings. And
when the original cross rotted away it
* Photographs by the author ; see also Frontispiece in June number.
200
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AN OUTING ON THE BAY OF FUNDY'S SHORE
20I
was replaced by another which still
stands (the second generation only)
and gives a quaint and melancholy
interest to the place. For years the
village was known as ** French Cross,"
and only of late years has it received
its present name.
The chief charm of Morden, aside
from its restfulness and its exclusive-
ness, is its variety, its resourcefulness.
It is not like the ordinary watering
place where one has only the choice
between roaming along the beach and
going in bathing, or sitting by and
noting the grotesque bathing costumes
of his fellow-sufferers. Here one is
scarcely obliged to do the same thing
twice or to go a second time to the
same place. Even the beach is vari-
able. Most of it is rocky and rough,
due to the rocky nature of the cliffs
along the shore. But if one wants
sand there are stretches of beach as
smooth as a floor and as soft as a car-
pet, and here (if one is not made nerv-
ous by the newspaper stories of the fierce
attacks by dog-fish upon innocent chil-
dren and unfortunate men) one may
wade or bathe to one's heart's content.
One day we would take our dinners
and tramp a couple of miles down the
shore to the **East Gorge," and then,
following up a little brook which flows
down the gorge, we would come to an
ideal spot for a noon camp. The
brook flows over immense ledges of
flat rocks, many of which lie bare ex-
cept during spring freshets, and here
one can build his Are and make his
coffee secure from any danger of set-
ting Are to the neighbouring forest,
and so secluded that it would seem
one must be miles from a human habi-
tation. And after dinner had been
eaten and the birch-bark dishes had
been thrown into the Are, if we felt like
having a nap (and we generally did,
having slept only nine hours the night
before) we could wander down to the
shore with a blanket and a cushion and,
lying down upon the sand, fall asleep
to the murmur of the waves and the
sighing of the winds along the cliffs.
Another day, when we were not in
the mood for the salt water, we would
go off to the woods and revel in its
shady nooks and its beautiful ferns.
Some species of Aspidium and Osmun-
**Here, in the winter of 1755, ^^^ ^^ the returning band of Acadians settled and set
up a rude cross to mark the spot .... and when the original cross rotted away it was
replaced by another which still stands."
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
da I have never seen in greater pro-
fusion nor finer specimens. There is
one path in particular through a fine
stretch of birch and maple woods that
was an endless delight to us with its
borders of ferns, its beautiful banks of
Linnsa borealis, its patches of bunch-
berry (Cornus Canadensis) and the
countless other woodsy friends, some
of them known to us by name, and
others only by their faces.
a good view of the water, and read
from the pages of ** Kim *' (it was the
first year the book was out), or watch
some schooner beating up the bay.
Usually the schooner received more of
our attention than ** Kim," for what
was the use of struggling with such
passages as — ** It was a boy who came
to me in place of him who died, on
account of the merit which I had gained
when I bowed before the law within
"An ideal spot for a noon camp"
And then there was the road! When
other attractions failed it could always
be relied upon. It skirts the shores
for miles, never far from the water,
and always beautiful; winding among
tall spruce trees, passing over quaint
old bridges, and giving one continual
glimpses of the Bay of Fundy, with its
gulls and its ships and its tides. If
the day was warm we would sit down
under some spruce tree where we had
there," when one could lie down quietly
and chew spruce gum while speculat-
ing on whether the particular schooner
under observation had been to the
other side of the world with some of
our lumber, or was only up from New
York with a cargo of high-priced
anthracite coal.
But it was on the cool, crisp days of
early autumn that we frequented the
road most regularly and enjoyed it
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AN OUTING ON THE BAY OF FUNDY'S SHORE
203
most thoroughly. When the asters
had begun to fade and the golden
rod was in its prime; when the oc-
casional maples among the spruces
had lighted their beacon fires as a
warning to the wood folks that win-
ter was at hand, and when the winds
off the Bay were strong and cold and
bracing, then it was that we tramp-
ed along the road for hours, or sat
down by its side in a sunny spot and
read Van Dyke's ** Little Rivers," or
talked of home, or simply loafed in
silence.
If one cares for fish one should go
earlier than we did, for after the first
of August the dog-fish take posses-
sion of the Bay, and all less blood-
thirsty and more palatable fish re-
tire. Sometimes one can get a small
cod-fish, and occasionally one of
the weirs along shore captures some
**herrin'," but these are the excep-
tions, and the rule is that one eats
salt fish, or none at all. On our first
visit to the place, before we were fully
initiated into the local piscatorial
lore, we bought a small **hake," and
boiled it for supper at our camp-
fire on the shore. But after the meal
was over we were strongly inclined to
agree with our landlord, who remarked
when he saw us bringing the fish up
from the wharf — '* What you got
there, a hake? Why, they ain't no
** Under a spruce iree where there was a good view of the water "
>^ ^
'*Fall asleep to the sighing of the winds
along the cliffs"
good *cept to make boneless cod-fish of."
I don't know whether the sunsets at
Morden are particularly fine, or whether
it was only that our appreciation of all
the beauties of Nature had been sharp-
ened along with our appetites, but I
do know
that we
never failed
to be down
at the shore
when there
was likely
to be a sun-
set (I mean
a spectacu-
lar one),
and that
we enjoyed
them as we
had never
enjoyed
sunsets be-
fore.
Another
joy of the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
* There are stretches of beach as smooth as a floor "
evening was our nightly bonfire. Bon-
fires were almost as frequent as the
sunsets, quite as frequent as the beauti-
ful ones, and we could have them with
almost as little effort. The shore all
about Morden is lined with driftwood
varying in size from splintered shingles
to broken masts, and we had only to
pile it up, set it on fire, and then sit
down and enjoy it. And as the sunset
faded and the night shut down we piled
more wood upon our fire, and told
stories, or sang songs, or watched for
the revolving light on the Isle of Haut.
But the day finally came when we
had to leave it all, and after we had
paid a last visit to the French Cross,
and had watched the breakers for the
last time; when for the last time we had
** Heard the wild gulls screaming at the
turning of the tide,"
and had shaken hands with our moth-
erly landlady, we climbed into our
"wsLggon and drove slowly and rather
silently over the Mountain and down
into **the Valley" to the railroad sta-
tion. And as we looked back for the
last time to the blue waters of the Bay
and the little white lighthouse on the
Isle of Haut we felt like children leav-
ing home, and said that we must come
again.
And what of the expense of it all ?
Well, it wasn't excessive, as I think
you will agree when I say that the
share of the two members of the party
for whom I was personally responsible
amounted to $16.83 ^^^ two weeks,
and that included transportation
charges to and from the railroad and
the ten cents which we spent for that
**hake."
THE RURAL CALENDAR
BY INGLIS MORSE
STAGE after stage, sweet flowers come and go
To fill some corner of the Calendar.
The pale anemone, the rose so fair.
Breathe out their glories with the season's flow.
Dear Nature's chronicler each passing day
Reveals some beauty in the leafy dell —
Some kindly thought of God would gladly tell
To him who chances passing by that way.
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Q
n
i
AN ODE FOR THE CANADIAN
CONFEDERACY*
BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
AWAKE, my country, the hour is great with change!
Under this gloom which yet obscures the land,
From ice-blue strait and stern Laurentian range
To where giant peaks our western bounds command,
A deep voice stirs, vibrating in men's ears
As if their own hearts throbbed that thunder forth,
A sound wherein who hearkens wisely hears
The voice of the desire of this strong North, —
This North whose heart of fire
Yet knows not its desire
Clearly, but dreams, and murmurs in the dream.
The hour of dreams is done. Lo, on the hills the gleam!
Awake, my country, the hour of dreams is done!
Doubt not, nor dread the greatness of thy fate.
Tho' faint souls fear the keen, confronting sun.
And fain would bid the morn of splendour wait;
Tho' dreamers, rapt in starry visions, cry,
**Lo, yon thy future, yon thy faith, thy fame!"
And stretch vain hands to stars, thy fame is nigh,
Here in Canadian hearth, and home, and name; —
This name which yet shall grow
Till all the nations know
Us for a patriot people, heart and hand
Loyal to our native earth, — our own Canadian land!
O strong hearts, guarding the birthright of our glory,
Worth your best blood this heritage that ye guard!
Those mighty streams resplendent wnth our story,
These iron coasts by rage of seas unjarred, —
What fields of peace these bulwarks well secure!
What vales of plenty those calm floods supply!
Shall not our love this rough, sweet land make sure,
Her bounds preserve inviolate, though we die?
O strong hearts of the North,
Let flame your loyalty forth,
And put the craven and base to an open shame.
Till earth shall know the Child of Nations by her name!
o
9
* One of the earliest and most noted of Professor Roberts' poems.
Reproduced by permission in honour of Dominion Day.
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LITERARY PORTRAITS
By HALDANE MACFALL, Author of The Masterfolk;' ''The Wooings
of Jezebel Pettyfer,'' Etc.
III. — RICHARD WHITEING
STRONG, sturdy figure of
a man is Richard Whiteing
at a hale sixty years; and
his breezy belief in the in-
nate dignity and eventual
triumph of democracy is as hale as he.
To the world at large, Richard
Whiteing came to life in 1899 with a
novel, "No. 5, John Street;" but,
though he began to exist on the eve of
his sixtieth year for most of us, he was
already a personage in upper journal-
ism, and Paris knew him — as he knew
Paris — wondrous well.
Richard Whiteing hopes to see the
world as a vast garden for the average
man. His shrewd eyes see through
the pettiness of the claims, and the
aims, and the habits, and the pretence
of a mere privileged class to hold
dominion over the state. He shews
with genial statement but with dogged
insistence, with calm utterance — and
restrained emotion, yet nevertheless in-
sistently, that the living of life is not
for a class — that decency of life and en-
joyment of life, and the right to live
that life in a healthy, human way, are
the absolute birthright of every human
soul.
And with biting satire — for he is a
master of satire rather than of humour
— he shews the decadency that sets in,
and the wholesale misery that results,
from any one class shirking its respon-
sibilities of labour, and filching the
leisure from another class. For, be
you sure of this, whether aristocrat or
democrat, red-hot Nihilist or cloistral
nun, what one class repudiates in
labour, and filches in pleasure, by so
much shall another class pay the debt
of labour, and be filched of its pleasure.
There is world's work to be done;
and every man's hand must do it if it
shall be done sanely, and healthily in
the doing. If an enriched class shirk
its duties to the state, and live a life
of pleasure, the class below must do its
own work and the repudiated work of
the class above; and the heel of the re-
pudiated tyranny will grind the heaviest
on the lowest class of all, the injustice
being transmitted in ever-increasing^
violence. And the more populous the
state the more cruel the harshnessy
until the labourer shall be worn out
with excess of grey toil that knows no
joy, and the mighty populace rots like
a foetid thing.
So a large people, robbed of vitality
and a healthy day, becomes of less
worth than a small people of vigorous
life; for that people is the mightiest
that breeds the strongest average man.
And the law justifies itself utterly; for
the privileged class becomes bored by
its very excess of pleasure, by its
tedious having nothing to do — the very
thing for which it has striven turns to
the ashes of Dead Sea fruit in its
mouth. It does not even produce a
fine virile upper class, which might be
some source of comfort out of the cruel
murk.
These things Whiteing set down in
terms of art, and gave us '*No. 5, John
Street" — the millionaire's son wasting-
his years trying on suits of clothes^
dawdling through a scented elaborate
day, a day scented and elaborated to
keep the pit of boredom from yawning^
at his feet, paying large sums for polo
ponies to knock about a little ball on
the grass at Hurlingham, sums that
would keep a dozen families in health
and in freedom from the ghastly over-
toil that ruins the race — whilst, hard
by, in filthy garret and noisome den»
the sweated toiler grows blind and
starved and puny and demoralized, in
tragic and sordid days that are worse
than death.
Thus justice dies, and the law be-
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LITERARY PORTRAITS
207
RICHARD WHITEING, AUTHOR OF **NO. 5, JOHN STREET"
comes the law of the rich; until at last
some half- crazed fellow looks at the
fantastic thing he has been calling life,
looks up from the bench to which he
has been a tied slave, shades his half-
mad eyes with starved, lank fingers,
and sees the coach of the rich dawdler
go by, sees the bored shirker of toil
yawn at his fantastic life; and, poor
fool ! he rises and sets what little
peevish will remains to him to the mak-
ing of a bomb, flings the bomb
amongst innocent people, and jigs into
eternity at the end of a gallows rope
for the whim of his mad tomfoolery.
And the dawdler rolls on and on, and
yawns and yawns.
So Richard Whiteing, a big, burly
man, thunders for a big, burly, healthy
race. That large peoples shall set
small peoples under their heels becomes
every day more evident; and that the
large people that breeds the healthy
average man must overpower the large
people of the less healthy average man
goes also without proof; and that a
large people who have self-respect will
govern themselves and not be govern-
ed by a privileged class is a fact which
has perhaps even less need for proof;
therefore a great people must be a de-
mocracy.
And of a surety this man of large ob-
servation of men and peoples is right.
He has watched the wondrous develop-
ment of this England of ours during
the last thirty years — he has been in
close and intimate touch with the
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208
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
enormous but silent revolution in
France. He has seen England in-
crease by her imperial instinct, logical-
ly blind, but vitally right; he has seen
France healing herself and strengthen-
ing her shattered nerves by the reverse
process, by her clean-cut, logical tact.
And no man shall have seen these
things and dread the people.
It is for this reason I detest the
word Empire and prefer the word
Commonwealth. And that Common-
wealths must stand for the eventual
mastery of the world who shall deny ?
If you would see these things in pro-
portion you must look at man in the
large — trace him from the beginning —
and what is the tale that the years have
to tell us ?
Out of the mystic ways, the eager
life that is at the core of all existing
things, evolving from stage to stage,
found its supremest habitation in the
wondering creature that dropped from
its ape-like habits in the trees, and,
with ungainly straddle on the firm
earth, took its upright stand upon ten-
tative hind legs — falteringly, hesitat-
ingly, bodying itself forth as Man — the
Thinking Thing.
Life's cunning, with increasing cun-
ning, is become reason in this blinking
thing that thinks. It notes the hand's
use, and the value of that wondrous
thumb that is on the hand — to grip, to
throw, to hold. That thumb that, with
the brain's cunning for guidance, is to
enable the hand to chip tools and
weapons from the flint, and give con-
fidence to this naked, defenceless,
shivering being, and lead him from his
lair in the thicket and the cave out into
the open strife; that, for his body's
welfare and sustenance, with pitfall and
with gin, is to put to naught the lion's
strength, the wolfs tooth, the wild
boar's fury, so that he shall wrap the
skins of these about him against the
frost's nipping cold, and use their hides
to protect his feet; that hand that is to
strike fire from the chill flint and bring
warmth into the chattering winter, and
give rise to the potter's art; fire where-
by also the earth's metals at last yield-
ed their ductile strength to his en-
franchisement; that hand that is to
break the dog and horse to man's bid-
ding, and gather together flocks and
herds that he may roam the pastures of
the world; and, his wander-years being
done, that is to fashion the plough
whereby he shall settle on the land and
till the ruddy earth and gather in the
harvest to his body's use; that is to in-
vent the distaff and the loom to the
weaving of cloth; that is to knit the
fisher's net; that is to make the vast,
wide world tributary to him — the ele-
ments and the brutes, the valley and
the plain, and rock and stream and
raging seas, so that the exquisite eye
of man shall see the stars a myriad
leagues beyond the eagle's utmost ken,
his skill of transit make the swiftness
of the antelope a sluggard's pace, his
calculating hand cage the strength of
many horses in the machinery's wheel-
ed intricacies.
He increased his strength in the
close-knit brotherhood of the clan. He
foregathered into villages, uniting his
skill and strength, and the trades and
crafts arose to the mutual strengthen-
ing of the people. Power and increas-
ing fulness of life passed from the wild
fellow of the cavern to the wandering
tribe — passed from the wandering tribe
to the settled village — from them that
were in villages to them that fore-
gathered within the stout walls of the
populous city — from the city to the
state, whose might crumbled the city's
walls, grown inadequate against the
power of states — passed from the state
to the mighty race that is fenced about
to her uttermost frontiers solely by the
majestic bulwarks of her daring spirits.
Kingship has passed to the Com-
monweal, and the sceptre is in the
hands of the manhood of the people.
And in our inmost hearts we know this
thing to be true, be we Tory or Whig,
socialist or individualist. We may
sneer away ideals as fairy tales, but the
godhood in man leads to an ideal, and
they who fear to walk thereto must fall
and be trodden under foot by a master
race.
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CANADIAN CELEBRITIES
No. 52— RICHARD McBRIDE
HESE are the days of op-
portunity for the young"
man of ability and capacity,
when occasion is certain to
call him to commanding
position. Perhaps there is no Province
in Confederation where there is so
much need of a strong man as leader
of the people as in British Columbia,
and at last, after waiting long, it is
felt that the occasion has produced
him. Since the days of the late Hon.
John Robson that Province has lan-
guished under the confusion and un-
certainties which must ever exist under,
and seem to be inseparable from, non-
party government, the members of
which ignored the public and were not
responsible to any party or principle,
which might in itself have proved a
curb upon careless or culpable action.
The consequence was that the Province
was despoiled in every way possible.
There are those who extol non-party
government, holding that it presents
all the qualities that make for the gen-
eral good, but it was tried in the
Dominion, it was tried in Ontario in
the early days, it is now under trial in
the Northwest Territories, and it has
but recently ceased in British Colum-
bia. Everywhere a failure and a dis-
appointment by its own operations, it
was particularly disastrous in British
Columbia where, under its wing, the
public domain, which should now
prove an invaluable asset of the Prov-
ince, was sacrificed piecemeal to covet-
ous and rapacious political hacks who
were in public life evidently for what
they could get out of it. Farming
lands, timber lands, coal lands, mining
lands were alienated from public use
and became the private possession of
individuals to exploit for their own
profit. After Hon. John Turner, who
honestly tried to carry on an upright
Government, but was prevented by the
faults of those about him, there was a
brief spell of Hon. Mr. Semlin, who did
no better, and then came Hon. Joseph
Martin. It is said of Mr. Martin that
the chief cause of his unpopularity was
the firm hand he put forth to hold polit-
ical cormorants in check, but however
that may be, he left non-party govern-
ment more chaotic than it had been be-
fore his coming.
Hon. James Dunsmuir was not able
to improve matters, and it was during
his administration that the people
nearly lost the South Kootenay Pass
coal fields, contiguous to the Crow's
Nest Pass coal measures, and consider-
ed to be equally as valuable, the only
piece of coal land of consequence that
the public now own. Mr. Martin
made very warm times for Mr. Duns-
muir from the other side of the House,
and the latter, on the principle that if
one cannot destroy his enemy the next
best thing to do is to conciliate him,
made a compact with Mr. Martin that
hurt Mr. Dunsmuir far more in the
public esteem than it could possibly
benefit hint) had it been ever so popular.
Then came Col. Prior, formerly a
representative of the city of Victoria in
the Dominion Parliament. A strict
parliamentarian, an upright and con-
scientious man, the people hailed in
him one on whom they could reason-
ably repose hope to save them from
those who were eager to grasp such of
the public lands as were left, or to get
any sort of a concession that might
prove a marketable commodity. It
was during Col. Prior's premiership
that the granting of the South Koot-
enay coal lands to the C.P.R. by the
Dunsmuir Government came up for
decision. Col. Prior took high
ground on that matter and insisted on
certain members of the Cabinet resign-
ing. Then someone went over to the
Department of Public Works and
secured a copy of an account showing
that Col. Prior's firm had received pub-
lic money for a cable supplied for a
Government work, and with this and
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
RICHARD MCRRIDE, PREMIER OF BRITISH COLUMBIA
a copy of the contract his firm had
made Col. Prior was confronted. This
was clearly an infringement of the In-
dependence of Parliament Act, and the
Lieutenant-Governor called upon Col.
Prior to resign, which that gentleman
was forthwith constrained to do.
There sat in the Chamber for several
sessions, a quiet observer of these
many strange things and a ready
speaker when occasion required, a
young lawyer from New Westminster
named Richard McBride, known to
some as **Dick*' McBride, for he was
familiar to most and a favourite with
all. Commanding in appearance, al-
ways faultlessly dressed, invariably
engaging in manner, he was a striking
figure in that House, which has seen
many able and fine-looking men.
Mr. McBride is one of the native
born, **native sons" they are called out
there, the date of his nativity being
Dec. 15, 1870, and the place New
Westminster, where his father held
office under the Crown, so that he is
now in his thirty-fifth year. He was
primarily educated in the public and
high schools of his native place and
finished at Dalhousie University, Hali-
fax, N.S., whence he graduated LL.B.
in April, 1900. Returning to New
Westminster he entered law, in due
course was called to the bar and prac-
tised for some time. From his youth
he inclined to politics as an attractive
science worthy of mastery, and early
he took part in the discussion of pub-
lic questions, gaining considerable
prominence, so that in 1896 he was
looked upon as a promising man and
was nominated for the Commons in the
New Westminster district, but was
defeated by Mr. Auley Morrison.
However, he had had an opportunity
to show his power and win widespread
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CANADIAN CELEBRITIES
211
good- will, so that when he came be-
fore the people again in 1898, as a
caDdidate for the Provincial Legisla-
ture in the' riding of Dewdney, he was
easily elected, as he was again in 1900.
In that year Hon. Mr. DunsmiUr saw
in the good-looking and able young
lawyer from the banks of the Fraser a
supporter worthy of encouragement,
and he was appointed a member of the
Government, being assigned the port-
folio of Minister of Mines. Hon Mr.
DuDsmuir was inclined to conciliation
of his foes rather than to fighting them,
and when he called Mr. J. C. Brown,
of Richmond, into his Cabinet, Mr.
McBride objected, his protestation tak-
ing the form of resignation and he
went into opposition. He also went
over to Richmond and was instru-
mental in defeating Mr. Brown in his
own constituency when, as a Cabinet
minister, he went back for re-election.
He continued to lead the opposition
until the session of 1903, Col. Prior in
the meantime having succeeded Hon.
Mr. Dunsmuir. So that when Col.
Prior retired from the Hou.«(e, Mr. Mc-
Bride was by no means a novice. He
was not exactly " an old Parliamentary
hand," but he had the advantage of
some experience and it was seen that
he was on the way to the front benches.
The opposition, made up of men of all
parties, was not strong, but it con-
tained some good debating talent and
some likely politicians, of whom young
*• Billy" Mclnnes, of Alberni, was prob-
ably the brightest and cleverest. It
is understood that when Col. Prior
resigned he advised the Lieutenant-
Governor, Sir Henri Joli de Lotbiniere,
to call a member of the House, who
was a Conservative, to form a Minis-
try. Sir Henri is not a Conservative
and did not incline that way. Under
the circumstances he favoured the non-
party plan of government, though its
faults and weaknesses were plain and
it had brought the Province to the
verge of bankruptcy. The Lieutenant-
Governor was intent on keeping out
party politics, it was whispered, especi-
ally Conservative politics. But whom
should he call ? Now, there was young
McBride, able, wise beyond his years,
tactful and amiable, and these quali-
ties appealed to the courtly Sir Henri,
whom the Princess Louise compli-
mented as the best gentleman in Ca-
nada. Mr. McBride led a non-party
opposition, and if called would he not
form his Cabinet from among those
around him ? Here was the man, then,
to form the Government. So Mr. Mc-
Bride was called and accepted the
task. The way he went about it must
have been a disappointment to Sir
Henri. There was none who saw the
defects of non-party government in the
Province clearer than theyoung Premier
did. He had seen men of honour and
high purpose trying to do what was
impossible under that system, premiers
who had a working majority one day
and through some quibble lost it the
next. He had seen men for mere sel-
fish ends pass from one side of the
House to the other. He had passed
from one side to the other himself, but
that was on a matter of principle. Had
he consulted selfish interests he would
not have done so, but his duty to him-
self and to the people demanded that
he should so protest against what he
could not approve gf. He also saw
that the complications to which the
system gave rise, in putting the First
Minister at the mercy of a refractory
majority that might make exactions
the price of their support, paralyzed all
efforts at good government, destroyed
confidence in legislation, which to-day
was and to-morrow was not, and ren-
dered the Executive powerless to effect
any lasting good. For years the Prov-
ince had been the plaything and the
prey of designing politicians ready to
appropriate anything for themselves or
to secure the profits of appropriating
for others by act of Parliament. What
would stop this brigandage, restore
confidence in legislation, and serve to
rehabilitate the decaying credit and
diminishing honour of the Province,
rich in everything but men great and
courageous enough to fight the good
fight without any regard to self?
Party government would in a measure
serve ; federal party lines with a strong
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
government and a watchful opposition
ready to see and resent any improprie-
ties. Then members could not tumble
from one side of the House to the
other to further sordid ends. Repre-
sentatives would not only be respon-
sible to the House and to the people,
but to the party to which they be-
longed, the conventions that nominated
them, and particularly to the caucus,
which would discipline them while in
attendance at the House. And the re-
sult would be good and conscientious
men in Parliament, consistent with its
dignity and with the dignity of the
Province. '' Everything is on a colossal
scale in this magnificent Province,"
said Mr. Edward Hewitt in an impas-
sioned speech at a public gathering in
Vancouver. * 'Everything great — great
coal measures, great mineral deposits,
great timber areas, great fisheries ;
but there is one thing lacking, gentle-
men, and that is great men," a happy
' and accurate estimate of the condition
of affairs.
Premier McBride found that public
opinion was with him in declaring for
party lines. Weary of Cabinet shufHes,
weary of the handspring politicians
who tumbled from one side to the
other, weary of defeated governments,
harassed by frequent elections that
disturbed and disorganized everything
and effected no change for the better,
the people plainly saw that party gov-
ernment, whether Liberal or Conserva-
tive, would at least give something
tangible to depend upon, and Premier
McBride had their full sympathy in the
course he had chosen. Any change
would be better than the uncertainty
and confusion that had hitherto existed.
So, after considering the matter in
all its bearings, and after exhaustive
conferences with his friends and even
those opposed to him, Hon. Richard
McBride publicly declared for federal
party lines, being the first in the his-
tory of the Province to assay so bold
a step. He was a Conservative and
had always been so, but if the fortunes
of war decreed that he should go into
opposition, then into opposition he
would go and bend all his energies to
securing honest administration of af-
fairs, so that the Province wherein he
was born and bred . and was dear to
him should take the honourable position
in Confederation that was hers, and be
placed upon a stable basis that would
restore confidence in her industries,
revive those which through irksome
and unwise legislation were dead of
neglect or dormant through disuse,
and make the land one to which the
British and the Canadian investor
could come with the surety that his
undertakings would not be crippled by
quibbling legislative enactment or his
enterprise hampered by injurious im-
posts.
That the determination of the young
Premier to take the important step
his declaration foreshadowed should
arouse considerable comment and
criticism was to be expected. It dis-
turbed the old-timers, who were con-
tent to jog along under the old arrange-
ment, thinking it perfection, for was it
not as in days past, and all change is
suspicious, if not dangerous. Nes-
cient and narrow is the old-timer, as a
rule, wherever found. Apotheosis of
the past is the chief tenet of his
restricted creed. Modernity is intol-
erable to him, for nothing is equal to
what was long ago. Even the seasons
were better in the forties and the fifties,
before weather experts began juggling
with them. The suggestions and
opinions of newcomers, always mean-
ing change, are not to be tolerated.
They " make him sick." It is difficult
to grapple with this sort of prejudice,
hard at any time to overcome it.
Hon. Mr. McBride is no cheechahco
(newcomer) himself, but he does not
class with the grand old pioneers of
the Province, the men who almost
half a century before the stork left him
at his father's door in New Westmin-
ster, were pounding the cheerless trails
of the interior with slabs of pork and
sacks of flour on their backs, opening
up the country to enterprise and civ-
ilization. No, sir-ee. They were the
men who made British Columbia.
They know how much salseratus to put
in their bread, and they knew how ta
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CANADIAN CELEBRITIES
213
govern, too. So they did not take
kindly to the innovation the young
Premier sprang* on them. Halo! And
it also disturbed the happy family of
venerable old somnambulists. Whig
and Tory, who have always looked on
the Government in all its branches as
their especial prerogative and pasture.
Hon. Joseph Martin shook them up in
a dreadful way. No such ruthless
hand had ever been laid upon them.
But they got rid of him, the tormentor,
after a time, and were just about sink-
ing into repose and peace, when here
comes this young innovator, a ' ' native
son," too, to throw them again into
haste and hurry. He wanted ''sys-
tem." Why, wasn't there system
already? Wasn't everything going
on all right ? What more did he want?
If any of these plaints ever reached
the Premier he made no sign, but went
steadily along with his preparations.
Liberals and Conservatives organized
throughout the country, held their con-
ventions, nominated their candidates
and went into the campaign with enthus-
iasm. The Premier stumped the coun-
try from the boundary line to Atlin,
and as far in the interior as he could
conveniently go. Throughout, his
utterances were straightforward and
manly, on the higher plane of politics,
and containing no promises that might
compromise him. He threw out no
offers of material advantage to men
or municipalities that were to be paid
for in votes, but brought to them the
old message of Conservatism made new
by his eloquence, for he is a ready
speaker, though with a hard ring some-
times in his voice. He is tall and
massively built, an athletic figure.
His face is full, but pale; his eyes
dark and keen, though kindly, and his
hair is quite perceptibly streaked with
grey, which is the fashion nowadays;
a young face, if it be comely, and grey
hair being considered the most attrac-
tive combination possible, especially
among the women. He resembles Sir
John Macdonald and he resembles Sir
Wilfrid Laurier, and it has been sug-
gested that a composite picture of the
two would be a picture of Mr. McBride.
It was a hard-fought battle, and the
Socialists proved a disturbing element.
Both sides had fair organization and
worked hard for success. When the
returns were in it was found that the
McBride administration had a small
majority. Victoria had long been
regarded as a Conservative city, but
on this occasion the electors returned
four Liberals. Had Victoria gone with
the Premier he would have had a clear
working majority of ten or twelve,
which would have strengthened his
hands for what he has to do. As it is
he must depend upon the votes of the
Socialists, two in number, to carry
any measure he has in view. The old
•'graft** maybe still in evidence, and
may be in a position to demand favours,
but Premier McBride is a tactful man
who can move warily, and no one
doubts his ability to cope effectively
with any designing element. He has
declared his intention to guard the
Treasury and protect the public domain,
and it is the conviction of his many
friends that he will do it or fall defend-
ing the principle of public honesty.
Those who know him say that he is
not so fond of office as to stoop to any-
thing questionable to retain it and mar
a future big with promise to him. The
people, so far as can be learned, are
satisfied that he stands for truth and
uprightness in public life, and that he
will be faithful to his ideals. The true
man, knowing the emptiness and
deceit of popularity, does not seek to
conform in his acts to popular views,
because he is well aware that the path
of duty is not to please all men. There-
fore he must expect to meet the detrac-
tion of the scornful and the misrepre-
sentation of the malicious; and even if
slander wag her ugly and evil jaws at
him he must learn to suffer and be
silent. No need to go to Epectltus for
the lesson of resignation and fortitude;
for One far greater than he said:
' ' Beware when all men speak well of
thee,'' because he that puts forth his
hand to straighten the crooked ways
of this life will not be spoken well of,
but will be an offence to many.
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THE SCORING OF THE RAJA
By W. A, ERASER, Author of ''Thoroughbreds,'' ''Brave Hearts;' etc.
lURRAPARA was Raja of
his own domain after a
fashion. The domain of
Burrapara was on the Ma-
dras side, two days' steady
steaming from Calcutta.
His father, the old Raja, aided by a
bull-necked Dewan (Prime Minister),
had ground down the tyots (farmers)
for tax-money until the whole Raj had
become practically bankrupt.
Then the British ^zr^/ar (Government)
stepped in and platonically arranged
things. That's the Sirdar's preroga-
tive in India.
Under the new regime thirty-six
lakhs a year flowed into the coffers,
and the burden on the shoulders of the
ryots was lighter than it had been in
the memory of ten generations. The
Raja was allowed twelve lakhs a year
for himself and court, while the Sirdar
took the other twenty-four for manag-
ing the country, and incidentals.
The Double X Hussars were sta-
tioned at Burrapara as part of the
governing faculty. It was like sending
a public school to a watering place for
duty. There were white palaces, and
leisure Brahmins, and horses without
stint; a big polo ground, a fine race-
course, and a proper oriental atmos-
phere as background.
The Double X contingent had every-
thing in life to make them happy — ex-
cept the Burrapara Cup. Each year,
for three years, they had reached out
with a **by-your- leave-gentlemen" for
this bit of plate, but each year it had
gone back to grace the sideboard of
the Raja.
Burrapara himself was a sportsman
from the first tinkle of the bell. He
gathered leopards and kept them in a
cage; and once a year turned them out
on the plain for an improved pig-stick-
ing bout. This was at Christmas time.
The Double X took themselves to
horse and hunted ** Spots" with their
lances. In the three years only two
fellows had been mauled with sufficient
intentness to cause their death — that
is, two European officers; perhaps a
score of beaters and shikarries had
also been mauled, but they were His
Highness's subjects, and did not figure
on the European side of the ledger;
so it was good sport, and of a fair
interest.
The polo was as fast as they played
it in Tirhoot, which is like looking at
polo from the topmost pinnacle; and
not one of the Double X played a bit
faster or closer on the ball than Burra-
para himself.
From an earthly point of view it was
almost a paradise for men whose lines
were cast along that plane. As I have
said, the only unreasoning thing was
the Cup — they could not get that.
Yearly it sat big in pride of place at
the annual Race Meet. It was donat-
ed by the Raja for an open handicap
steeplechase of three miles. It was a
reactive donation, for his own stable
always won it. That was why the
Double X were sad.
Captain Woolson started it. **If
you fellows will back me up," he said,
'•we'll land that mug this try."
•'Going to ham-string the Raja's
horses?" Devlin asked. But Devlin
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THE SCORING OF THE RAJA
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had oo head for deep plots, Woolson
knew that; he was only a lieutenant
who danced well.
'*The Raja gets this crazy old plate
back every time because he's got the
best nags," Woolson observed with an
air of conviction.
"There may be something in that,"
Devlin answered, setting his glass
down with a sort of **hear! hear!"
ring.
* 'Devlin, you're an imbecile. You
make remarks that are not in the game.
What I mean is that we haven't a %^^''
gee in the whole bally troop that Bur-
rapara can't give pounds to, with, at
least, a dozen Arabs. "
"That's what's the matter. Wool-
son," one of the officers said; "we're
beaten before the race starts — that's
what's the matter with getting the
Cup."
"It's a great discovery," said Dev-
lin, sarcastically.
"Look here, youngster, shut up !"
said Captain Lutyens, wearily; "it's
too hot to blather. Woolson's got a
scheme, or he wouldn't be talking —
talking's all rot, anyway."
"Yes," continued Woolson, "the
Raja is as slick as a Brahmin. He gets
fifteen or twenty Arabs down from
Abdul Rahman at Bombay, gallops
them a bit — heaven knows where, we
never see the trial — and the best of the
lot is chucked into this handicap light,
being a green one, and beats all our
well-pounded nags out."
"Oh, fiddlesticks I" exclaimed Dev-
lin, impatiently; "all the fellows know
that. Your discovery is like going to
hear *Pinafore' — it's antique. Besides,
it's not the Raja at all; it's O'Neill that
does the trick. You're an unsophisti-
cated lot, and O'Neill knows just what
your nags can do. What do you sup-
pose the Raja keeps him for — his
beauty ? It's to play the English game
against you Feringhis."
Lutyens threw a box of matches at
Devlin's head by way of entreaty, and
the latter went out on the verandah
swearing there was a conspiracy to
keep him out of the good thing.
"Go on, Woolson," said Lutyens;
"tell us how to do up the Raja. That
young ass is out of it now, so go on
with the disclosure."
"Well, we'll have to get a horse
down from up country on the quiet to
do the trick. What do you think ?"
"Where'll you get him?" asked
Lutyens.
"Some of you fellows remember
Captain Frank, don't you — ^^Frank
Johnson ?"
"I do," said Lutyens, decisively.
"I've had to live in retirement, finan-
cially, since I joined him in a big
thing we were to pull off at Lucknow
once. But he's always got a fast
horse; generally — yes."
"Well, he's got one called Saladin
now, that you simply couldn't handi-
cap down to the form of the Raja's
lot."
The others waited, and Woolson
continued unravelling his brilliant plot.
" I saw a note in one of the Cal-
cutta papers about this Saladin brute,
and wrote up to Doyne. Doyne says
he's dicky on his legs, but he'd stand
a prep, for one race, especially in the
soft going here. He's never won yet,
because his legs wouldn't stand train-
ing on the Calcutta course. It's as
hot and hard as a lime-kiln, as you fel-
lows know. If we could buy him from
Captain Frank, and play him a bit in
polo here, he'd be sure to get in' the
handicap with a light weight, and we'd
even up things with His Highness."
" I'm in it, if it's all on the square,"
said Lutyens. "The Raja's a good
sort, and we must have it all straight."
" Gad! I'll tell him we're going to
win with Saladin, if we get him,"
exclaimed Woolson. " But we mustn't
let Captain Frank know about it; he'd
never let any sort of a game go through
unless he was Viceroy of it himself.
We'll get Doyne to buy the horse, and
Johnson can discover accidentally that
he's being sent up to Tirhoot among
the indigo sahibs, or to Heaven, or to
almost any place but here." .
"I'll stand doing Captain Frank
up," said Lutyens with candour. "His
hand is against every man, and, pro
tetn^ we'll send a punitive expedition
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
against him. I don't mind that a bit."
The truth of the matter as concern-
ing Woolson was, that there was a
standing feud between him and John-
son over some brilliant coup at Luck-
now, and he knew the Captain wouldn't
sell him a horse at any price.
So that was the inception of the plot.
Woolson was commissioned to acquire
Saladin. He wrote his friend Captain
Doyne to buy the horse as cheaply as
he could — warned him against Captain
Frank's rapacity, and explained that
Saladin would be supposed to go to
any part of the British Empire but
Burrapara.
Doyne executed his commission with
diplomatic enthusiasm. Johnson wanted
three thousand rupees. Doyne offered
two thousand and half the first purse
the horse won, plate not to count.
Theoretically that should have repre-
sented a considerable sum — in point of
fact Doyne chuckled softly to himself
over this commercial victory, for he
knew that Saladin would win only the
Cup at Burrapara and no prize money.
The horse was bought and shipped
in a roundabout way to his new
owners.
Woolson played him in polo just
twice, then pretended to make a dis-
covery. " I'm going to keep that
chestnut brute for the races," he as-
sured the Raja, ''he can gallop a bit."
Burrapara smiled pensively, for he
had Shahbaz in his stable, and it would
take a rare good horse to beat him.
O'Neill was an ex-Hussar officer who
had found the service too fast for his
limited income. Influential friends had
farmed him out to the Raja, and he
was what might be called commander-
in-chief of stables to His Highness.
He also made a discovery, the Raja
would never have found it out for him-
self.
" Look here, Your Highness," he
said, "the Mess has got hold of a
good thing at last. I don't know
where they puckerowed that white-
faced Arab, but he's a rare good one.
He'll beat Shahbaz for the Cup."
** And — ?" said the Raja, with ori-
ental control.
** We must play the game too, Your
Highness."
'*You know best, O'Neill Sahib.
It's in your department." The Raja
liked to play at officialdom.
" Shall I get a horse to beat themj
Your Highness ?"
'* What appropriation do you re-
quire?" asked Burrapara.
"Perhaps three or four thousand,
Your Higness."
** I will command the treasurer,"
replied the Raja, laconically.
Now as it happened, O'Neill, before
he left the service, had swung along
in the racing game beside Captain
Frank. '* Frank knows every horse
in India," he mused, " and if the rupees
are forthcoming, he'll get just what I
want." Though he had not the faint-
est idea that the Mess had got one
from Frank.
So he wrote by the first mail steam-
er to Johnson:
" The fellows down here have picked
up a horse somewhere called Saladin.
Do you know anything about him ? I
saw them try him out, and he galloped
like a wild boar. If you've got some-
thing in your stable to beat him I'll buy
it or lease it. It's all about the Raja's
Cup, three miles over timber, for
Arabs and Countrybreds. Captain
Woolson is at the bottom of it — I
think you'll remember him."
Johnson puckered his thin lips and
whistled long and softly to himself
when he read the letter. *' My aunt!"
he ejaculated, '* they played softly.
Who the thunder told Woolson about
Saladin ?"
He shoved the letter into his pocket,
lighted a cheroot, and played chess
with this new thing for three days.
Then he wrote to O'Neill:
"Woolson was born of commercial
parents — he gets this thing from his
father, who was a successful soap mer-
chant. They bought Saladin from me
to go up country. The Raja has my
sympathy if he hopes to beat the chest-
nut with anything he's got there. I
have nothing in my stable could look
at him over three miles of country.
" But all the same, I think we can
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THE SCORING OF THE RAJA
217
beat out this joint stock company. I've
got May Queen, and Saladin has al-
ways been worked with her. He's a
sluggish devil, and has notions. He
won't try a yard so long as the mare is
galloping beside him; that's because
they've worked together so much.
He'll just plug along about a neck in
front of her, and the more you ham-
mer him the sulkier he gets.
"If you've got something fairish
good in your stable, and the Raja will
pay well for the expedition, I'll send
the Queen down, and go myself later
on to ride her, for the edification of
our friend, the soap merchant's off-
spring. I'll guarantee you'll beat Sal-
adin, only you must have something
good enough to do up the others.
Don't let them know where you've got
the mare."
These aflFairs of state were duly laid
before the Raja by O'Neill in a general
way without too much attention to
detail. Kings as a rule don't care for
detail, they like to win, that's all.
Burrapara simply gleaned that by the
aid of a mare, a certain Captain Frank,
and his own Shahbaz, he was to win
once more his favourite toy; also tri-
umph over the united ingenuity of the
Double X Mess. The executive duties
he left to O'Neill; also spoke the neces-
sary word to the treasurer.
In two weeks May Queen was in the
Raja's stables, and the wise men who
had gone out of the West kpew not of
this back-wash in the tide of their
affairs.
Two weeks later Frank Johnson
sauntered into the Mess of the Double
X with his dehonnaire military swing,
as though he had just returned from a
week's shikarri, and lived there al-
ways.
''Great gattlings!" exclaimed Lut-
yens, "where in the name of all the
Brahmins did you come from, Johnson?
by all that's holy."
"Where's the balloon?" asked Dev-
lin.
"Nobody ever come here any more?"
asked Captain Frank, pitching into a
big chair after solemnly grabbing each
paw that was extended to him."
"Heaps of ordinary chaps, "answered
Lutyens.
"But visits like mine are like the
cherubs, eh?"
"He's tons like a cherub," muttered
Devlin; then aloud, "Here, boy, bring
a peg. Captain Sahib's dry."
"Came down to the fair to pick up
some smart polo ponies," Johnson
volunteered. * * Any racing at the fair?"
"Heaps," said Lutyens, thinking
dismally of the accursed fate that had
steered Captain Frank their way when
they had got it all cut and dried for
Saladin. "Make yourself at home,
Johnson," he said, "I've got to make
a call."
Then he posted down to Woolson's
bungalow. "Guess who's here?" he
said.
"Anybody big?"
"Size of an elephant."
"The C.C?"
"No— Johnson."
"Great heavens ! Not Captain
Frank?"
Lutyens nodded; Woolson turned
pale. "Does he know?" he asked
dismally.
"Don't think it. It's a pure fluke,
his coming; he's down after some polo
tats,
Woolson's face showed that he was
still mistrustful. "He'll stay for the
races, sure."
"Uh-hu!" grunted Lutyens.
"And he'll spot Saladin; he's got
devil-eyes, that chap."
"Uh-hu!" again assented Lutyens.
"We'll have to tell him, and beg
him to keep quiet."
"I think so."
"You'll have to put him up, Lut-
yens> to keep him out of their hands."
"All right."
So that night Captain Frank learned
to his great surprise that Saladin was
in Burrapara. Gracious ! but he was
surprised. How had it happened — he
had understood Doyne was sending
him up country ?
Woolson told the Captain a fairy
tale about that part of it; but he had to
be made free of the secret that they
hoped to win the Cup with Saladin.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
** Don't tell the Raja nor O'Neill,"
be&ged Lutyens. **The honour of the
Double X demands that we win that
Cup.''
*<ril tell nobody," said Captain
Frank. •* Let everybody find out
things for themselves — that's my way
of working."
They cracked a botlle of champagne
to this noble sentiment, and all that
belonged to the Double X was placed
at the disposal of Captain Frank during
his sojourn amongst them. The Raja
had a dozen bungalows splendidly
furnished, always at the command of
visitors; and Captain Frank assured
Lutyens that one of these had already
been placed at his disposal, so he de-
clined the Double X Captain's hospital-
ity. ** Hang it !" he said to himself,
''I can't eat his rations, and sleep in
his bed, and play against him; that's
too stiff an order."
As race day approached, events out-
lined themselves more clearly. The
Raja had three horses entered for
the Cup: Shahbaz, May Queen and
Ishmael. Woolson had Saladin, and
there were six other entries, not cal-
culated to have much bearing on the
history of the Cup.
••What's this May Queen thing?"
asked Lutyens.
Nobody knew; not even where she
had come from. She was a country-
bred without a record, that's all that
anybody could say. It didn't matter
anyway, Shahbaz was what they had
to beat, that was certain. O'Neill was
riding this pick of the stable himself.
Two evenings before the race O'Neill
came over to the Mess. He wanted
somebody to take the mount on May
Queen; the boy who was to have rid-
den her was ill, he explained.
••Johnson will ride for you," ex-
claimed Lutyens. ••He'd get paralysis
if he hadn't a mount at a meeting."
^•Is she any good ?" asked Captain
Frank.
'•We don't know much about her,"
answered O'Neill. • 'We'll declare to
win with Shahbaz, but the mare may
run well. The Raja'll be delighted if
you'll pilot her."
••It'll be better," said Lutyens, ''for
an outsider to ride than one of our fel-
lows."
••All right, I'll take the mount," ex-
claimed Captain Frank, "only I'd like
to school her a bit to-morrow."
You will see that the tea set had
been almost completed; because when
Fate undertakes to arrange matters,
there is seldom a hitch. Everybody
works for Fate— everybody.
Of course there was a big lottery
held at the Officers' Mess the eight
before the race; and the Burrapara
Cup was the main medium for a
plunge.
Woolson was suspicious. •• I don't
like it," he said to Lutyens. '• Frank
Johnson isn't down here for the benefit
of his health; and I'll swear he hasn't
bought a single tg^^-^^^. We don't
know anything about that mare; I've
tried to find out where she comes from,
but nobody knows."
•• Do you suppose she's good enough
to beat Saladin?" asked Lutyens^
doubtingly.
*• Well, Johnson rides her. "
••I'm the cause of that," answered
Lutyens.
••You may think so, but to me it
looks like a job. O'Neill and Captain
Frank knew each other in the old days..
If they back the mare in the lotteries^
I'm going to have a bit of it," asserted
Woolson.
This little cloud of suspicion broad-
ened out, until by the time the lotter-
ies were on, there was a strong tip
out that May Queen was a good things
for the Cup. The Mess ran Saladin
up to a steep figure when his chances
were sold in the lotteries.
Nobody but O'Neill w.anted to back
Shahbaz, and he went cheap. When
May Queen was put up, Johnson
laughingly made a bid, saying, •' I'd
back a mule if I rode him in a race."
••You're pretty slick, Mr. Frank,'*
Woolson muttered; and he bid on the
mare. This started it, and in the end
May Queen fetched nearly as good a
price as Saladin. It went that way alt
the evening; the Mess flattered them-
selves that they had stood by Saladin
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THE SCORING OF THE RAJA
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pretty well — ^and they had. Of course
Captain Frank couldn't well bid on
Saladin, he explained; it was their
preserve.
When they were finished at last,
Captain Frank said to Woolson: "Tve
got that brute Shahbaz in two lotter-
ies. You'd better take half to hedge
your money; you're loaded up with Sal-
adin."
" No, thanks," the other man said,
with a clever glint in the corner of his
eye, *' I've also got May Queen, your
mount; I've got enough."
" Do you want to part with a bit of
May Queen?" the Captain asked care-
lessly.
" Not an anna of it. I'll stick to
the lot. The Saladin money belongs
to the Mess; we bought him together,
but the May Queen business is nearly
all my own."
He looked sideways at Johnson
while he said this, watching the blonde-
mustached face narrowly; then he
spoke up with abrupt impetuousness,
''Johnson, look here, you know all
about that mare. Tell me whether it's
all right or not."
•* I think," answered Johnson, leis-
urely, pouring with judicious exact-
ness hsdf a bottle of soda into his peg
glass, *' that you fellows here are a
bally lot of sharks. You've bought all
of Saladin in the lotteries; the most
of May Queen, and then want to
know what's going to win. You'd
better have half of Shahbaz now, and
make a certainty."
'•No, thanks, I'm filled up."
•* Do you want to part with a bit of
Saladin ?"
" Can't do it. All the fellows are in
it— all the Mess."
•* I think you're missing it over
Shahbaz. O'Neill thinks he'll win,"
drawled the Captain, appearing terri-
bly solicitous for his enemy's welfare.
A little later Captain Frank rehears-
ed this scene to 0*Neill. *' I pretend-
ed to want a bit of Saladin or May
Queen, but Woolson wouldn't part
with any. Lord! but the father is big
in the son. Stuck to his pound of
flesh like a. proper Ishmaelite. Then I
offered him some of Shahbaz in the
lottery, but he shut up like a knife; he
was afraid I'd force it on him. To-
morrow after Shahbaz wins, I'll say to
him: ' I wanjted you to take a bit of
the good thing;' and he'll scowl, be-
cause he'll be sick at his stomach. I'll
teach them to get a good horse out of
me to do up a fine chap like the Raja,
and then pay for him out of stakes that
are not to be had."
Woolson's version of the same thing
to Lutyens was slightly different, which
only goes to show that human nature
is a complex machine.
"Johnson's got stuck with Shahbaz
in the lottery, and he's been trying to
unload on me. He wanted a piece of
Saladin. That's Captain Frank all
over; pokes his nose in here on our
good thing, roots around until he finds
out something, then wants a share."
" I wish he hadn't come," said Lut-
yens, abstractedly. " Heaven knows
what he'll do; he's like a Hindoo jug-
gler."
" He can only win out on May
Queen," retorted Woolson, crabbedly;
"and I've got the biggest part of her
in the lotteries myself."
" Yes, but the other fellows are all
down on Saladin, and it's the Cup
we're really after, not the rupees."
Woolson said nothing to this. The
Cup was all right as a Cup, but it
would suit him to land his big coup
over May Queen.
The next day at the race-course
Lieutenant Devlin sauntered up to
Captain Frank and said: " Little Ers-
kine, who is in the Seventh, over in
Colombo, is in a bit of a hole, and I'd
like to help him out. What I've got's
no good to him — 'tisn't enough."
" Say, youngster," drawled Johnson,
" are you one of the forty thieves that
got Saladin down here to do up O'Neill
and the Raja?"
"Oh, I think the fellows played fair
enough," answered Devliq, " but
whatever it was they didn't ask my
advice; in fact they drummed me out."
" What are the bookies laying
against Shahbaz?" queried Captain
Frank.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
•* Five to one," answered Devlin.
*< What does Erskine need?"
** Couple of thou. y I fancy."
** Have you got four hundred?"
•* Yes; but can Shahbaz— "
** Don't be a danfhfool," interrupted
Captain Frank, with profane brevity.
It was time to mount for the Burra-
para Cup. As they jogged down to
the post, Frank ranged alongside of
Woolson who was riding Saladin, and
said, '' You'd better take half of Shah-
baz still;" but Woolson tickled Saladin
with the spur, and swerved to one
side, pretending not to have heard.
O'Neill was riding Shahbaz, and to
him Johnson said: ** When we've gone
half the journey, you slip up in front
before Saladin gets his dander up. I'll
keep close beside him and he'll never
try a yard. But k%ep on in front, so
as not to draw him out.
For a mile and a half half a dozen of
the nine starters were pretty well up.
As the pace increased and Shahbaz
drew away in the lead, all of the others
but Saladin and May Queen commenced
to drop out of it. At two miles Shah-
baz was six lengths in front; Saladin
and May Queen were swinging along
under a steady pull, neck and neck.
*' He means to stick to me and beat
me out," mused Woolson.
'^ The blasted idiot is kidding him-
self," thought Johnson. **He thinks
he's got to hang to my coat-tails to
win."
Saladin was keeping his eye on May
Queen. He had been separated from
his stable chum for weeks, and now he
was galloping along beside her as in
the old days. His soft Arab heart was
glad. What a pity she couldn't gallop
a bit faster though. The thrill of
strength was in his muscles, and he
would like to unstring his great tend-
ons that soft warm day, and spurn the
red, yielding earth. His leg wasn't a
bit sore; ah, there was another horse
on in front there. Why couldn't May
Queen hurry up?
Soon his rider's legs commenced to
hitch at his ribs, and Woolson was
chirruping at him to move on. If
they'd hurry his chum he would.
Woolson was getting anxious.
There was only half a mile to go now,
and Shahbaz was still well in the lead.
He had ridden Saladin under a pull all
the time, and fancied that his horse
had a lot left in him; but now when he
shook him up he didn't respond.
"Go on!" he shouted to Captain
Frank. '* We'll never catch Shah-
baz."
•*Go on yourself," answered the
Captain, in schoolboy retort.
Woolson brought his whip down on
Saladin's flank. Stung by it the Arab
sprang forward, and for a second
Woolson's heart jumped with joy. He
felt the great muscles contract and
spread under him, and fancied that he
would soon overtake the dark bay io
front. The mare struggled too; Sala-
din heard her labouring at his quarters,
and waited patiently.
** Steady, you brutel" Captain Frank
ejaculated to the mare, but Saladin
knew the voice, and after that the maa
on his back amounted to very little in
the forces governing the race.
With whip and spur, and profane
appeals, Woolson laboured at his
mount, throwing him out of his stride
a dozen times. The mare struggled
and strained every nerve to keep up
with her stable companion. Saladin
rebelled against the fool who was rid-
ing him, and sulked with Arab per-
sistence; raced as he had always done
at home with the mare, neck and
neck.
Shahbaz was tiring badly. At the
last fence he nearly fell; striking the
top rail with his toes out of sheer
weariness. There was only a short
run in on the level now. Would he
last out? If Saladin ever rang'ed
alongside of him it would be all over,
Johnson knew that. In the strug^g^le
he would forget about May Queen,
and shoot by Shahbaz as though he
were dead.
Woolson was in an agony of sus-
pense. Shahbaz would certainly win,
and he might have saved his money
by taking Frank's offer. A sudden
resolve seized him. Saladin was sulk-
ing and he was worse beaten than the
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THE HEART OF THE WOODS
221
horse, he could not ride him out. He
would take Frank's offer now.
Bending his face around toward
Johnson he gasped ** Til — take — half
— Shahbaz— '* then he disappeared.
That final grab had effectually settled
the race. They were rising at the last
jump, and his movement caused Sala-
din to swerve. The horse struck the
rail heavily, and Woolson was shot out
of the saddle, and planted inches deep
in the soft earth on the outside of the
course.
It had looked a close thing from the
stand. **Saladin*ll win in a walk,"
the Mess fellows said just before I he
fall, ** Woolson's been waiting on
O'Neill, and now he'll come away and
win as he likes."
When Woolson vacated the saddle
so energetically a groan went up from
them. When Shahbaz slipped by the
judge's stand, three lengths in front of
May Queen, they groaned again; but
with official politeness cheered lustily
for the Raja.
His Highness sat complacently eye-
ing the excited people. It was a very
small thing to get agitated about, for
he had won, you see.
Captain Frank bought Saladin back
for a thousand rupees; beaten horses
go cheap.
r^~
^iriS^^^-v::;
THE HEART OF THE WOODS
BY WILLIAM J. FISCHER
rPHE wild heart of the woods ! therein is rest.
Above me sways a sky of whisp'ring green,
Around me far the silent shadows lean
And listen to tree-music ; in their nest,
The fond birds mother their young brood, so blest;
The purling brooks quench Summer's thirst ; the sheen
And shimmer on the changing, Sylvan scene
Is glorious to me, glad Nature's guest.
A thousand happy mem'ries slumber here
Beneath these oaks ; a thousand happy hopes
Flutter upon the bending leaves in fear.
And O the press of the cool grass ! The slopes
Of Peace stretch wide before mine vision clear
And slowly God*s white finger Heaven opes.
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LA MERE SAUVAGE
By GUY DE MA UPASSANT
HAD not been at Virelogne
for fifteen years. 1 went
back there in the autumn,
to shoot with my friend
Serval, who had at last re-
built his chateau, which had been de-
stroyed by the Prussians.
I loved that district very much. It
is one of those corners of the world
which have a sensuous charm for the
eyes. You love it with a bodily love.
We whom the country seduces, we
keep tender memories for certain
spring's, for certain woods, for certain
pools, for certain hills, seen very often
and which have stirred us like joyful
events. Sometimes our thoughts turn
back towards a corner in a forest, or
the end of a bank, or an orchard pow-
dered with flowers, seen but a single
time on some gay day; yet remaining
in our hearts like the images of certain
women met in the street on a spring*
mornin^^, with bright, transparent
dresses; and leaving in soul and body
an unappeased desire which is not to
be forgotten, a feeling that you have
just rubbed elbows with happiness.
At Virelogne I loved the whole
countryside, dotted with little woods,
and crossed by brooks which flashed
in the sun and looked like veins carry-
ing blood to the earth. You flshed in
them for crawflsh, trout and eels! Di-
vine happiness! You could bathe in
places, and you often found snipe
among the high grass which grew
along the borders of these slender
watercourses.
I was walking, lightly as a goat,
watching my two dogs ranging before
me. Serval, a hundred metres to my
right, was beatin^^ a field of lucern. I
turned the thicket which forms the
boundary af the wood of Sandres, and
I saw a cottage in ruins.
All of a sudden I remembered it as
I had seen it the last time, in 1869,
neat, covered with vines, with chickens
before the door. What sadder than a
dead house, with its skeleton standing*
upright, bare and sinister?
I also remembered that in it, one
very tiring day, the good woman had
given me a glass of wine to drink,
and that Serval had then told me the
history of its inhabitants. The father,
an old poacher, had been killed by the
gendarmes. The son, whom I had
once seen, was a tall, dry fellow, who
also passed for a ferocious destroyer
of game. People called them '* les
Sauvage.*'
Was that a name or a nickname ?
I hailed Serval. He came up with
his lon|^ strides like a crane.
I asked him:
"What's become of those people?"
And he told me this story:
When war was declared, the son
Sauvage, who was then thirty-three
years old, enlisted, leaving his mother
alone in the house. People did not
pity the old woman very much, because
she had money; they knew it.
But she remained quite alone in that
isolated dwelling so far from the vil-
lage, on the edge of the wood. She
was not afraid, however, being of the
same strain as her menfolk; a hardy
old woman, tall and thin, who laughed
seldom, and with whom one never
jested. The women of the fields laugh
but little in any case; that is men's
business, that! But they themselves
have sad and narrowed hearts, leadings
a melancholy, gloomy life. The peas-
ants learn a little boisterous merriment
at the tavern, but their helpmates re-
main grave, with countenances which
are always severe. The muscled of
their faces have never learned the
movements of the laugh.
La Mere Sauvage continued her or-
dinary existence in her cottage, which
was soon covered by the snows. She
came to the village once a week to g^et
bread and a little meat; then she re-
turned into her house. As there was
talk of wolves, she went out with a
* Copyright in the United States by Harper & Brothers.
222
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LA MERE SAW AGE
223
guD Upon her back-*— her son's gun,
rusty, and with butt worn by the rub-
bing of the hand; and she was strange
to see, the tall ^*Sauvage,'' a little
bent, going with slow strides over the
snow, the muzzle of the piece extend-
ing beyond the black head-dress, which
pressed close to her head and impris-
oned the white hair which no one had
ever seen.
One day a Prussian force arrived.
It was billeted upon the inhabitants
according to the property and re-
sources of each. Four were allotted to
the old woman, who was known to be
rich.
They were four great boys with
blonde skin, with blonde beards, with
blue eyes, who had remained stout
notwithstanding the fatigues which
they had endured already, and who,
also, though in a conquered country,
had remained kind and gentle. Alone
with this aged woman, they showed
themselves full of consideration, spar-
ing her, as much as they could, all ex-
penses and fatigue. They would be
seen, all four of them, making their
toilet round the well of a morning in
their shirt sleeves, splashing with great
swishes of water, under the crude day-
light of the snowy weather, their pink-
white Northman's flesh, while La Mere
Sauvagewent and came, making ready
the soup. Then they could be seen
cleaning the kitchen, rubbing the tiles,
splitting the wood, peeling the pota-
toes, doing up all the house-work, Jike
four good sons about their mother.
But the old woman thought always
of her own, so tall and thin, with his
hooked nose and his brown eyes, and
his heavy moustache which made a
roll of black hairs upon his lip. She
asked each day of each of the soldiers
who were installed beside her hearth:
** Do you know where the French
Marching Regiment No. 23 was sent ?
My boy is in it."
They answered, '* No, not know;
not know at all." And, understand-
ing her pain and her uneasiness — they
who had mothers, too, there at home
— they rendered her a thousand little
services. She loved them well, more-
over, her four enemies, since the peas-
antry feels no patriotic hatred; that
belongs to the upper class alone. The
humble, those who pay the most be-
cause they are poor, and because every
new burden crushes them down; those
who are killed in masses, who make
the true cannon's meat, because they
are so many; those, in fine, who suffer
most cruelly the atrocious miseries of
war, because they are the feeblest and
offer least resistance — they hardly un-
derstand at all those bellicose ardours,
that excitable sense of honour, or those
pretended political combinations which
in six months exhaust two nations, the
conqueror with the conquered.
They said on the country-side, in
speaking of the Germans of La Mere
Sauvage:
"They are four who have found a
soft place."
Now, one morning when the old
woman was alone in the house, she
perceived far off on the plain a man
coming towards her dwelling. Soon
she recognized him; it was the post-
man charged to distribute the letters.
He gave her a folded paper, and she
drew out of her case the spectacles
which she used for sewing; then she
read:
'* Madame Sauvage, — The present
letter is to tell you sad news. Your
boy Victor was killed yesterday by a
shell which near cut him in two. I
was just by, seeing that we ^tood next
each other in the company, and he
would talk to me about you to let you
know on the same day if anything
happened to him.
'* I took his watch, which was in his
pocket, to bring it back to you when
the war is done.
** I salute you very friendly,
''Cesairb Rivot,
'^ Soldier of the 2nd class, March. Reg.
No. 23."
She did not cry at all. She remained
motionless, so seized and stupefied
that she did not even suffer as yet.
She thought: ''Via Victor who is
killed now." Then little by little the
tears mounted to her eyes, and the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
sorrow caught her heart. The ideas
came to her one by one, dreadful, tor-
turing. She would never kiss him
again, her child, her big boy, never
again! The gendarmes had killed the
father, the Prussians had killed the
son. He had been cut in two by a
cannon ball. She seemed to see the
thing, the horrible thing: the head fall-
ing, the eyes open, while he chewed
the corner of his big moustache as he
always did in moments of anger.
What had they done with his body
afterwards ? If they had only let her
have her boy back as they had given
her back her husband — with the bullet
in the middle of his forehead!
But she heard a noise of voices. It
was the Prussians returning from the
village. She hid her letter very quick-
ly in her pocket, and she received them
quietly, with her ordinary face, having
had time to wipe her eyes.
They were laughing, all four, de-
lighted, since they brought with them
a fine rabbit — stolen, doubtless, and
they made signs to the old woman
that there was to be something good
to eat.
She set herself to work at once to
prepare breakfast; but when it came
to killing the rabbit, her heart failed
her. And yet it was not the first.
One of the soldiers struck it down
with a blow of his fist behind the ears«
The beast once dead, she separated
the red body from the skin; but the
sight of the blood she was touching
and which covered her hands, of the
warm blood which she felt cooling and
coagulating, made her tremble from
head to foot; and she kept seeing her
big boy cut in two, and quite red also,
like this still palpitating animal.
She set herself at table with the
Prussians, but she could not eat, not
even a mouthful. They devoured the
rabbit without troubling themselves
about her. She looked at them ask-
ance . without speaking, ripening a
thought, and with a face so impassible
that they perceived nothing.
All of a sudden she said: *' I don't
even know your names, and here's a
whole month that we've been togeth-
er." They understood, not without
difficulty, what she wanted, and told
their names. That was not sufficient;
they had written them for her on a
paper, with the addresses of their
families, and resting her spectacles on
her great nose, she considered that
strange handwriting, then folded the
sheet and put it in her pocket, on top
of the letter which told her of the death
of her son.
When the meal was ended she said
to the men:
*' I am going to work for you."
And she began to carry up hay into
the loft where they slept.
They were astonished at her taking
all this trouble; she explained to them
that thus they would not be so cold,
and they helped her. They heaped the
trusses of hay as high as the straw
roof; and in that manner they made a
sort of great chamber with four walls
of fodder, warm and perfumed, where
they should sleep splendidly.
At dinner one of them was worried
to see that La Mere Sauvage still ate
nothing. She told him that she had
the cramps. Then she kindled a good
fire to warm herself up, and the four
Germans mounted to their lodging
place by the ladder which served them
every night for this purpose.
As soon as they closed the trap the
old woman removed the ladder, then
opened the outside door noiselessly
and went back to look for more bun-
dles of straw, with which she filled her
kitchen. She went barefoot in the
snow so softly that no sound was
heard. From time to time she listened
to the sonorous and unequal snorings
of the four soldiers who were fast
asleep.
When she judged her preparations
to be sufficient, she threw one of the
bundles into the fireplace, and when it
was alight she scattered it over all the
others. Then she went outside again
and looked.
In a few seconds the whole interior
of the cottage was illumined with a
violent brightness and became a dread-
ful brasier, a gigantic fiery furnace,
whose brilliance spouted out of the
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LA MERE SAW AGE
narrow window and threw £i glittering
beam upon the snow.
Then a great cry issued from the
summit of the house; it was a clamour
of human shriekings, heart-rending
calls of anguish and of fear. At last,
the trap having fallen in, a whirlwind
of fire shot up into the loft, pierced the
straw roof, rose to the sky like the
immense flame of a torch, and all the
cottage flared.
Nothing more was heard therein
but the crackling of the fire, the
crackling sound of the walls, the
falling of the rafters. All of a sudden
the roof fell in, and the burning car-
cass of the dwelling hurled a great
plume of sparks into the air amid a
cloud of smoke.
The country, all white, lit up by the
(ire, shone like a cloth of silver tinted
with red.
A bell, far off, began to toll.
The old ''Sauvage" remained stand-
ing before her ruined dwelling, armed
with her gun, her son's gun, for fear
lest one of those men might escape.
When she saw that it was ended she
threw her weapon into the brasier. A
loud report rang back.
People were coming, the peasants,
Prussians.
They found the woman seated on the
trunk of a tree, calm and satisfied.
A German officer, who spoke French
like a son of France, demanded of
her:
** Where are your soldiers ?"
She extended her thin arm towards
the red heap of fire which was gradu-
ally going out, and she answered with
a strong voice:
"There."
They crowded round her. The Prus-
sian asked:
" How did it take fire ?"
She said:
'* It was I who set it on fire."
They did not believe her, they
thought that the sudden disaster had
made her crazy, so while all pressed
round and listened she told the thing
from one end to the other, from the
arrival of the letter to the last cry of
the men who were burned with her
house. She did not forget a detail of
all which she had felt, nor of all which
she had done.
When she had finished she drew two
pieces of paper from her pocket, and
to distinguish them by the last glim-
mers of the fire, she again adjusted her
spectacles; then she said, showing one:
''That, that is the death of Victor."
Showing the other, she added, indicat-
ing the red ruins with a bend of the
head: "That, that is their names, so
that you can write home." She calm-
ly held the white sheet out to the offi-
cer, who held her by the shoulders, and
she continued:
** You must write how it happened,
and you must say to their mothers that
it was I who did that, Victoire Simon,
la Sauvage! Do not forget."
The officer shouted some orders in
German. They seized her, they threw
her against the walls of the house,
still hot. Then twelve men drew up
quickly before her at twenty paces.
She did not move. She had under-
stood; she waited.
An. order rang out, followed instant-
ly by a long report. A belated shot
went off by itself after the others.
The old woman did not fall. She
sank as though they had mowed her
off her legs.
The Prussian officer approached.
She was almost cut in two, and in her
withered hand she held her letter
bathed in blood.
My friend Serval added:
** It was by way of reprisal that the
Germans destroyed the chateau of the
district, which belonged to me."
As for me, I thought of the mothers
of those four gentle fellows burned in
that house, and of the atrocious hero-
ism of that other mother shot against
the wall.
And I picked up a little stone, still
blackened by the flames.
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fF.
:!ri ;
HOW OUR
GRANDFATHERS
LIVED;
OR,
GLIMPSES OF CANADIAN
PIONEER LIFE
By FRANK YEIGH
|UT a century has been re-
quired to revolutionize the
way of living' in the English-
speaking part of Canada.
Rural Quebec has felt the
revolution to a much less degree, but
in Ontario the change from the condi-
tions of life of a hundred years ag'o has
been a radical one. It is, indeed,
difficult to realize in this age of rapid
transportation, applied science and
ready accessibility to the necessaries
as well as the luxuries of life, that
these simpler times of our forbears are
not more remote. Mr. Goldwin Smith
— now an octogenarian — bridged his
span of life when, in a reminiscent
mood, he was able to say: ''I have
talked with a man who talked to the
man who was Premier of England in
iSoi — to Addington about Pitt I
remember the rejoicing in England
over the Reform Bill. I remember
seeing the farm-buildings near my
father's house burned by raiders who
BAKE KETTLE
Opposed the introduction of threshing
machines. I recall, as a lad, seeing
the servants light the fire with a tinder
box. I have seen a man in the stocks.
I have heard the curfew. I taught his
present Majesty King Edward English
History when he was a lad."
In like manner there are thousands
still living in our own land who have
passed through experiences similar to
those here related; there are many
more, of a later generation, who have
had the domestic life of the early nine-
teenth century brought vividly to mind
by these aged eye-witnesses.
The advantages in thus recalling
some of the ways in which our grand-
fathers lived are obvious. The com-
parison will serve as a basts for
estimating the distance we have
advanced in little more than two
generations. It should, moreover, lead
us to recognize more fully the debt we
owe to those valiant pioneers for the
brave battles they fought under adverse
conditions. If Canada should ever
have a Hall of Fame or a Roll of
Immortals, these humble foundation-
builders would deserve a niche equally
with the heroes of the battle-field or
the leaders of State.
One may further realize the former
days by recalling that Canadians of 1800
had no railways, no steamboats, no
highways, in the modern sense, no
telegraphs or telephones, no harnessed
electricity, no ** horseless horse cars,"
no automobiles (thank Heaven I). They
were practically without clergymen.
226
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HOW OUR GRANDFATHERS LIVED
227
doctors, judges or lawyers, and the
schoolmaster was not yet abroad in
the land. The abundant crop of par-
liamentary representatives of to-day
(over 700 in all the legislative bodies
of Canada) had not then begun to
sprout in earnest. There was little
money in circulation with which to
carry on business; there were no stores
to speak of, and consequently no bar-
gain days! There was no gas and no
such thing as a match; the flint and
steel, or the brimstone-tipped pine stick
was relied upon for starting the flame.
There were no envelopes, no blotting-
paper, no steel pens, and the sand box
was in requisition to dry the ink; in
fact, there was a sad lack of what we
in this wiser generation regard as es-
sentials.
But there were compensating advan-
tages: a simplicity and wholesomeness
of life that ensured health and length
of days; so long a life that an old
family record speaks of the ** pre-
mature " death of a man of 84! There
was a rational enjoyment of God's best
blessings of nature, a hearty, unaffected
social life, and a sound moral sense of
rigfht and justice. There was mutual
self-help, a hospitality that was not
measured by motive, a burdened table of
good things where it was bad form to
refuse what was offered, no matter
what nature's penalty might be. In a
word, a sane mode of life was lived
that produced strong men and brave
women.
Brave in truth were our grand-
mothers— brave in what they endured
in the loneliness and isolation of
pioneer life; in the dangers, too, when
the weird howl of the hungry wolf was
heard in the forest near the clearing, or
when the stealthy-stepping Indian
would glide like an apparition, un-
heralded and unannounced, into the
log home. Brave were they in the
spirit in which sorrows were borne and
testing trials met.
The ladies of a century ago did not,
fortunately, have to rely upon the
fashion-plates of a daily paper. Native
feminine talent transformed their lim-
ited material into serviceable gar-
ments. At first the hides of the fur-
bearing animals, obtained from the
Indians in barter, were the chief source
of clothing supply. One can easily
imagine that a rosy-cheeked, bright-
eyed, well-built lassie of 1800 would,
when clad in deerskin petticoats and
skirts and squirrel-skin bonnet, break
masculine hearts quite as disastrously as
if she had worn creations of a modern
modiste. And the utility of a deer-
skin petticoat, that could not be torn
by a rough journey through the woods,
or the turning of a deerskin suit into a
warm bed-cover at night, will com-
mend itself to every feminine descend-
ant of our mothers' mothers.
A MACHINE FOR BREAKING THE FLAX-
USUALLV KNOWN AS A HACKLE.
No fancy-pointed patent shoes
dressed their feet, for there were no
tanners, and for many a year no shoe-
maker, until itinerant St. Crispins
came on the scene — shoemakers on
circuit, like the preacher and the
schoolmaster of the early days. They
were the days, indeed, when the set-
tler was a many-sided character, for he
was perforce carpenter and blacksmith
and shoemaker and tailor if need be
rolled in one.
Let us draw back the curtains of
Time and peep into a pioneer log home.
The rough-walled retreat is but rudely
furnished and its floor is carpeted with
skins or rag-carpets. A ladder leads
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
to the attic, where any num-
ber of men-foik can be stoweJ
away at night-time. The
hearthstone is the altar of the
home, and seated in a semi-
circle around it are its priest-
esses. Busy, busy, always
busy are the women-folk, amid
a buzz of talk that mingles
with the hum of the distaff or
the song of the spinning-wheel.
There sits Grandmother in
front of the deeply recessed fire-
place which glows cheerily red
from the giant back log that
required the strength of a horse
to draw it to the cabin door. A
benediction is in Grandmoth-
er's placid face, an inspiration
in her smile, and evident peace
of heart under her quaint
starched cap. Stirring tales
the dear old mother can tell —
of the flight of her Loyalist family from
the New England home to the shores
of Quinte, involving hardships that
show what stuff Grandmother was
made of! Tales too of the trials of
the first days in the new land, when a
fresh start in life had to be made.
There too sits the dear Mother in
homespun, and even as a hen gathereth
her chickens under her wing, so
Mother, by the loadstone of love,
attracts her
brood to her
skirts. All the
bonny chil-
dren are early
taugh t to
work. That
we can see as
we gaze into
the interior, to
spin and sew
if they be girls;
to fashion
tools and im-
plements if
they be boys.
To the right
is a group of
daugh t e rs,
breaking,
scutching and
WAFFLE IRONS
GOURD DIPPERS
spinning flax from which will
come the table linen and wear-
ing apparel that will last a life-
time. Sewing and knitting ma-
chines are unknown, but Na-
ture's deft hands are the im-
plements that produce the best
of goods. So work away the
lassies.
What a wonder-palace the
log-ribbed room is ! Who
would ever dream that such an
inventory of articles could be
crowded in the little apart-
ment ! On the fireplace shelf
are the heirlooms in crockery,
travelled crockery mind you,
for it has seen foreign lands
and crossed the Atlantic in a
clipper ship and afterwards
heard the cannon of a Revolu-
tion. The light of the burning
logs is added to by the tallow
dips and the candles, and there, sure
enough, is the candle box and the candle
mould. The gourd dipper hangs from
its nail, and the skimmer for use in the
sugaring off is its neighbour. They
have often worked together in the
maple woods. Shining warming pans
speak of warm feet. Waffle irons too,
and rU warrant the waffles tasted as
good as the word suggests. And by
the same token, Til wager the hand-
made tooth puller gave as much pain
as its black outline and size indicate.
Strong enough it appears to pull the
molar of a mastodon.
Ah, what is this ? Shocking, shock-
ing,— a toddy ladle, as brazen in its
boldness as the capacious punch bowl
itself ! Pewter plates, mugs and
spoons are in a military line. Spoons
of wood too and forks of iron and buck-
handled knives that saw action three
times a day. And there is a contrivance
for cutting loaf sugar in the days when
it was sold in large chunks.
All these utensils and many more
are dignifled by a place on the shelf.
Above hang hand-made lanterns. Old
guns that invariably kicked — and
killed. Powder horns, discoloured with
years of use. A tin dinner horn of
prodigious length that has called many
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HOW OUR GRANDFATHERS LIVED
229
a labourer from the stump-strewn fields
to bis meals. Axe heads, a score of
them it seems, and the oldest boy over
in the corner, whittling something, can
sink the biggest axe of the lot up to
its hilt in a soft elm or maple at one
blow, for those were the days of muscle
— applied muscle.
The apple- parer and bone gouge for
coring the apples bring up visions of
the days of the social bee — apple bees,
husking bees, quilting bees, logging
and clearing and barn raising bees — all
of them times of social gayety, especi-
ally when the wandering fiddler could
be waylaid for the events. Good old-
fashioned fun did our grandfolks get
out of life on these great occasions,
even though the wag-at-the-wall clock
solemnly ticked its disapproval.
The bushy-browed settler bends to
stir up the slumbering fire with the
long-handled poker, for a fierce heat
is radiated from the deep bed of
embers, and as the eye follows his
movements it catches sight
of the world of pots and
pans and kettles that swing
from the great cranes. If
we are patient we will later
have a glimpse of the sacred
hour of cooking in the old
log cabin palace of peace;
we will see, too, how the
mothers of the former time
did without new fangled
cooking stoves and gas
ranges and patent ovens and
cook books and ready-to-be-
eaten mysteries. In this old
bake kettle is being placed
a big batch of dough, and
kettle and contents are then
buried in the red-hot ashes,
and covered, lid and all,
with the glowing embers.
What stores of goodies
issue from the hearth! Cook-
ies— what a world of mean-
ing the word still holds!
Cakes, corn and wheat and
honey and pound cakes.
Pies, deep, luscious, abid-
ing! Pasties, meat pasties
at that, the receipt for
AN EARLY FRYING-PAN
which came from Devon. And the
pasties have the finest of browned
juice on the curled-up edges of the
paste. Honey in the comb. That
implies bees and bee - keeping, and
the blowing of horns and pounding
of tin cans to keep the bees from
going away when swarming. But
there are more good things in this an-
cient menu, such as apple tarts and
apple sauce, and dried-apple dishes
in galore; pease puddings, sourkrout,
ginger bread, fat fowl roasted on the
turning spits, meats fried in the long-
handled pans to a cheerful tune from
the spluttering gravy, like unto the
succulent sound that Tiny Tim must
have heard when the pudding sang in
its kettle on that mythical Christmas
of long ago.
And now the family surround the
table, when one realizes that the sol-
emn words of Governor Simcoe were
true, '*that the
spirit of the
young country
seemed to be in
favour of men
who dined in
common with
their servants!"
Poor Simcoe, and
** The world of pots and pans and kettles "
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
he trying to plant a modified aristocracy
in the land by appointing military offi-
cers to government positions !
These early century menus some-
times meant sacrifice and cost, when
the settler had to carry his limited
store of wheat a hundred miles or
more to the nearest mill in order to
bring back a precious supply of flour.
Nature, however, was often prodigal
in her gifts of food when the wild
fruits were in abundance, and game
and fish abounded. But there was
not always a full pantry. Terrible
must have been the experiences of the
Hungry Year of 1788 in Canada, when
the frogs saved many a life from star-
vation, and the newly-planted potato
THE OX-BOW WHICH PLAYED SO LARGE A PART IN CLEAR
ING THE FOREST LANDS OF EASTERN CANADA
had to be dug up and eaten. There
were times, too, when the wheat froze
in the head and wheat bread was in
consequence an absent article of diet.
On other occasions the government
supply trains were overtaken by the
winter and frozen up, as a result of
which the settlers who were depending
upon the expected stock were com-
pelled to have recourse to the buds of
basswood trees, and beef bones were
loaned from neighbour to neighbour as
stock for soup. Both the white men
and the Indian relied much upon the
animal and fish life. The waters
teemed with fish as the air with birds,
and the woods with small game as
well as deer and moose. There was
no limit to the wild ducks, especially
along the water stretches of the Quinte
shore. Famous sport had our grand-
fathers when they were young, shoot-
ing black squirrels, trapping wild pig-
eons, spearing salmon, or scooping
them up in prodigious numbers. The
skilful red man was wont to spear the
fish by torchlight as he stood alert in
the prow of his canoe. The hunting
of the larger game and the attempt to
exterminate the wolves also led to
many an exciting adventure in the
depths of a Canadian forest.
Eating has ever gone with drinking,
and the toddy ladle we saw in the cabin
home forces the further truth to be
chronicled that in the beginning days
of Canada's life whisky drinking was
not unknown; when, in fact, it was
consumed by the bowl full,
and when a man's stand-
ard of capacity was placed
at two quarts. At twenty-
five cents per quart the cost
was not excessive. For
years there was but one
distillery between York
and Kingston, and as an
accessory to the stronger
liquid, as soon as orchards
began to bear, the cider
jug was a feature of the
capacious cellars, along
with the barrels of winter
apples and the bins of roots
and vegetables.
Drinking was a feature of the vari-
ous **bees." On the occasion of a
barn raising a man would mount the
top plate of the skeleton structure,
swing a bottle three times around his
head and throw it in the air. If it fell
unbroken it meant good luck, evidenc-
ing one of the many superstitions pre-
valent in the early times. Other forms of
superstitions were the supposed sight of
a winding sheet in a candle fiame, or
that the howling of a dog at the moon
meant trouble for the inmates of the
house, or when a sudden shudder came
over one it foretold that an enemy was
walking over the spot which would later
be one*s grave. May was regarded as
an unlucky month in which to be mar-
ried, and it was equally unlucky to kill
hogs in the wane of the moon.
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HOW OUR GRANDFATHERS LIVED
231
Speaking of weddings reminds one
that there was marrying and giving in
marriage in the same pioneer times.
The courting was sometimes carried
on in Indian fashion, when the fair
Hehe would run through the forest in
a pretended effort to escape the pur-
suing lover, who invariably caught his
victim. A kiss was the sign of vic-
tory, and the wedding soon after closed
the romantic chapter.
There were difficulties innumerable
in the way of these
trusty hearts of old.
For years there were
scarce half a score
of clergymen oi the
established church
in Upper Canadaau-
thorized to perform
the marriage cere-
mony. A few mag-
istrates held the
same power. To-
day all that a mod-
ern lover needs is a
two-dollar bill for a
license — and a girl!
But in 1800 and
thereabouts the
happy couples were
sometimes compel-
led to travel long
distances on foot or
on horseback to
wait on minister or
magistrate. An in-
teresting tale of
early Canadian
life records the
fact that rings
were as scarce as
clergymen or magistrates. One offi-
cial, rather than turn away an ard-
ent couple that had walked twenty
miles to his settlement, found on a
primitive pair of skates a rough steel
ring. Though a homely substitute the
bride was told she must perforce wear
it to make the ceremony^binding, and
wear it she did for many!* a long year
thereafter, and the trophy is a highly-
prized heirloom among her descend-
ants to-day.
It is interesting to read in this con-
nection of the dowries of our grand-
mothers. A generous one was a piece
of land, a colt, a heifer, a yoke of
steers, two sheep, some pigs, a linen
chest with bed and bedding and feather
ticks, crockery and cutlery and some
hand-made furniture. The wedding fee
stood for a long time at one dollar.
All the furniture of the time was
perforce hand-made, such as chairs
with elm-back seats, tables of rough
hewn boards, and bedsteads — four
A SPINNING WHEEL USED BY OUR GRANDMOTHERS
posters — cut from the native lumber.
Sometimes the baby's cradle was the
sap trough of the sugar season, but
lined with blankets and resting on
rockers, our pioneer babies slept sound-
ly and never did the trough hold a
sweeter burden.
Practically all the implements were
hand-made — the reels for winding
yarn, the hand looms, the trunks made
of bark and the beehives of plaited
straw, the plows with wooden frames
and wrought iron mould boards, the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
primitive harrows made of the butt end
of a tree which the oxen hauled
around the stumps in the process of
** bushing in." Scythes, cradles and
flails were the precursors of mowers,
reapers and threshing machines. The
wheat was sometimes ground at home
by pounding or crushing it in the
burnt-out hollow of a stump, a block
of wood attached to a springing pole
acting as a pestle in the mortar cavity.
The ways our grandfathers travelled
is in interesting contrast with modern
methods. The horseback way was for
years the only means of covering long
distances through the bush, with the
oats in the saddle bags, a gun or toma-
hawk for weapons, and provision for
camping out if night overtook the
traveller. Journeying by water was
in bateaux or flat-bottomed Durham
boats. After a lime, along with bet-
ter roads, came the springless wag-
gons with boxes resting directly on the
axles and chairs for the use of the pas-
sengers in the body-racking journey.
A SMALLER-SIZED SPINNING WHEEL
A YARN REEL
A writer describes the old waggons
and stage coaches *'as rolling and
tumbling along a detestable road,
pitching like a scow among the break-
ers of a lake storm, with road knee-
deep in mud and an impenetrable for-
est on either side." It of necessity
took weeks of time to cover the dis-
tance, for example, between York and
Kingston or Niagara.
The market prices for commodities
also throw a suggestive light on the
days of our grandfathers. An ancient
price list of 1804, quoted by Canniff
Haight, reads as follows: A gimlet 50
cents, a padlock $1.50, a jack knife $1,
calico, $1.50 per yard; tea, eight to ten
shillings a pound, Halifax currency;
needles, a penny each; ball of cotton,
yd; board of pigs, $1 a week; an axe,
$2.50; salt, 6d a lb.
The early store was a departmental
store in miniature, and bartering was
the chief feature of trade. An old
lady of my acquintance has told of
buying a farm with a saddle, and a
yoke of oxen in another case was
traded for 200 acres of land. Butter,
cheese, homespun clothing, lumber,
pork, ox hides, molasses, shingles and
potash were a widely varied list of
articles used in trading. In the Tal-
bot Settlement in 181 7 it took eighteen
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WIND SONG
233
bushels of wheat to buy a barrel of
salt and one bushel of wheat for a yard
of cotton. The first clocks were $40
each. Before the clock days a line
was cut in the floor, and when the
sun's rays reached the meridian height
they were cast along this mark through
a crack in the door to indicate the noon
hour.
Pens cost thirty cents each, but the
easily secured quill long held its supre-
macy. Postage was payable accord-
ing to distance — not exceeding sixty
miles, 4d; 100 miles, yd; 200 miles, gd;
and greater distances in proportion.
One should not forget in this picture
of pioneer life the first church, with
men and women sitting on opposite
sides, when the circuit rider made his
infrequent visits and preached sermons
of a length commensurate with the
rarity of their delivery. One of the
humorous bits of the early Upper Ca-
nadian archives is the request sent to
London that a ** pious " missionary be
sent out to the benighted settlers of
Upper Canada. The first log school
houses also deserve a word, with the
huge box stove in the centre around
which long wooden benches were
ranged, too high for the feet of the
toddlers to reach the floor. Tired and
sleepy, the tiny students sometimes
created a panic by tumbling off their
uncomfortable perch!
The administration of justice was
accomplished under arduous condi-
tions. There were few gaols or court-
houses ; accommodation for jurors,
lawyers and others was most limited,
and many a trial was held under the
trees or in a tent. Jurors were often
compelled to journey fifty miles or more,
and to take ten or more days before
returning home. When the first gaol
was built in York it was made large
enough to hold debtors as well as
criminals of a deeper dye, the gaoler
receiving 5s. a day salary, and is. 3d
daily for the maintenance of each pris-
oner.
Such are some of the glimpses of
early Canadian days. All honour to
our sturdy pioneers for the work they
accomplished, the characters they
evolved, and the rich heritage they
passed on to their children. May we
of the twentieth century be as true to
our conscience and country as our
grandfathers — and grandmothers!
WIND SONG
BY INGLIS MORSE
PLAY out thy song, O wind of Time,
O wind of a thousand years!
Life's solemn joys and falling tears
Are in thy voice sublime.
Play out, O wind, play out thy song,
To hopes that have forever fled
Into the land of the long lost dead.
Whither have passed earth's throng!
Play out thy song of olden days,
Of dreams that nevermore shall be:
In murmuring repose, both full and free,
Now haste thee on thy various ways!
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■"^55355
J:^:^•€^!^:^i^^^^;/:^^^
A HISTORY IN TWELVE
INSTALMENTS '^ ^ ^
CHAPTER VII — LOW EBB OF BRITISH FORTUNES— MILITARY APATHY IN
MIDDLE AND SOUTHERN COLONIES— OFFICIAL CORRUPTION IN CANADA
— MAGNETIC INFLUENCE OF PITT ON BRITISH AFFAIRS — WOLFE AND
AMHERST-SIEGE AND CAPTURE OF LOUISBOURG- REJOICINGS IN ENG-
LAND — 1757-1768.
JOUDON, it will be remem-
bered, received the fateful
news from Fort William
Henry while yet upon the
ocean, and it must have
been a bitter moment when -he realized
how completely he had been outgener-
alled. For the bloodless failure in
Nova Scotia he could blame others; for
the bloody tragedy on Lake George his
own tactics were wholly responsible.
He relieved his temper by vowing ven-
geance against Montcalm as an abettor
of savages and murderers, and sent
word by a fast-sailing craft to Webb to
hold out at Fort Edward till he could
send him reinforcements. It was the
last of August when he landed his
troops at New York. But the French,
as we have seen, had, for urgent rea-
sons, abandoned all attempts at an ad-
vance up the Hudson, and had return-
ed in part to Canada to save the
harvest, and in part to Ticonderoga to
make that post secure. Loudon is sup-
posed even now to have cherished
thoughts of attacking the French fort-
ress, but if so he soon abandoned them
on a closer view of the situation. In
intention he was the very soul of
energy; in execution he remains,
whether from his fault or his ill-fortune,
the typical sluggard of the Seven
Years' War in America.
Sir William Johnson had joined
Webb at Fort Edward, with a small
band of his Indians, just about the
time of the fall of William Henry, and
a day or two after, but all too late, raw
militia had begun to pour in by the
hundred. Their behaviour, however,
was so mutinous, and their conduct so
riotous, that Webb was glad enough
to dispense with such troops and dis-
band them, now that their services
were no longer needed.
Only one incident of moment mark'-
ed this depressing autumn of a year of
disgrace and failure, and that of a kind
by no means calculated to lighten the
general gloom on the Mohawk River.
Near those forts that Webb had, it
will be remembered, destroyed in his
panic after the fall of Oswego, was a
234
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
235
WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM
To whose energy and determination much of the later success oi the war was due
colony of thrifty Palatine Germans.
Far behind civilization, in this beauti-
ful^and fertile valley, these industrious
settlers had been labouring for forty
years, and were now a community of
some three hundred souls, well situat-
ed in comfortable homesteads and till-
ing valuable farms. It was a popular
creed among French-Canadians that
the Germans of the British colonies
were dissatisfied — a queer delusion
in regard to people who revelled
in an independence far more novel to
them than to Englishmen. By way of
encouraging other Germans to crave
for the paternal government of France,
one, De Bellaitre, was despatched by
Vaudreuil with a hundred Canadians
and two hundred Indians to read them
a lesson. Paddling up the St. Law-
rence from Montreal, past the now
familiar Thousand Islands into Lake
Ontario, they struck southward to
Lake Oneida, crossed the portage of
the Mohawk watershed, and fell sud-
denly upon the unhappy Teutons, kill-
ing every man that resisted, destroy-
ing their live stock, and carrying off
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
more than a hundred women and
children into captivity. A small British
detachment from Fort Herkimer hur-
ried up, but they were too late, and in
any case too weak. Lord Howe, com-
manding further down at Schenectady,
was strong enough, but he arrived
much too late and found nothing but
the smoking ruins of homesteads and
hundreds of slaughtered sheep and
cattle.
In the meanwhile, the Indian heroes
of Fort William Henry, who had been
almost as great a curse to their friends
as to their foes, paraded their wretch-
ed prisoners at Montreal, and by no
means yielded them all up to the not
very insistent overtures of Vaudreuil.
One of these English captives, writes
Bougainville who was just then on the
spot, they killed in presence of the
whole town and forced his miserable
companions to devour. It is even as-
serted by French writers that mothers
were compelled to eat portions of their
own children. Bougainville shudder-
ed at the horrors he saw, but was im-
potent, for Canadian public opinion
was lenient to these little Indian
vagaries so long as other people were
the victims. Bigot the Intendant, no
man of war but an expert in crooked
contracts, calmly stated that the
savages must be kept in good humour
at any cost. Vaudreuil, for his part,
was quite proud of his magnanimity in
purchasing, with Government brandy,
the lives of men who had surrendered
to his troops under signed articles;
while Indians reeled in crowds about
the rude streets of Montreal, insolent,
offensive, drunken and dangerous.
It was a gloomy enough winter, this
one of 1757-58, in the British provinces.
Loudon's troops had retired to isolat-
ed snowbound forts, or to their much-
grudged but no longer disputed quar-
ters in the principal cities. It was the
lowest point ever touched by Anglo-
Saxon fortunes in America. Oswego
and William Henry were scenes of
desolation; Louisbourg was contempt-
uous and defiant behind its bristling
rows of cannon and massive ramparts;
the colonists even of New England
were disheartened and disillusioned as
to the invincibility of British troops,
and sore both with their generals and
their officers. The frontiers of the
more southern colonies still ran with
blood, and the labours of a generation
on a belt of country nearly four hundred
miles in length had been swept away.
Washington, struggling almost alone
with provincial legislatures, as twenty
years later he struggled quite alone
with the continental congress, had
patiently striven to mitigate the mis-
ery. He had now been over two years
at the frontier village of Winchester,
in the valley of Virginia, eating his
heart out in vain endeavours to stem
the hordes of Indians led by French-
men, who swarmed across the stricken
borders of the middle colonies. ''I
have been posted," he wrote in the
preceding^ spring, **for more than
twenty months on our cold and barren
frontiers to perform, I think I may say,
an impossibility; that is, to protect
from the cruel incursions of a crafty,
savage enemy a line of inhabitants
more than three hundred and fifty
miles in extent, with a force inadequate
to the task." He was still only twen-
ty-five, but a head and shoulders above
arty colonial soldier outside New Eng-
land. He had no chance of gain or
glory with his thousand or so "poor
whites," ill-paid and discontented, and
recruited wilh infinite difficulty. His
officers were often of no better discip-
line. One of them, he tells us, sent
word on being ordered to his post,
that he could not come, as his wife, his
family and his corn crop all required
his attention. **Such," says Washing-
ton, in a white heat, **is the example
of the officers, such the behaviour ^{
the men, and upon such circumstances
the safety of this country depends."
Three colonies, Pennsylvania, Mary-
land and Virginia, with some half-
million whites, to say nothing of rude
and populous North Carolina, could
only wring from this large population
a wretched, half-hearted militia of
2,000 men, recruited largely from the
burnt-out victims of the frontier.
Where, one may well ask, were the
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
237
squires of Virginia and
Maryland, who swarm-
ed along the eastern
counties of both prov-
inces, and whose com-
fortable homesteads
reached to within a
hundred miles of the
scene of this bloody
war, of their fellow-
countrymen's long
^i^ony, and of the im-
pudent invasion of
their country? To
mention a dozen ortwo
youngmen of this class
who rallied to Wash-
ington, would only be
to aggravate the case,
if such were possible,
in the face of these
statistics. Men of sub-
stance and education,
accustomed to horse
and gun, ** outdoor'*
men in fact or nothing,
were quietly staying
at home by thousands
unstirred by feelings of
patriotism or venge-
ance, and apparently
untouched by the clash
of arms and the ordin-
ary martial instincts of
youth. Their grand-
fathers had fought;
their sons were to
fight; their descend-
ants were in the last
civil war to be among
the bravest of the
brave. What was this
generation doing at "^ g
such a moment? ^q
Washington, whose 3
local patriotism no one n
will dispute, and whose -?
example shone like a |H
beacon light amid the ^
gloom, cursed them |
often and soundly
in his letters for do-
ing nothing. It was
fortunate for these colonies
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that
came forward to save them.
Pitt people of Maryland and Virginia are
The more than most other Americans proud
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238
THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
GENERAL AMHERST
FROM Reynold's stbbl engraving
of their ancestry — not because they
were thrifty merchants, for they ignor-
ed commerce; not because they were
famous navigators, for they were not
sea-goers; not because they were
thrifty farmers who made two blades of
grass grow where one had grown be-
fore, for they were sad economists in
this respect. The sentiment is by way
of being that which holds good in
Europe, and regards ancestry in the
accepted sense of the word as synonym-
ous with an aptitude for arms. But
the tobacco squires of the Seven Years'
War were lamentably wanting in those
generous and martial impulses which
supply almost the only motive for pride
of race, and quite the only one where
high culture and learning are absent,
as was here the case.
There is no travers*
ing the facts; they
are bare and patent,
and it has always
seemed to us one of
the most unaccount-
able incidents of
American history.
Think of South Af-
rica to-day, and, in-
deed, the parallel is
not an inapt one,
save that in the rac-
ial struggle for
North America the
prize was greater.
Think of the colon-
ists of every class
so lately crowding
by thousands to the
front, though none
of their women,
children orj friends
have been scalped
and murdered. In-
deed, for that mat-
ter, turn to Massa-
chusetts at that day,
who alone sent to
the front ten or fif-
teen thousand close-
fisted, industrious
farmers, men whose
labour was their
daily bread, and
whose absence from the homestead was,
for the most part, a serious matter.
** Nothing," wrote Washington,
•* keeps me from resignation but the
imminent danger to my country. The
supplicating tears of the women and
moving petitions of the men melt me
into such deadly sorrow, that I sol-
emnly declare, if I know my own mind,
I could offer myself a willing sacrifice
to the butchering enemy, provided that
would contribute to the people's ease."
Washington was giving up a life of
ease and comfort, neglecting an estate
to whose management he was greatly
attached, and those field sports which,
next to fighting, were the passion of
his life. Here, however, on this shag-
gy blood-stained frontier, without
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
239
means to fight effectively,
neither glory nor even thanks
were to be gained. He lost
his temper more than once,
and wrote incontrovertible
but imprudent letters to the
Virginian authorities at Wil-
liamsburg, falling thereby
into the bad books of the
gentlemen who regarded the
state of the frontier with
such prodigious equanimity.
At one time an obscure
Maryland captain of thirty
men, who held a king's com-
mission, had claimed prece-
dence of the young colonel
and commander of the West-
em Frontier. Washington
had then ridden the whole
way to Boston — four hun-
dred miles — to put the mat-
ter straight with Shirley,
then in chief authority, and
ensure against its recur-
rence.
The Canadians, too, had
suflfered greatly this winter.
The troops were reduced to
small rations of horse flesh,
and only the tact and abil-
ity of de L6vis averted a
general mutiny. The small
social circles of Quebec
and Montreal, however,
lacked for nothing, but
danced and dined, and intrigued and
sleighed in merry parties along the
frozen river or through the silent
pine woods white with their load of
snow. The Bureaucracy, with Bigot
at their head, followed with unabated
ardour their career of fraud and trick-
ery. Never were a king and his sub-
jects more flagrantly cheated. They
sold their provisions sent from France
for the relief of the colony and pocket-
ed the money. They fixed the price
of grain by law, bought it all up, and
then retailed it at famine prices. They
sold Government supplies twice over
in collusion with the officers who had
to sign the receipts. They purchased
supplies for the king's use through so
many confederate hands, that the price
ADMIRAL EDWARD BOSCAWEN
AFrSR THE PAINTING BY J. RBYNOLDS
was three or four times that originally
paid for the articles. They intercepted
food granted by the king to the hapless
Acadian refugees, sold the larger part
back to his Majesty at high prices, and
half starved the miserable outcasts on
what was left. The command of an
outlying fort was regarded as equiva-
lent to a small fortune, and bestowed
accordingly on friends and relatives.
The usual method was to give vouch-
ers for twice or three times the amount
of stores actually purchased, and to
exchange the Government presents
sent to the Indians for skins or turs.
It may well be asked. What was Mont-
calm himself, the soul of honour, say-
ing to all this ? As a matter of fact,
his position under de Vaudreuil, who was
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
himself mixed up in the frauds, was
sufficiently delicate to make interfer-
ence difficult. But Montcalm did take
means to acquaint the home Govern-
ment,already suspicious of the vast sums
of money demanded, with the condition
ofafFairs, and their eyes gradually open-
ed. It is not perhaps wholly to be won-
dered that France lost some of her en-
thusiasm for an ofifspring that tugged
so incessantly at the strings of her al-
most empty purse, and showed so little
profit for the investment. The letters
to Vaudreuil from his Government at
last grew harsh and threatening, as
the rascality of the whole business be-
gan to dawn on the hitherto credulous
Ministers of Marine. But it was too
late. Pitt was about to settle down to
the greatest work ever achieved by a
British Minister. The colony was now
entering a death-struggle in which
ledgers and vouchers would be for the
time forgotten; and there is good rea-
son to suppose that many a tell-tale
document went to feed the flames
which the British torch or shell fire had
ignited. But the corruption of the
Canadian civil officials, and a great
number of the colony officers, did not
interfere with the actual fighting power
of the military machine, which was
itself a hardy plant. Food and clothes
and ammunition for men on active ser-
vice were always forthcoming. If they
had not been, Montcalm would have
asked the reason why, with a forcible
authority, such as in civil affairs he
could not call to his aid.
It was at the opening of the ever-
memorable year of 1758 that Pitt, free
at last from the shackles of his prede-
cessor's plans and his predeces-
sor's generals, applied his great
gifts to the task before him. Great
Britain was sunk in despondency.
Chesterfield declared we were ** no
longer a nation." If any man had
asserted that in two or three years we
should take our place at the head of all
nations, never as a world-power to
again relinquish it, he would have been
accounted as fit only for Bedlam.
Many, though they could not know
what we do now of the then state of
France and Canada, thought we should
be stripped of all influence, if not of
all foothold in America, while the fear
in England of a French invasion re-
turned as regularly as the summer
leaves.
To free his mind of all paltry cares,
Pitt had flung the sordid part of gov-
ernment to Newcastle, who revelled in
it. It was part of his bargain that
where the honour or the safety of the
nation were at stake his word was law,
his appointments indisputable; and he
proceeded at once with fine audacity to
make hay of privilege, of family inter-
est, of seniority. The incapables were
relegated to obscurity, and those who
might have caused annoyance were
soothed by Newcastle with pensions,
compliments, or honours, which most
of them perhaps preferred to service in
America. Small pay and brevet rank
for his servants seems to have been,
too, a sop that Pitt felt it advisable,
for the sake of peace, to throw to the
long list of rejected generals, who
seem therein to have found some
strange consolation. Fortunately,
Pitt's young men had, for the most
part, souls above titles or lucre, though
Wolfe was hard pushed for necessary
money; and his widowed mother, after
his death, made futile representations
to the Government for some financial
recognition of the work done by the
conqueror of Quebec. Pitt's plans were
not merely to reduce France to her
legitimate sphere in America and make
her harmless against Great Britain in
Europe, but to drive her wholly from
the western hemisphere, to wrest from
her every possession she had outside
her own borders, to leave her crushed,
humiliated, and powerless for aggres-
sion.
To this end he appealed with im-
passioned fervour to the heart of Eng-
land, and by a genius unequalled in
our history, and that seems to us who
have not seen or heard him, almost
magical, brought an apparently half-
moribund nation into an ecstasy of
patriotic ardour. Every one who ap-
proached the great statesman caught
the inspiration, and every man in Eng-
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
241
land who had a heart at all felt the
blood coursing^ more briskly through
it. Those whom Pitt called especially
to serve him and maintain the nation's
honour went to the camp or to the
wilderness with an enthusiasm for
their chief and country, and a sense of
exhilaration that had for long been
almost wholly lacking.
With Pitt's assistance in Europe to
the gallant Frederick of Prussia we
have nothing to do. It will be suffi-
cient to say that the Duke of Cumber-
land's reverses were fully avenged, and
the French repulsed at every point.
As for the American campaign,
which constitutes our story, there was
not much opening for strategic inge-
nuity. As I have endeavoured, with
perhaps undue reiteration, to make
clear, there were certain routes through
the northern wilderness by which
French and English could seriously at-
tack each other, and none other.
There was nothing new, therefore, in
Pitt's American programme for 1758
but the men who were to carry it out
and the kind of spirit which animated
them. Above all, there was the en-
thusiasm with which the people of
England — particularly of that substan-
tial but unrepresented middle class to
whom Pitt's personality appealed —
supported him with heart and purse.
Loudon had abandoned the only true
path of American warfare, probably
because his predecessor, Shirley, a
civilian, had planned it, and, as we
have seen, left New York almost de-
fenceless in a vain attempt to gather
laurels upon distant shores. It was
no thanks to him that the colony was
still in British hands, and Pitt now re-
called him with contemptuous brevity.
It is only to be regretted that Aber-
cromby did not sail in the same ship.
The excuse put forward for making
such concession to routine in the mat-
ter of this luckless officer is, that Pitt
felt secure in the fact that the young
Lord Howe, one of the most rising
soldiers and most estimable characters
in the British army, would be at his
right hand; but, however probable, this
is, after all, but a matter of conjecture.
Ticonderoga, Fort Duquesne and
Louisbourg were to be the objects this
year of three separate expeditions. Of
the first, Abercromby, now in America,
was to be in command; and of the
second. Brigadier Forbes, a Scottish
soldier of merit and energy. Louis-
bourg was made a matter of prime im-
portance, as the fleet was to co-oper-
ate. Amherst, a colonel serving in
Germany, was recalled to take com-
mand of the land force with the rank
of General, and under him went three
brigadiers— Lawrence, whom we have
met before in Nova Scotia; Whitmore,
of whom little was known, and lastly,
in a good hour, James Wolfe.
As Wolfe's name is the most lumin-
ous by far in the annals of the war, a
few words on the previous record of
this illustrious young soldier will not
be amiss. He was of that Anglo-
Irish stock which has given to the na-
tion so many leaders, though his par-
ticular branch of the family had been
back in England again for two or three
generations when the hero himself was
born. His father was a general in the
army, who in youth had seen service
under Marlborough, and in advanced
middle age, after Walpole's long
peace, took the field again in South
America and Scotland.* His mother
was a Miss Thompson, daughter of a
Yorkshire squire. The Wolfes had
just taken a small but picturesque
Tudor house which still stands in the
outskirts of the little Kentish town of
Westerham, where their eldest son,
James, was born. There he and his
brother, who died in his first campaign,
spent their early youth. In the gar-
dens of Squerryes Court, close by, an
inscribed cenotaph marks the spot
where the hero of the Plains of Abra-
ham received the envelope containing
his first commission while playing with
his friends the Wardes, whose de-
scendants still live there, and in the
stately Queen Anne mansion are still
treasured those hundred and seventy
or so well written and characteristic
*Wolfe's father went north with Wade in
the '45 as a General of Division, though very
infirm and takings little part in the operations.
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
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letters in which the young soldier un-
consciously tells the story of his life.
There is an old Welsh legend relat-
ing how Owen Glyndwr, while still a
bahe in arms, if he caught sight of a
sword or a spear, gave those in charge
of him no peace till it was placed in
his infant fingers. Wolfe, not in leg-
endary lore, but in actual deed, was
only less precocious in his martial ar-
dour; for when his father, then com-
manding a regiment of marines, was
waiting in camp to embark on the
luckless expedition against Cartha-
gena, the boy — then just thirteen —
brushing aside his mother*s tears and
entreaties, and overcoming his father's
less pronounced objections, actually
succeeded in getting himself attached
to the regiment as a volunteer. Hap-
pily they were not yet on board when
he was seized with some childish mal-
ady and sent home again, and put to
school.
At fifteen, however, Wolfe actually
received his commission, and joined
Duroure's, or the 12th regiment of
foot. At sixteen he fought in the bat-
tle of Dettingen, acting as adjutant
throughout the whole of that sanguin-
ary day, which his boyish pen has
graphically described. Proud of his
profession and of his country, fearless
in battle and ardent in his duties, he
got plenty of the work that was in
those days crowded on a willing horse.
At the breaking out of the Jacobite
rebellion of '45, though barely nine-
teen, he had won his way, without
backing or interest, to be brigade-
major. He fought through this cam-
paign in Barrel's regiment (the 4th
foot), and afterwards on the Continent,
where he was wounded at Lauffeldt.
He then had some ten years of home
service in command of the 20th regi-
ment, partly in Scotland doing police
work among disaffected Highlanders,
and partly in southern garrisons, chaf-
ing vehemently the while at such en-
forced inactivity. In such times, how-
ever, he never lost an opportunity of
improving himself, studying mathema-
tics and classics, as well as military
history. He fished and shot when the
chance offered with equal ardour. He
was fond of society, both grave and
gay, was a graceful and industrious
dancer, and expected his subalterns to
be the latter at any rate. All Wolfe
could do in the years of peace between
the two wars he did ^o in the path of
professional duty, for he left his regi-
ment the best disciplined of any in the
British army, and one much sought
after by ambitious youths and prudent
parents. He was a singular blend of
the dashing fighter, the strict discip-
linarian, the ardent student, the keen
sportsman, and society man. He was
religious without ostentation, studious
without any taint of the prig, and brave
even to recklessness.
The long, gaunt figure, the pale,
homely face and red hair, of which
Wolfe himself was always so humor-
ously conscious, are a familiar memory
to most people, while his wretched
health is also a matter of common no-
toriety. He loved as ardently and as
faithfully as he fought, for being un-
successful in his first attachment — a
daughter of the Sir Wilfrid Lawson of
that day being the object of it — he re-
mained for years true to her memory,
and proof against all other charmers
till within a few months of his death.
What kind of a son he was his corre-
spondence shows. Almost the only
thing he would not do for his mother
was to marry any of the heiresses that
excellent lady was in the habit of
pressing upon his notice. In 1757 he
had been sent as fourth 'in command of
the luckless expedition against Ro-
chelle, led by Sir John Mordaunt, and
was the only man that came out of it
with any credit. Even this consisted
only of intentions which the supine-
ness of his chief forbade him to carry
out; and that so slight an incident
caught Pitt's attention is characteristic
of his genius. Wolfe's professional
ardour in those dull times, together
with his rather uncommon tempera-
ment, made him regarded in some
quarters as eccentric. Some one told
George II he was mad. ''Mad, is
he ?" snarled out the old king, soured
by the recent displays of British strat-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
egy. **Then I only hope he'll bite
some of my generals."
But Pitt's first care this year was to
prevent, if possible, any men or pro-
visions from crossing the ocean for the
relief of Canada. Armaments for this
purpose were known to be preparing
in Rochefort and Toulon, so Hawke
and Osborn were sent with sufficient
ships to effectually thwart both enter-
prises. As a big fish chases a shoal
of frightened fry on to the shallows, so
Hawke drove the French fleet at Roche-
fort helter-skelter on to their own
rocks and sandbanks, to their very
great detriment, while Osborn guarded
the Straits at Gibraltar, a position
which the armament at Toulon did not
venture to dispute.
Boscawen, who was to command the
North American fleet and take Am-
herst's army to Louisbourg, was a son
of Lord Falmouth and a grandson of
that too-famous Arabella Churchill,
who had married after her relationship
with James II had ceased. He was
therefore of the Marlborough blood;
but Bosca wen's nicknames of " Old
Dreadnought" and ** Wry necked Dick"
suggest rather the bluff seadog of the
period than any flavour of coronets
and courts. In any case he was known
as a good sailor and, what at this mo-
ment was equally important, might be
trusted to act cordially with Amherst,
and not follow the too-prevalent fash-
ion of thwarting the soldier because
he himself was of the rival trade. For
there was not much love lost in those
days between the services, and they
were both apt to show their feelings
only too plainly for the public welfare
when called upon to act together. The
sailor, from the nature of his services
on these occasions, was the greater
sinner, and national enterprise, strange
though it seems now, had suffered
often and sorely from the friction. The
naval officer of those days, as every-
body knows, was, with some excep-
tions, a rough diamond. Taken as a
class, he was not the social equal of
the soldier, and this in part, no doubt,
accounted for his unconciliatory atti-
tude. But a change, both in the per-
sonnel and the sentiment of the navy,
was now creeping in, and Boscawen
amply proved his capacity for putting
professional prejudice aside when the
honour of his country was at stake.
It was the 19th of February, 1758,
when the Admiral sailed out of the
Solent with Wolfe on board and a
fraction of the army which was to op-
erate against Louisbourg. The rest
of the force was to be made up by
troops from Loudon's army of the pre-
vious year, which was waiting at Hali-
fax. Amherst Was to follow immedi-
ately. Buffeted by winds from the
very outset, and forced for some days
into Plymouth, it was nearly three
months before the fleet appeared in
Chebucto Bay and dropped anchor in
Halifax harbour on May loth. Que-
bec, of course, was in the mind of Pitt
and of his generals, should fortune
favour them, and that quickly, at
Louisbourg; but in the matter of
weather she had so far been the re-
verse of kind, and they had already
lost a month out of their quite reason-
able calculations. Amherst arrived a
fortnight later, and with a fleet of
nearly 200 ships of ail kinds, and an
army of 12,000 men, sailed out of
Halifax harbour and bore away through
heavy seas before a favouring wind to
Louisbourg. . On June ist the soldiers
had their first sight of *'the Dunkirk
of the North," lifting its formidable
ramparts behind a white fringe of rag-
ing surf.
Louisbourg, as may perhaps have
been already gathered, was no town
such as Boston or New York, or even
Quebec and Montreal, the focus, that
is to say, of a surrounding civilization;
but, on the contrary, it stood like a
lone oasis between a shaggy wilder-
ness and a grey sea, the sport of storms
and fogs. It counted a population of
4,000 souls, some of whom were fish-
merchants and some priests, but many
were engaged in various pursuits con-
nected with the trade of war. Louis-
bourg, indeed, scarcely professed to
represent the interests of peace; it ex-
isted for war and for war alone.
France, at the late treaty, had strained
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
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Siege oF
LOUISBOURG
1758
MAP SHOWING THE CHIEF POINTS IN CONNECTION WITH THE GREAT SUCCESSFUL SIEGE OF
LOUISBOURG BY THE BRITISH IN JUNE AND JULY, 1 758
every diplomatic nerve to recover the
town from the grip of the New Eng-
laDders, who in the last war, with the
help of a British fleet, had seized her
in a moment of comparative weakness.
England, deaf to the cries of her col-
onial subjects, had then yielded, and
was now paying the price of her blind-
ness. With her fine harbour, her nat-
ural defences, her commanding situa-
tion in the northern seas, Louisbourg
only existed as a menace to the enemies
of those who held her, a refuge to the
hunted, a rallying-point for the hunt-
ers of the ocean; the scourge of Nova
Scotia, the curse of the Newfoundland
and New England coasts, and a name
as familiar then in Europe as it is now
forgotten. Since its restoration to
France, a million sterling had been
spent on the fortifications. Franquet,
the eminent engineer, assisted by
skilled artificers, had done the work,
and from behind its two-mile circle of
stone bastions and massive curtains of
well-mortared masonry nearly 400 can-
non frowned defiance upon all comers.
Drucour was now governor, while
about 4,000 men, mostly French or
Canadian regulars, in addition to the
same number of inhabitants, with a
year's provisions, awaited Amherst be-
hind the walls. But this was by no
means all, for the Sutherland^ of sixty
guns, met the British fleet in the offing
with the news that seven line-of-battle
ships and five frigates, carrying 550
guns and 3,000 sailors, were at anchor
in the harbour to assist in the defence.
Louisbourg harbour was some seven
miles in circumference with an entry so
blocked with reefs and islands that the
actual passage was not half a mile in
width. The town occupied the point
of the promontory which guarded the
western mouth of the harbour, and
formed a triangle; one side being lash-
ed by the breakers of the Atlantic, the
other washed by the land-locked waters
of the harbour, while the third, or base,
facing the only approach by land, was
the most strongly fortified. Goat Is-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
land, in the centre of the harbour
mouth, commanded the eastern or
navigable channel, and carried a bat-
tery. But these, after all, formed only
a portion of the strength of Louis-
bourg. For several miles to the west,
the only side from which a force could
to any practical purpose be landed by
sea, the shores of the bay of Gabarus
presented an iron barrier of cliffs and
reefs, only broken here and there by
narrow coves that could be readily de-
fended. A first line of defence there-
fore existed, formidable in itself to any
but the boldest foe, before a single
shell could be dropped over the walls
of the town. Each of these points had
now been strongly intrenched, mount-
ed with batteries, provided with pits
for riflemen, and protected by the
formidable and familiar American
method of felled trees laid with their
branches outward.
Amherst's army consisted of about
12,000 men, made up of the following
corps: The 15th (Amherst's), 17th
(Forbes'), 28th (Bragg's), 35th (Ot-
way's), 40th (Hopson's), 47th (Lascel-
les'), 48th (Webb's), 58th (Anstruth-
er's), the first and second battalions of
the 60th or Royal Americans, and the
63rd (Fraser's Highlanders); there
were also five companies of rangers
and artillery, with about 140 guns of
varying calibre. The Highland regi-
ments had been recently raised by Pitt,
to whom belongs the honour of con-
verting the late enemies of the British
Government into battalions that were
to prove one of the most formidable of
its weapons. The Royal Americans,
too, whose acquaintance we have al-
ready made, were the origin of bat-
talions no less famous in British an-
nals. Most people, I fancy, would be
surprised to hear that the 6oth Rifles
was first raised in America, and con-
sisted not merely of colonists, but very
largely of German colonists; so much
so, indeed, that it was found advisable
to procure a number of officers from
Switzerland and Germany who could
speak their language. Their chief.
Colonel Bouquet, was a Swiss, an ex-
tremely able and accomplished officer,
who was now in Pennsylvania with
Forbes, and of whom we shall hear
later. He has moreover left a journal
of his doings in America which is well
worthy of perusal.
Boscawen had twenty-three ships of
the line and seventeen frigates, and it
was the 2nd of June before his whole
fleet arrived off the town. A heavy
sea was running, and the rugged shore
was white with an unbroken line of
raging surf. Amherst, however, with
Lawrence and Wolfe, the latter still
suffering sorely from his dire enemy,
seasickness, took boat, and rowing
along the coast, surveyed it through
their glasses. There were only three
places at which a landing was possible,
even when the weather moderated, and
these, it was seen, were all strongly in-
trenched. On the 5th the wind dropped
a little but gave way to a fog,, which was
even worse. On the 6th both wind and
fog moderated, and the troops were pl^-
ed in the boats, but the wind again in-
creasing, they were ordered back to
the ships. The sailors, with all the
will in the world, thought gravely of
any attempt to land. Boscawen sent
for his captains one by one, and they
were all inclined to shake their heads.
A fine old sea-dog, however, one Fer-
guson, captain of a sixty-gun ship, the
Prince^ would have no halting, and by
his vehemence turned the scale in
favour of prompt action. On the even-
ing of the 7th the wind fell slightly, the
night proved clear, and soon after mid-
night the men were once more dropped
into the boats. It had been arranged
that the attack should be made in three
divisions on three separate points.
Lawrence and Whitmore were to
threaten the two coves nearer the
town, while Wolfe made the actual at-
tack on Kennington Cove or Le Coro-
mandiere, the farthest off, the most
accessible, but also the most strongly
defended, and some four miles distant
from the city.
When morning broke upon the short
summer night, all was ready for a
start, and at sunrise the entire fleet
opened such a furious cannonade as
had never been heard even in those
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
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dreary regions of strife and tempest.
Under its cover the boats pushed for
the shore, Wolfe and his division, as
the chief actors in the scene, making
for the left, where, in Kennington
Cove, some twelve hundred French
soldiers, with a strong battery of guns,
lay securely intrenched just above the
shore line and behind an abattis of
fallen trees. As Wolfe's boats, rising
and falling on the great Atlantic roll-
ers, drew near the rocks, the thunder
of Boscawen*s guns ceased, and, the
French upon shore still reserving their
fire for closer quarters, there was for
some time an ominous silence, broken
only by the booming of the surf as it
leapt up the cliffs or spouted in white
columns above the sunken rocks.
Heading for the narrow beach, the
leading boats were within a hundred
yards -of it when the French batteries
opened on them with a fierce hail of
ball and round shot. Nothing but the
heaving of the sea, say those who
were there, could have saved them.
Wolfe's flagstaff was shot away, and
even that ardent soul shrank from
leading his men further into such a
murderous fire. He was just signalling
to his flotilla to sheer off, when three
boats on the flank, either unaware of
or refusing to see the signal, were ob-
served dashing for a rocky ledge at the
corner of the cove. They were com-
manded by two lieutenants, Hopkins
and Brown, and an ensign, Grant.
These young gentlemen had caught
sight of a possible landing-place at a
spot protected by an angle of the cliff
from the French batteries. Without
waiting for orders, they sent their
boats through the surf, and with little
damage succeeded in landing on the
slippery rocks and scrambling to tem-
porary shelter from the French fire.
Wolfe, at once a disciplinarian and a
creature of impulse, did not stand on
ceremony. Feeling, no doubt, that he
would himself have acted in precisely
the same fashion as his gallant sub-
alterns under like conditions, he signal-
led to the rest to follow their lead, set-
ting the example himself with his own
boat. The movement was successful,
though not without much loss both in
boats and men. The surf was strong
and the rocks were sharp; many boats
were smashed to pieces, many men
were drowned, but the loss was not
comparable to the advantage gained.
Wolfe himself, cane in hand, was one
of the first to leap into the surf. These
were not the men of Oswego, of Lake
George, of the Monongahela, of the
Virginia frontier. The spirit of Pitt
was already abroad, borne by the very
breakers on these wild Acadian shores,
and burning in the hearts of these
fierce islanders, who, like their Norse
ancestors of old, came out of the very
surf to wrest dominion from their an-
cient foe. As the troops came strag-
gling out upon the beach, full of
ardour, soaked to the skin, and many
of them badly bruised, Wolfe formed
them rapidly in column, routed a de-
tachment of Grenadiers, and fell im-
mediately with the bayonet upon the
French redoubts. The enemy, though
picked and courageous troops, were
taken aback and fled without much
resistance. They had seen Amherst,
too, with reinforcements, coming up
behind Wolfe, and above all had noted
the flotillas of Whitmore and Lawrence
between them and the city, and were
fearful of being cut off should these last
effect a landing. The French were
pursued over the rocks and through
the scrubby pine-woods till the pursu-
ers came within play of the guns of
Louisbourg, which opened a heavy fire
to cover the retreat. Over a hundred
were killed or taken prisoners, while
the loss of the British in landing was
not much less.
Amherst now traced the lines of his
camp along a shallow valley, watered
by a small stream, which was not only
out of range of the Louisbourg guns,
but invfsible from the walls. Here he
proceeded to intrench himself, erecting
blockhouses at extremities where an
attack might be expected from Aca-
dians and Micmac Indians, with which
the wilderness beyond was thought to
swarm. The sea, however, remained
so rough that it was some days before
the troops could get their tents, stores
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
and lighter guns on shore. It was not
till about the 17th, when the weather
moderated, that the siege guns could
be brought from the fleet. Both
services worked with a will, but their
difficulties may be estimated from the
fact that over a hundred boats were
destroyed in the operation.
The French now drew all their men
within the fortifications. A large bat-
tery of thirty guns on the opposite side
of the harbour, with houses and fish
stages, was destroyed by the garrison
on the night of the British landing, and
a great conflagration reddened both
sky and sea. The guns were spiked,
as were those of a smaller battery at
the eastern point of the harbour^s
mouth. Wolfe had a large corps of
light infantry, picked for their marks-
manship from various regiments, and
trained, so far as a week or two at
Halifax could train them, in tactics
that became familiar enough later on,
but were regarded at the time as quite
a strange innovation on the part of the
vigorous and eccentric brigadier. It
was merely a matter of advancing in
loose formation, and using all the in-
equalities of the ground for protection,
coupled with a light and easy costume
for the men, namely a short jacket,
small round hat, and a kind of light
woollen trouser, cut moderately tight.
A story goes that an officer who was
regarded as somewhat learned among
his fellows remarked to Wolfe that
his new corps reminded him of the
HapSovxoi alluded to by Xenophon.
"That is exactly where I got the idea,"
replied Wolfe; ''only these people
never read anything, and consequently
believe the idea to be a novel one."
Amherst's first move was to send
Wolfe with his light infantry on a
long, rough march of seven or eight
miles around the harbour to erect
some batteries upon the farther shore,
the necessary guns being despatched
by water. In this business, notwith-
standing the scantiness of soil and the
absence of suitable timber, he was so
alert that by the 26th he had not only
mounted his chief battery at Light-
house Point, but had intrenched all
his men in safety from the Are of the
town and fleet, which had been fierce
and continuous, and furthermore had
effectually silenced the formidable
French battery on Goat Island in the
middle of the harbour entrance.
There was nothing now to prevent
Boscawen, if he so chose, from sailing
in with his whole fleet, so the French
admiral, Desgouttes, rather than lose
all his ships, prudently sunk four of
them by night in the channel to pro-
tect the rest. Wolfe, in the mean-
time, had been writing cheery letters
to Amherst, telling him of bis progress,
and greatly jubilant that the French
fleet were now * * in a confounded
scrape." This was precisely what the
French admiral and his officers had
been thinking for some time, and
Desgouttes had urged on the Governor
the desirability of getting his ships off
while there was yet time. Drucour,
however, thought differently, as he
wanted the ships and the sailors to
prolong the defence, and so prevent
the besieging army from either pro-
ceeding to Quebec that season, or
from helping Abercromby against
Montcalm at Lake George. For a
fortnight an artillery Are had been
steadily proceeding upon the harbour
side, while to the westward, where the
serious attack was contemplated, Am-
herst's dispositions were not quite
ready, the engineering difficulties being
considerable. Wolfe, having done his
work, now hurried back to the main
lines, which were henceforward to be
the chief scene of action.
An extensive marsh stretched away
from the walls of Louisbourg on the
landward side. Beyond this rolled the
^^%g^^i broken ground in which the
British intrenchments lay. On each
side of the marsh, however, rocky
knolls extended up close to the de-
fences of the town. It was along these
horns, as it were, that Amherst had to
push his batteries under a heavy fire.
With rocky hillocks and swampy flats
to approach over, Amherst's task was
no easy one ; but he was distinguished
for patience and thoroughness. What
he lacked in dash, Wolfe, who by the
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THE FIGHT FOR NORTH AMERICA
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27th was back at his side, most amply
supplied. Thousands of men toiled
night and day, while a hundred big
guns roared with tireless throats from
the massive works of masonry on the
west of the town, and poured shot and
shell upon the British working parties
as they crept gradually nearer. But
the pick, the shovel, and the axe
proved as efficient in defence under
the skilful eyes of those who directed
them as they were to prove formidable
in advance, and no serious loss was
suffered. A French frigate, the Are^
thuse^ bravely manned and commanded,
was stationed in a western angle of the
harbour, where the northern wing of
the approaching invaders could be
reached, and proved herself extremely
troublesome. She stood in her turn a
vast deal of cannonading, till at last
she was brought off, her shot holes
plugged, and running the gauntlet of
the British fleet in a fog, she bore
safely away, and carried the news of
the sore plight of Louisbourg across
the Atlantic.
On both the right and left the
English batteries were now pushed
forward to within half a mile of the
town, and, with Wolfe on one side
and Lawrence on the other, began
their deadly work. Two hundred big
guns and mortars, plied upon both
sides by skilled gunners, shook that
desolate coast with such an uproar as
no part orNorth America since its first
discovery had ever felt. Twenty
thousand disciplined troops, soldiers
and sailors, led by skilful and energetic
commanders, made a warlike tableau,
the like of which had never yet been
seen, with all the blood that had been
spilled between the Mississippi and
the St. Lawrence, while infinite valour
animated both sides. On July 6th, a
sortie was made upon the advanced
trenches on the British left which was
easily repulsed. Three days after-
wards a much more serious effort was
pressed by a thousand men, stimulated
by brandy, the English accounts say,
upon the right. The British Grena-
diers w«re forced back out of the
trenches, fighting desperately with the
bayonet in the dark. Wolfe was here,
revelling in the bloody milee^ and the
enemy was ultimately driven back
into the town.
At this time, too, the long- threatened
attack of Acadians and Indians, out of
the wilderness on the left flank, was
delivered. They were commanded by
Boisherbert, a partisan leader of note,
but were easily repulsed, and gave
little further trouble.
On July i6th, Wolfe made a rush
forward and fortified a small hill,
locally famous as the spot where
Lpuisbourg malefactors were executed.
It was only three hundred yards from
the ramparts of the town, and the
artillery fire now waxed terrific.
On both wings, indeed, the British
advance was pushed so close that gun
after gun was dismounted on the
Louisbourg ramparts, and the masonry
itself began to crack and crumble in
all directions, while British soldiers
were pressing forward to the very foot
of the glacis, and firing upon the cov-
ered way. On the 21st, one of the
French ships in the harbour, the
CiUbrey was ignited by a bomb, and
the fiames spread to two others. The
British batteries on the extreme left
commanded the scene, and rained such
a hail of balls upon the flaming decks
that the ships could not be saved, and
all three were burnt to the water's
edge. Shells, round shot and bombs «
were now falling in every part of
the devoted town. Nearly all the
sailors of the fleet were with the gar-
rison, and all the townsmen who could
bear arms helped to man the defences.
There had been a little earlier some
friendly amenities between besiegers
and besieged. Amherst had sent some
West India pineapples to Madame
Drucour, whom an uncertain French
authority, that one would like to be-
lieve, declares took a personal part in
the defence. Madame sent back a
basket of wine, while Drucour himself
offered the services of an exceptionally
skilful physician to any of the wounded
British officers who cared to avail
themselves of them. But matters had
got too serious now for such courte-
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
sies. On the 22nd the chief house of
the citadel, where the Governor and
other officials were living, was almost
wholly destroyed by fire. A thousand
of the garrison were sick or wounded,
and were cowering in wretchedness
and misery in the few sheltered spots
and casements that remained.
The soldiers had no refuge whatever
from the shot and shell. Night and
day — for there was a bright moon —
the pitiless rain of iron fell upon the
town, which, being built mostly of
wood, was continually igniting and
demanding the incessant labours of a
garrison weakened and worn out by
the necessity of sleepless vigilance.
The gallantry of the defence equalled
the vigour of the attack, and was all
the more praiseworthy seeing how
hopeless it had become. Only two
ships of war were left in the harbour,
and the British bluejackets, who had
been spectators of the siege, now
thought they saw a chance of earning
some distinction for their branch of
the service. So five hundred sailors,
in boats, running the gauntlet of the
fire from the town upon the harbour
side, dashed in upon the Le Bienfaisant
and Le Prudent ^ overpowered their
feeble crews, burnt the latter ship, and
towed the other one into a corner of
the harbour secured by British batter-
ies. The harbour was now cleared of
French shipping. Another great fire
had just occurred in the town, destroy-
ing the barracks that had been an im-
portant point of shelter. The bastions
on the land side were rapidly crumb-
ling. On the 26th less than half a
dozen guns were feebly replying to
the uproar of 107 heavy pieces firing
at close range from the British bat-
teries, and more than one big breach
in the walls warned the exhausted
garrison of the imminence of an
assault.
A council of war was now called, and
the vote was unanimous that a white
flag should be sent to Amherst with a
request for terms. This was done,
but when Amherst's answer came the
opinion was equally unanimous against
accepting what he offered, which was
unconditional surrender within an hour.
The officer was sent back again to urge
a modification of such hard conditions,
but Amherst, well knowing that he
had Louisbourg at his mercy, refused
even to see the envoy. With singular
courage, seeing that no relief was pos-
sible, the French officers resolved to
bear the brunt of the attack, and
Franquet, the engineer who had con-
structed the fortifications, with de la
Houli^re, the commander of the troops,
proceeded to select the ground for a
last stand. But the townspeople had
no mind to offer themselves up as vic-
tims to an infuriated soldiery, for they
remembered Fort William Henry, and
dreaded the result. The Commissary-
General came to Drucour, and repre-
sented that whatever might be the
feelings of the military with regard to
their professional honour, it was not
fair to subject 4,000 citizens, who had
already suffered terribly, to the hor-
rors of an assault upon that account
alone. He pointed out, and with jus-
tice, that no stain, as it was, could
rest on the garrison, who had acquit-
ted themselves most bravely against a
numerous and formidable foe, and his
arguments had effect. The messen-
ger, who for some cause or other had
delayed in his mission, was overtaken
and recalled, and Amherst's terms
accepted. These last required that
all the garrison should be delivered
up as prisoners of war and transported
to England. The non-combatants
were at liberty to return to France,
and the sick and wounded, numbering
some 1,200, were to be looked after
by Amherst. All Cape Breton and the
adjacent island of Saint Jean (now the
fertile province of Prince Edward),
with any small garrisons or stores
therein contained, were to be given up
to the English.
On July the 27th the French troops
were drawn up on parade before Whit-
more, and, with gestures of rage and
mortification, laid down their arms
and filed gloomily off to the ships that
were to take them to England; 5,637
prisoners, soldiers and sailors, were
included in the surrender. About 240
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STAR^BLANKET
251
sound pieces of cannon and mortars,
with a large amount of ammunition
and stores, fell into the hands of the
victors. The French fleet in attend-
ance was totally destroyed, and French
power upon the North Atlantic coast
ceased to exist.
With Halifax so near, possessing,
as it did, an even better harbour, an
already firm British establishment and
a good tributary country, there was
evidently no need for such a place as
Louisbourg. So to place it more en-
tirely out of the reach of all enemies,
the British Government decided upon
its destruction. Two years after this,
in 1760, a great crowd of workmen,
navvies and soldiers, toiled continu-
ously for six months at the task of
demolition, and the busy, famous war-
like town was in this strange fashion
wiped out of existence. Never again
could a short-sighted English Govern-
ment, blind to its greater interests
because these were not in the Mediter-
ranean or the English Channel, rein-
state by treaty a French garrison in
Cape Breton. To-day a collection of
fishermen's huts by the shore is nearly
all that is left of this great stronghold
of French power in the days when a
mighty colonial future lay within her
grasp. Short by comparison as is the
story of the New World, he would be
a dull soul who could stand unmoved
by that deserted, un visited, surf- beaten
shore, where you may still trace upon
the turf the dim lines of once busy
streets, and mark the green mounds
which hide the remains of the great
bastions of Louisbourg. It has not
been given in modern times to many
centres of note and power to enjoy
within the short space of a century and
a half at once such world- wicte fame
and such profound oblivion.
TO BE CONTINUED
STAR-BLANKET
By DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT
JRETTY-FACE had prom-
ised to behave herself once
more. But this time she
promised in a different way,
and her husband, Star-
blaoket, was satisfied, which he had
not always been before. Star-blanket
wanted to be what his agent called "a
g'ood Indian." He wanted to have
a new cooking stove, and a looking-
g^lass. He already had cattle on loan,
and was one of the best workers in the
hay-fields. But it was disturbing that
he should so often come back from his
mrork to find his wife talking to Bad-
young*man, who never did a stroke of
work, who ranged off the reserve into
Montana or Kootenay, scorning per-
mits, and who made trouble wherever
he came. Pretty-face would promise
solemnly never to have a word with
Bad-young-man again, but many times
had she broken her promise, and Star-
blanket would return to meet the rover
on his pony, and hear his impudent
hail as he passed him in his barbaric
trappings, his hair full of brass pistol
cartridges and the tin trademarks from
tobacco plugs. But this last promise
of Pretty-face was in something differ-
ent, and Star-blanket was satisfied.
So satisfied was he that he bought for
her the medicine-pole-bag, which made
her, without any question, the first
lady on the reserve.
And Pretty-face kept her promise*
It was true that Bad-young-man was
away, no one knew where; but Star-
blanket was infinitely satisfied to come
home and find her looking after the
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
children, or preparing his supper her-
self, instead of leaving it to her moth-
er, whose cookery his soul hated. He
took a great satisfaction now in the
prospect of his small shanty and his
larger stable, with the three tepees
grouped around them, and his verdant
garden patches fenced to keep out the
cattle. He took a greater pleasure out
of his wife's social position than she
did, and viewed the medicine- pole-bag
with a sort of awe. With an infantine
curiosity he wondered what were the
sacred mysteries of the ''Mow-to-kee"
when the centre pole was raised.
Pretty-face allowed him to see the con-
tents of the parfleche bag, which had
cost him so many good dollars; the
snakeskin head- band into which the
feathers were stuck; the little sacks of
paint, red earth and grease; the shells
in which the paint is mixed; the sweet
grass to burn as incense during prayer-
making; and the whistle to mark the
rhythm for dancing.
More and more evident were the re-
sults of his toil and his obedience to
his agent and his instructor. He be-
gan to see clearly that what they had
told him was truth. He could trace
every dollar of the twenty- five he had
paid for the medicine-pole-bag to some
good stroke of work he had done in
the hay-fields. He did not know it,
but the agent had asked the depart-
ment for lumber to build him a new
house, and his chief ambitions were
forming solidly in the future. Verily,
the white man's ways were the best.
So his feeling was all the more in-
tense when he returned home one even-
ing in October and found that Bad-
young-man had been there. He did
not see him, but there was no need of
such crude evidence. There was no
visible trace in the demeanour of Pretty-
face nor in the bearing of the mother-
in-law. His wife had even prepared
his favourite dish for supper. But an-
other date had been written down.
Bad-young-man had come back.
Star-blanket ate his meal in silence,
and Pretty-face was so frightened that
she went away when he began to fill his
pipe with tobacco and kinikinik. But
he did not really care just then what
she did. He wrapped a blanket around
his shirt and went out to see his pater-
nal grandfather, who lived in one of
the tepees. He had been a mighty
warrior in his day, but now* he was
old, and could only remember the time
of his prowess which had gone by.
He could talk, but he could not see,
and his chief delight was in smoking
and sleeping in the sun. That night
when he smelt the kinikinik in Star-
blanket's tobacco, his tongue was
loosened, and he told many a story of
violent deed and desperate death.
Star-blanket was convinced that the
old way was a good way, and he went
out into the moonlight, unhobbled one
of his ponies and rode away furiously,
yelling every little while at the moon.
When he came back he pulled Pretty-
face out of one of the tepees where she
was hiding. She thought he was go-
ing to kill her, but he only warned her
that he would kill her and Bad-young-
man if he ever heard of them being
together again. Then he let her go,
and went and got the medicine-pole-
bag and gave it to his grandfather.
After a night's sleep he had forgot-
ten his lapse to paganism, and again
found himself wanting to be a ''good"
Indian. It was the end of October,
and a ration day, and Star-blanket
went up to the ration house himself,
instead of sending one of his women.
He rode his best pony, and took his
rifle with him. The farther he got
from home the more restless he felt,
and he went down to his brother-in-
law's camp and had dinner.
It was late in the afternoon when he
returned to his own place. There were
the fresh marks of a horse's hoofs on
the trail. They began after he had
passed the coulee. He knew they
were made by Bad-young-man's pony.
He seemed to be thinking as he rode
slowly along, but suddenly he fired.
He did not himself hear the crack of
his rifle. His pony stopped. Some-
thing fell out from the bushes, half
way across the trail. It was Bad-
young-man. The pony sniffed, then
plunged and dashed by; but Star-
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253
blanket never dropped his eyes. When
he reached the house he went into the
tepee to talk with his grandfather, and
the women who had heard the shot
rushed off to find Pretty- face.
After Star-blanket had heard what
his grandfather had to say, he declared
that the old way was the best, and he
went out and made his '* mark " to kill
a white man. But he would take his
time over that; no one would miss
Bad-young-man for a long while.
Pretty-face, remembering his warning,
expected to be shot, and she kept out
of sight for two days; but when he
saw her he only scolded and called her
the worst name he could in his own
language, and nearly the worst he
could in English, and because he had
nothing to eat all that time except her
mother's odious bannocks fried in ran-
cid grease. Star-blanket's settlement
was some distance from the main trail
to Macleod, and there was little likeli-
hood of any one coming up to his hill;
so, for a week. Bad-young-man lay as
he had fallen. No one went gear him.
For a day and a night his pony stood
by him, but, wandering away looking for
grass he was taken by one of the women
and hobbled at night with the others.
Suddenly Star-blanket became rest-
less. Watching from a small hill near
his house, he saw the agent stop and
look up at his place as if debating
whether to visit him or not. He Went
on, but the next time he might come.
That night it was dark, and a heavy
cloud in the east threatened snow.
Star-blanket deemed that this was a
good time to do a little shooting, so
when one of the farm instructors,
moving about his house, came between
the lamp and a window, he heard the
sharp crack of a rifle, and saw a
flower-pot jump off the window sill.
He did not believe he was hit until the
doctor, tracing the bullet from the
point of his hip backward, produced it
from somewhere near his spine. An-
other inch and he would not have seen
the flower-pot jump off the window
sill. Up came the cloud carrying and
scattering snow, and away went Star-
blanket with it.
In the morning the reserve was alive
with excitement. The Northwest
mounted police patrols were out scour-
ing the country, but safely were the
marks of Star-blanket's pony hidden
in the obscurity of the snow. Star-
blanket himself kept close to his place
all day, but one of his women brought
him up the news. The instructor was
not even badly hurt; in a day or two
he would be as well as ever. Star-
blanket did not care very much; all
white men were alike to him; only he
made his mark to kill another, the
agent this time. He would have done
so had not Bad-young-man's pony
broken away and gone straight to the
lower camp. His appearance caused
a commotion, and soon it was known
everywhere that Bad-young-man's pony
had come back without Bad-young-
man, and the question naturally arose
— what had become of that celebrated
gambler and lady-killer. Every pos-
sible and probable cause of his disap- .
pearance was canvassed, when Medi-
cine-pipe-crane-turning declared that
he had been murdered. He had no
evidence to offer, but he looked the
pony all oyer and declared that he had
been murdered.
Star-blanket was uneasy when he
found that Bad-young-man's pony had
strayed ofl*, and later in the morning
he saw a girl of Wolf-buU'sband come
out of the bushes near his trail. Some-
thing in the way this girl hurried along
made him know that she had found
Bad-young-man. Toward evening,
when the police rode up with tramp
and jangle, they found only Star-blank-
et's blind paternal grandfather huddled
up in his tepee. Hours before Star-
blanket and his whole menage, ponies,
women, kids, kettles, blankets and all,
had taken to the brush.
That night it was known over the
whole reserve that Star-blanket had
shot Bad-young- man and had tried to
kill an instructor. The word went out
by runners to the farthest police posts,
and while the fugitives were hidden in
the bottom of some coulee under the
stars and out of the wind, his fame
had travelled from Macleod half-way
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
round the world. No one could un-
derstand how Star-blanket, who want-
ed to be a *' good " Indian, had done
this thing. He was a mild, big fellow,
with sad eyes in a face rather emaci-
ated. But, whatever reasons he had
had, he was now to be caught and
punished. It was once more civiliza-
tion against barbarism. Against this
one Indian who had dared to follow
the old tradition was arrayed all or-
ganized law. The mounted police, the
Indian agent, and the Bloods, the peo-
ple of his own clan and totem, who
had learned well the white man's treach-
ery, were banded together to hunt him
down.
Star- blanket resolved that, so far as
he was able, he would make it a long
and merry chase. To that end he be-
gan by discarding all the comforts of
home; and one evening, about sun-
down, a squad of police were surprised
to stumble on Star-blanket's women
and the paraphernalia of his camp
scurrying along the main trail. They
gathered them in, but from them they
could gain no clew to the whereabouts
of the murderer. Now that he was
free of his impediments Star-blanket
began a flitting to and fro that puzzled
the most cunning scouts and unsettled
the most phlegmatic brave on the re-
serve. Knowing all the fleetest horses
he stole them by night and used each
one until it was played out. In vain
the scouts followed tracks in the snow.
Reports came in that he had been seen,
mounted on a white horse, in the Belly
River bottom; but it was found to be
one of Cochrane's cowboys. Three-
buirs piebald racer, the fastest horse
on the reserve was stolen, although his
owner was watching all night, and the
next morning he was found forty miles
away completely exhausted. The In-
dians fell into a panic; no one did a
stroke of work. Reports came in,
which, if true, would mean that he had
been seen on the same night in two
different places thirty miles apart. The
Indians believed that he had some
^'medicine," and that he would never
be caught. Three weeks had been
lost in the chase, and even the police
were beginning to chaff one another.
It looked probable that Star-blanket
had retired to the wilds of the Koote-
nay, or had flitted over the line to
Montana.
He could have done either of these
things readily enough, but, with a sort
of bravado he chose to circle like a
hawk about his own reserve. He
well knew what an excitement his es-
capade was causing, and his gratified
vanity bore him through perils and
hardships which he would for some
reasons have shunned. All the nights
of the late October were cold, as he
sometimes lay next his horse In the
bottom of a coulee, sheltered from the
wind, with his single blanket for a cov-
ering, or riding in the teeth of a storm
of snow or sleet to appear or disappear
like a spirit. Hunger pursued him.
The white man, with his cunning, had
locked up his women, and they could
not cache food for him. He distrusted
his relatives) he knew that they would
be bribed to hunt him down or lay a
trap for him. Sometimes he stood
under the stars so near their tepees
that he could hear their breathing.
Once he stole two days' rations from a
mounted policeman who was sleeping
by his hobbled horse. But always he
was hungry. His face grew more
emaciated and his eyes took on the
glitter of ice under starlight. Sleep-
less by night and by day, he called on
his gods to strike his enemies. They
had taken his country from him, his
manners and his garb, and when he
rebelled against them, their hands were
upon him. Sometimes he felt as if
his head was on fire, and he held his
hands up in the dark to see the reflec-
tion of the flames. Sometimes he
reeled in his saddle when he looked off
towards the foothills of the Rockies,
shining silvery in the distance, like an
uplifted land of promise.
He was getting tired of it all. A
sort of contempt for his pursuers, for
the hundreds of them that could not
catch him, crept upon him. He grew
more careless and more daring. They
found his trail mingled with their own.
One day after a storm, in which three
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STAR-BLANKET
255
inches of snow had fallen, he struck
the trail boldly at Bentley's, crossed
the ford there without any attempt at
concealment, worked his way down
the river. Again he forded ; then
doubling on his tracks through thick
brush, recrossed his own trail at Bent-
ley's, and then followed the river bank
up stream. Then, after a mile or so,
be came out into the open. It was a
clear morning after the storm; above,
a lofty blue sky; below, the plain
stretching away covered with the
gleaming snow. He was riding leis-
urely, when suddenly, without turning
around, he knew he was followed.
Urging his horse and glancing over
his shoulder, he saw three mounted
men on his trail about a mile away.
He dashed ahead, at first without
eagerness, with an air of reckless con-
tempt. The next time he looked he
noticed that one of the horsemen had
begun to draw away from his compan-
ions.
Star-blanket*s pony was not fresh,
be had ridden him many a mile in the
night, and the beast showed signs of
fatigue. He urged him to the top of
his speed, but the next time he looked
behind his pursuer had gained. He
could see that he was mounted on a
spirited horse which was perfectly
fresh. He calculated that before he
had gone another mile his enemy
would be abreast of him. His own
beast, instead of responding to his
cries, seemed to lag, he had no life in
him. When Star-blanket looked over
his shoulder again he could almost
distinguish the features of his pursuer.
He had long, blonde moustaches and a
ruddy face. Star-blanket knew who
it was. It was Sergeant Wales of
the Pincher Creek detachment. He
was rapidly overhauling him. Star-
blanket could hear him shout now and
then. What would he do ? His im-
pulse was simply to surrender. Glanc-
ing once more behind him, he saw
that Wales had drawn his pistol and he
would soon be within its range. Again
he urged his tired beast. He kept his
eyes fixed for a while on the snow
which the hoofs of his pony were
tramping. Over the light, uneven
sound of his hoofs and the movements
of his trappings, Star-blanket began
to hear the pounding of the approach-
ing feet, regular and strong, and the
jingle and rattle of the accoutrements.
Every moment he expected to hear the
whistle of a bullet past his ears.
Suddenly the thought flashed through
him that Wales intended to take him
alive and lead him back to barracks a
captive. Once more, and for the last
time, he looked behind him. Rushing
splendidly, horse and rider moving as
one, they thundered down upon him.
Sun flashing from red tunic, from
points of brass and steel, foam spring-
ing from nostril white as the snow into
which it fell, on they came as if hurled
from a catapult to overwhelm irresist-
ibly this rickety pony with its starved
rider. Star-blanket gazed for a mo-
ment; he could see the eye-balls of
his captor gleam. He did not utter a
sound; he merely smiled with the glo-
rious excitement and triumph. I will
make him shoot me, the Indian thought
His rifle lay in the hollow of his arm.
Star-blanket turned away, and as he
turned his rifle spoke. Now he will
shoot me in the back, he thought. No.
Thirty yards they went. Star-blanket
heard a cry behind him. He turned in
time to see the towering frame of
Wales swerve in his saddle, bend back-
wards, swing from his horse. In a
twinkling Star-blanket wheeled his
pony. The horse, dragging its mast-
er's weight, rushed on for twenty
yards, then stopped. Quickly, so
quickly that the words of the story
seem leaden. Star-blanket dismounted.
A couple of bullets whistled far over
his head from his other pursuers half
a mile away. Then he did something
inconceivably brave for an Indian. He
ran close to the dead man, fired into
him, grabbed his horse, leaped into
the saddle and was off. From a mile
distant he saw his pursuers stoop over
the body of the sergeant, and then
gaze after him where he made a blot up-
on the snow. Slowly he raised his arm
and turned from them, making for Stand-
off and the mouth of the Kootenay.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
Wolf-plume was Star-blanket's
brother-in-law. He had a house with
two stories, and one bed in which he
never slept. Following the agent's
directions, by day his house wore an
inviting appearance; by night it was
lighted as if prepared for feasting and
tea drinking. The third night after
the shooting of Wales, the snow had
begun to fall near sundown, and fell
silently, unmoved by wind, as the
night deepened. Through the snow,
an Indian, leading his horse, his face
hidden in his blanket, approached
Wolf-plume's house. He tapped soft-
ly at the door. When Wolf-plume
came, the covering dropped a little
from the face. It was Star- blanket.
At first he would not come nearer.
But, reassured by the words of his
brother-in-law, and drawn powerfully
by the odor of a stew that came out
strongly into the snow, he threw the
rein off his arm, left his horse stand-
ing, and entered. There was no dan-
ger in sight. A bench was placed for
him. The stew tasted like nothing
which had ever passed his lips before;
and weariness overcame him, weari-
ness and sleep. After weeks of priva-
tion, starved, frozen, jaded with the
saddle, hunted for his life, he laid down
in the house of his friends and slept.
He slept. Then Wolf-plume took
the lamp out of the east window and
from miles away started the policemen
who had waited only for that signal.
Soon they had surrounded the little
house. They let him sleep as a free
man, sleep as the snow fell and the
clouds cleared off, and stars came out
piercingly bright in the sky. He woke
toward morning, and all about him
was the stamping of horses and the
movement of red tunics.
Many days after that, just before
they hanged him, he thought of the
medicine-pole-bag. He had often
thought of Pretty-face, but he did not
want to see her. He had thought of
many things which he did not under-
stand. He was to die in the white
man's manner, in the }Kzy he killed the
braves of his own race who had dealt
mightily with their hands. He could
not comprehend it all. They had driv-
en away the buffalo, and made the
Indian sad with flour and beef, and had
put his muscles into harness. He had
only shot a bad Indian,, and they rose
upon him. His gun had shot a big
policeman, and when they had taught
his brother-in-law their own morals he
was taken in sleep, and now there was
to be an end. He did not know what
P^re Pauquette meant by his prayers,
and the presentation of the little cruci-
fix worn bright with many salutations.
It was all involved in mystery, dire
and vast. Groping about for some
solace he sent for the medicine-pole-
bag, and when they brought it and he
was left alone, he placed it in a corner
of his cell and gazed for a long time
upon the parfleche covering with its
magical markings. When they had
left him for his last sleep he gathered
it to his breast, and all night he slept
with it there, unutterably content. The
next morning they took it away. It
was very cold for early spring. He
did not hear or understand what P^re
Pauquette murmured in his ear. His
was the calm of a stoic. He breathed
deeply the scent of the sweet grass
with which the medicine-pole-bag was
filled, ^hich clung to his tunic and
rose like incense about his face. And
so Star-blanket died.
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THE GRAVES OF THE ENGLISH DEAD*
BY VERNON NOTT
IN a burial ground by the rim of the sea, that fronts toward the crimson west,
'Mid gathering twilight, I sat alone where the dead were lying in rest;
And meseem'd that voices from far away with longing vainly cried —
For softly I heard, as it sang to the shore, the drone of the ceaseless tide.
As the moon uprose from the purple waves,
I looked on that garden of serried graves —
And sorrow crept to my side.
*'These are such," I mused, ''all sleeping here, as have chosen the peaceful life;
As have lived and died in their wave-girt home, unlured by the lust of strife;
They are such as humbled themselves to fate, choosing the minor pain —
Yet wrought as men of our English race — and here in their home are lain:
But what of the others — the heroes they! —
Who, true to their blood, have sail'd away —
And will never return again?
''Where do they lie, those dauntless ones, who in pride of their English birth
Carried the sword or the Word of God to uttermost parts of the earth;
Who, sharing the Christian's burden, have suffered and wrought and bled —
And stamp'd for ever, the wide world over, marks of their tireless tread?"
And lo! in a vision then wrought for me,
I saw in the lands beyond the sea
The graves of the English Dead.
I saw where the lonely legion lay, afar from their island home.
Like seed from the hand of a sower, like stars in the heavens' dome:
They lie in the five big continents; they are lull'd by every breeze;
Are tomb'd in the ice of antipodal Poles, or 'neath shade of the tamarind trees:
And such as were whelm'd by the vengeful waves
Are asleep in the dusk of coral caves
In the depths of the outer seas.
Where sunless the far-away circles gloom and the cold winds moan around
Are their footsteps lock'd in the icefloe, by Death their foeman bound ;
'Mid the waterless deserts' dustblown drifts, by God and devil bann'd.
The tracks of our'brothers who challenged Death are lost in the shifting sand.
Oh, bravely they lived and as bravely died.
These men that wrought, to their country's pride.
The works of heart and hand!
In the burial ground by the side of the sea, that fronts to the mystic west.
By light of the moon, I sat alone where the dead were taking their rest;
And meseem'd that a voice from over the world in a yearning whisper said,
"How long, how long, dear Lord, how long ere race to race be wed?" — -
There's a voice in the ocean's muffled roar
Telling a tale to the English shore
Of the graves of the English Dead.
*From "The Journey's End and Other Verses," by Vernon Nott. Montreal: A. T.
Chapman. Comt>are "The Chain of Empire," by Clive Phillipps-Wolley, Canadian Magazine,
Vol. xii, pp. 494-495-
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SHAW'S COMEDY
By ALBERT R, CARMAN, Auihor of ** The Penstonnaires,'' etc.
IR. WILLIS J. SHAW
started guiltily away from
Mrs. Willis J. Shaw at the
sound of a ^harp rap at the
door. Mrs. Shaw looked
up quickly with resentful apprehension,
and her eyes said petulantly — *' Who
can it be ?" Mr. Shaw had an annoyed
and hesitant air as if he contemplated
double-locking the door and pretend-
ing that they were dead, or had gone
out, or something of that sort.
** You'll have to see who it is,"
whispered Mrs. Shaw.
At this, Mr. Shaw looked more sav-
age than ever, and strode angrily to
the door. He flung it open; and there
stood the bell boy with his hand just
raised to knock again. But, instead,
he presented his silver tray.
** A card for you, sir."
Mr. Shaw took the card and read —
Miss Estbllb Stanley
" You are sure it is for me ?" he de-
manded of the boy.
'« It is for Mr. Shaw."
'•Where is the lady?"
*'In the Ladies' Parlour, sir."
'* Um-m! Did she — wasn't it for
Mrs. Shaw?"
•• I was just told * Mr. Shaw.'"
"Who is it— dear?" There was
just a little hesitation before the
<' dear," and after it Mrs. Shaw looked
defiantly at the bell boy; for she had
been "Mrs. Shaw" for only about
twenty-four hours, and it was still
quite a feat for her to call Willis
"dear" in public.
" I haven't an idea," said Willis.
• ' Do you know a Miss Estelle Stanley?"
"No-o."
" There must be some mistake,"
said Willis, turning to the boy.
"I'll see, sir," said the boy; and,
taking the card again, he backed away.
The newly married couple looked
curiously at each other. "A mis-
take," said Willis, tossing his head as
if to fling off the incident; and, smil-
ing, he turned toward his bride. But
she moved away. Until the intrusion
of this other woman had passed, she
felt that things were not quite as they
had been.
Another rap at the door; and then
the bell boy was saying —
" She says that she has an appoint-
ment with you, sir — and that she don't
know anything about any other lady,"
looking significantly at Mrs. Willis.
Willis gasped and turned toward
Mrs. Willis.
" You had better see her," Mrs. Wil-
lis was saying icily.
"But I don't know her," stormed
Willis. " You — would you come down
with me?" He seemed to doubt
whether she would or not ; and the
doubt settled it. If he had taken it as
a matter of course, she would have
gone; but he clearly thought that the
proper thing for her to do was to stay
where she was — and she would stay.
"The card is not for me," she said
with determination; and then seeing
Willis still hesitate in painful doubt,
she relented toward him and added
kindly — " You will probably find it is
a mistake when you get there."
"Very well," said Willis; and he
brushed off the shoulders of his coat
and smoothed his hair, and went.
Curiosity had nearly driven annoyance
out of the face that he turned to her in
going; so that when the door was quite
closed Mrs. Willis started to say —
" I wonder — ;" and then caught her
breath and bravely refused to wonder.
II
There was only one lady in the par-
lour ; and she wore an expectaqt air.
She also wore a flaming hat and a
costume which made the red plush
furniture look dull.
"Miss Stanley?" said Willis, bow-
ing,
"Yes," said the girl, getting up with
"58
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SHAW'S COMEDY
259
a bright smile that was almost start-
iiog in its sudden vivacity. '* So you
finally decided to see me?*' There
was challenge in her tones.
"I could not well do otherwise,"
replied Willis with wondering resent-
ment.
The girl smiled confidently and said
— ** I should think not, after your
promise. "
•* My promise?" — in open astonish-
ment
** Well, it was equivalent to a prom-
ise surely. You said that you would
see me when you came to the city in
connection with your wedding trip — "
** I — said — my — wedding trip?" Wil-
lis managed to get out.
** Yes, you really did. I know that
you have so much to think of, but you
really wrote me that or I would never
have bothered you." The girl was
quite serious now; and Willis noticed
that she was a good deal older than
she had seemed when he came in.
•* But—" Willis began.
•' Oh, ril believe you if you say you
have forgotten it," she broke in. *' I
dare say," — a little sadly — "you have
made the same promise to twenty other
ladies—"
«' But I haven't,'* burst out Willis.
•*Well, I'm glad to hear it," she
said with apparent relief. " But you
remember me? — Miss Stanley — Miss
Estelle Stanley of the < Night Off'
Company ?"
Willis stared at her with open mouth.
Then, realizingf how ridiculous he must
look, he quickly recovered himself.
** I_I_have seen—* A Night Off,' "
he said lamely.
A curious smile flitted across her
face. *• Really!" she said with obvious
irony.
** Were you in it?" he asked.
"You never saw me in it," she re-
plied coldly. " But, really, Mr. Shaw,
if you have already chosen your bride
for your wedding trip, there is no
need of all these theatricals. I think
I could fill the bill, and I wanted the
chance; but I dare say I shall get on
without it. I am sorry that I inter-
rupted you. Good afternoon!" And
she swept past him with a walk very
suggestive of the footlights, and down
the hotel corridor toward the elevator.
Instinctively, Willis stepped into the
hall to watch that she did not try to
jump down the shaft.
Ill
Mrs. Willis had hardly had time to
wish that she had put her pride in her
pocket and gone with Willis when
there was a quick rap on the door of
her room and the handle was instantly
turned. The door opened, and a
smooth-shaven, reddish, rather greasy
countenance was thrust through the
opening.
"Ah! 'beg pardon!" said a hoarse
voice. " Isn't this Shaw's room ?"
** Ye-es," said Mrs. Willis tremu-
lously.
A part of a neatly dressed, stout fig-
ure followed the shining face through
the aperture, and the smallish eyes
looked quickly all around the apart-
ment. "He's out, isn't he ?" jerked out
the pudgy lips.
"Yes — but just for a moment," said
Mrs. Willis. She was getting quite
frightened, and noted with horror that
the bell button was right at the door.
"Ah! Perhaps you're the bride,'*
cried the little man, now coming quite
into the room and smiling tentatively.
"Yes," said Mrs, Willis. It was
little more than a whisper now. "Are
you a friend of Mr. Shaw's?" she man-
aged to ask.
"An old crony," — and the stout lit-
tle man wiped his bald head with a
handkerchief that gave off a wave of
strong perfume which its appearance
indicated that it needed.
Mrs. Willis's eyes indignantly de-
nied the "old cronyship," but other-
wise she preserved an armed neutrality
toward her visitor.
"Yes," went on the oleaginous
party reflectively, " Shaw and I have
had some times together. He's a
pretty game bird, I can tell you —
though he don't look it! No, he don't
look it. I'm not surprised that you're
surprised — "
The indignation in Mrs. Willis's
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
eyes had now become so frantic that
the little man thought it prudent to
pause a moment, and try to make out
the meaning of these signals.
'* I am sure that you are entirely
mistaken about Mr. Shaw/' said Mrs.
Willis in a tone which she meant to be
cold and firm; and it might have been,
if her under lip had not been trembling
and a new indignation filling her throat
because Willis dared to stay so long
away with that '* strange woman/'
while she, his bride of a day, was be-
ing insulted by this odious creature.
The pig-like eyes of the fat little
man moved restively, but he said
nothing.
** Perhaps," went on Mrs. Willis,
"you had better wait for Mr. Shaw
down in the office."
At this the pig eyes flashed in a
steely manner. *• Perhaps," said their
owner aggressively, **you do not
know that I am the manager of the
Booth Theatre ?"
** I quite believe it," said Mrs. Wil-
lis with crushing contempt.
"You'd better believe it," rejoined
the little man, now thoroughly angry.
"You may have cause, if you go on
with Mr. Shaw, to learn that it is true."
And he wagged his head warningly.
" Sir!" cried Mrs. Willis. It was
all that she could get out. Then she
pointed silently to the door.
"As you wish, Lady Macbeth,"
snapped out the pudgy lips from a
face now purple with thoughts of ven-
geance; and he flustered out and slam-
med the door after himself.
IV
The little man was just in time to
catch the elevator. A brightly dressed
lady was in it already, and there was
something familiar about her face.
He looked at her enquiringly, when she
smiled and bowed.
"You don't know me, Mr. Samson?"
she said archly.
" Yes I do. Yes I do," he returned
jocosely. "But I've just forgotten
my cue. See! — don't I come on like
this?" — and he held himself in what he
thought was an imitation of the Irving
manner — " and, say — * Beautiful day,
Miss — Miss — ' "
"Stanley?"
"Miss Stanley! — Sure! Why, you
were at the Booth last fall ?"
««Yes— *A Night Off.'"
"Yes, yes." They were walking
by now across the office. " Well, I
have to stay here," announced Mr.
Samson, "to meet a good fellow gone
wrong."
"Are you going the rest of the
way with him ?" asked Miss Stanley
brightly.
Mr. Samson grew suddenly serious.
" Not if the court knows itself," he
declared emphatically. " It's a fool
friend of mine who has written a play
— a good play — a delicate piece of
comedy — no * knock-about,' no gaJ-
lery * make-up ' — nothing of that sort.
And then, what do you think he has
gone and done ?"
Miss Stanley shook a smiling face
at him.
" He has picked out for his leading
lady a sort of a sawed-ofF, weeping
Lady Macbeth, who thinks it's a sin to
joke, who talks like East Lynne all
the time, who threatened to have
hysterics When I mentioned that Shaw
was * one of the boys' — "
''Shaw?"
"Yes."
''So that was what he turned me
down for," she shot out savagely, her
face aging ten years in a breath, and
green venom spitting from her eyes.
Mr. .Samson turned and looked at
her understandingly. He did not have
to have things like this explained to
him.
" When did you see him ?" he asked
quietly.
" Just'now — upstairs. I had to tear
him away from the lady who is to play
in his play, because she loves him."
*• Loves him?"
" Certainly. Can't you see that
much .from what you have told me
yourself ?"
Mr. Samson whistled.' "And I'm to
wait here — * in the office ' — for him,
until his lovey-dovey sends him down
tome? Well, I'll— wait."
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SHAWNS COMEDY
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It was about half an hour before
•• Billy " Shaw came out of the smok-
ing-room and crossed the office. Mr.
Samson saw him, and diverted his
walk so as to meet him.
**Tear yourself away?** Samson
asked sarcastically.
** Hello, Morris! I've been wonder-
ing why you didn't turn up."
•* Have you ?*'
••Sure. What's the matter ? Been
imbibing ? Now, see here, you come
right along up to my room, and — **
'•No, you don't!"— emphatically.
••Why?"
•'Been Ihere."
•• Oh!— well, I thought you'd sort of
look for me in the smoking-room, you
know. Very sorry, old chap, that
you've been kept waiting. But — come
and have a drink, anyway."
•• No, I won't," said Samson bluntly.
•• See here, Billy, I just want to tell
you one thing, and that is that you
are the absolute limit in the way of a
fool!"
Billy stared at him a moment, and
then said •• Thank you!" but there was
more wonder than resentment in his
face.
•• The absolute limit!" insisted Sam-
son, smashing one fist down on the
other hand. ••You've got an Ai play,
and you have picked out a leading
lady who ought to be on the nursing-
bottle yet — who don't know — "
•• Great Scott! Have you seen her?"
••Have I seen her? Has she not
bidden me • Be hence!' as if I were a
three-act villain ?"
•• From where? Where did you see
her?"
•• In your room."
••Moly Hoses! How did she get
there! Say, you simply must come and
have a drink."
VI
When Willis and Mrs. Willis came
out into the corridor to go down to
dinner that nrght they had the look of
people who thought that they were
being ••put upon." There were signs
of weather on Mrs. Willis's face, and
a storm still threatened from Willis's
brow. But it was plain that all ques-
tion as between them had been dis-
missed. Willis had indignantly denied
that he had ever ••had a time" with
the •* horrid, greasy little man," whom
he did not even know; and Mrs. Willis
had believed him. Then he had told
her of the mysterious talk of the scarlet
girl; and Mrs. Willis was convinced
that they were in league to bring
sorrow to the sweetest love-match the
world had ever known. Just why they
wished them ill the bride was not quite
sure; but, in her innermost heart, she
thought it was ••envy." Now, when
they stepped into the corridor, she
' could hardly keep from taking Willis's
hand, simply to show that they were
••one and indivisible," and that noth-
ing could ever, ever separate them.
In the dining-room the considerate
head- waiter gave them a table to them-
selves. They each ordered • • soup " as
a preliminary; and then fell to advising
each other over the menu card.
Somewhere after the fish, their
waiter approached Willis, and said —
••There is a lady in the office asking
for you, sir."
Instantly there was fight on Willis's
face, and a despairing ••Just as I
expected," on that of Mrs. Willis.
••You tell the •lady,'" said Willis
firmly, • • that I am at my dinner. " Mrs."
Willis looked her surprised admiration
at him for this stern, and yet quite
proper, reply.
••She knows that, sir — but she's
scribbled something on her card here;"
and he. rather unexpectedly, handed
Willis the card.
Willis went white and red and black
all at once as he read the name again —
Miss Estelle Stanley
Under it was written, •* Mr. S. says
that you want to see me again, and I
am leaving town in an hour."
Willis handed the card silently to
Mrs. Willis. As she read the nam^
her deep blue eyes flashed up at him
again with a look that said here was
corroboration of her darkest suspic-
ions; and then she looked quickly back
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
to read the pencilling. As she did so
her lips set. "I don't believe she is
going to leave in an hour/' she said
decidedly, as if that were the chief
point at issue.
Willis glanced warningly toward the
waiter, and then asked — ** What shall
I do, dear?"
" I don't know,'' said the bride, des-
perately pushing the whole responsibil-
ity over on him; and then she quickly
added — ** I don't think you ought to
see her," thus limiting his ability to
carry the burden gracefully.
Willis sat back in perplexity; and
just then he noticed a slick, plump lit-
tle'man carrying a shining silk hat in his
hand, hurriedly following the head-
waiter into the room. They seemed
to be coming to the table next — no, to
their table.
'*A gentleman to see you, Mr. Shaw,"
announced the head-waiter blandly.
Willis stood up in stiff hauteur; the
gentleman turned two pig-like eyes on
him, and then said —
** I beg your pardon, I am sure; but
this is a mistake, I think."
** I am sure of it," returned Willis.
Quick resentment crossed the puffy
little face; then his eyes fell on Mrs.
Willis. At this he turned with a new
assurance to Willis, and said —
** When do you expect Mr. Shaw in
to dinner?"
Willis opened his mouth to say
something, but could hardly think
what it ought to be. Mrs. Willis,
now recognizing the voice, turned
quickly and looked at Samson. Then
a flash of triumph lit her face.
** So," she said over her shoulder,
without thinking how it would sound,
**you don't even know who Mr. Shaw
is when you see him ?"
Samson began to see a ray of light.
** Is your name Shaw ?" he asked of
Willis.
** It is."
"Well, you are not the Mr. Shaw
I'm looking for," he said; '*and I beg
your pardon — and this lady's, too."
** This lady is Mrs. Shaw," returned
Willis, at which Mrs. Willis visibly
stiffened with satisfaction.
'* Glad to know you," said Samson,
bowing with great politeness; a per-
formance which was rather marred by
his finding a heavy hand on his shoul-
der when he went to recover.
*' Looking for me, Morris ?" asked
the owner of the hand
♦'That's what I am, Billy," said
Samson, turning his fat neck around
to see the newcomer. •* And say," he
burst out, '* here's where the 'funny
man' unravels the complication and
lets the curtain get down. Let me
make two Mr. Shaws known to each
other — two; one " — putting his hand
on Billy's shoulder — 'Hhe author of
the very finest comedy ever written,
entitled * Their Wedding Trip,' and
the other ?" — and he waved an invita-
tion to Willis to describe himself.
For a hot second Willis thought
that he was being insulted. The only
wedding trip he knew of was his; and
these people certainly seemed to be
trying to make a comedy of it. But
the friendly, unsuspecting smile on the
face of the two men made this theory
appear impossible. So Willis resolved
upon an adroit move.
** Have you your comedy with you?"
he asked.
•* Sure!" exclaimed Billy. " I sleep
with it on my person." And he drew
from somewhere about t^e skirts of
his coat a large, flat book. '* This is
the first act," he went on gaily, hand-
ing it to Willis, who read on the out-
side
THEIR WEDDING TRIP:
A SOCIAL COMEDY
BY
WILLIAM B. SHAW.
*' What I am up against now," said
Billy, as Willis was awkwardly leafing
it over, ' ' is the selection of the right
kind of a girl to play the ^ bride.' "
Instinctively Willis looked toward
Mrs. Willis, and she met his look with
a corroborating smile. They both
knew exactly what an ideal bride
should be like. Samson tipped Billy a
wink and cleared his tliroat.
*'Now," he said, '*if my friend could
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Sm GILBERT PARKERS •* OLD QUEBEC'
263
get a lady like yours, whose acquaint-
ance I formed under rather inauspicious
circumstances to-day, he would be very
fortunate."
'* I should not think of going on the
stage," said Mrs. Willis with decision,
looking to Willis for commendation of
her self-sacrifice.
Billy turned a reproachful eye on
Samson, which reminded him of the
things he had said of Mrs. Willis when
he thought she was to be the *' bride;"
but Willis said nothing, for he was
blushing again and wondering if the
men suspected that Mrs. Willis was
really a bride.
*' Well, I am sure that I wish you
success," said Willis at last, handing
b&ck the manuscript play.
'M only hope that it approaches
yours," returned Billy politely ; and
then Willis was sure that they ''knew."
Bowing, they withdrew to the dpor,
where Miss Stanley's hat now loomed
uneasily, like a sunset.
•*So that was it," said Willis, with
a sigh of relief, as he sat down again.
But Mrs. Willis was trying to see
the face under the sunset. ** To think
of that woman," she muttered, ''tak-
ing the part of a bride." And she
assumed her expression of sweetest
innocence that Willis might appre-
ciate the contrast.
SIR GILBERT PARKER'S "OLD QUEBEC"
By WILLIAM WOOD, President of the Literary and
Historical Society of Quebec
IR GILBERT PARKER is
a Canadian; he has made
a special study of the
older part of Canada ; and
he first came into vogue
with a novel about Quebec in the time
of Wolfe and Montcalm. These re-
markable qualifications need to be
pointed out at once; because they are
all so modestly concealed beneath the
many pages of his " Old Quebec " that,
if they were not pointed out before be-
ginning the book, no one — least of all
a Quebecer — would even suspect their
existence. His readers should also
bear in mind that this book is not only
the work of a specially qualified man,
writing on his own special subject,
but also the final result of a particularly
long and careful preparation; for its
appearance was heralded by announce-
ments in the press during the two
years before its actual publication.
Naturally enough, all this aroused
high expectations among the large and
increasing public, which is becoming
more and more interested in this fas-
cinating subject.
But, somehow or other, in spite of all
Sir Gilbert Parker's advantages, and
in spite of his being so well-advertised
an authority on all things Canadian, he
has only succeeded in producing one
of those very commonplace specimens
of book-making which prove how
many thousands of words can be writ-
ten all round about a given subject,
without once touching any of its vital
issues, much less reaching the heart of
it. Of course, the book may be popu-
lar enough with those who have an
appetite for a richauffi of dilettante
details, sentimentalised to taste. And
all this public needs is the time-hon-
oured recommendation, that those who
like this sort of thing will find this the
sort of thing they like. But, for the
sake of those others who are a little
more exacting, it might be worth while
to examine this work a little more
*A review of "Old Quebec, the Fortress of New France." By Sir Gilbert Parker and
Claude G. Bryan. London and New York, Macmillan, 1903. N.B. — This review was
originally written in December, 1903; but circumstances delayed its appearance till the
present time.
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THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE
closely, both as literature and as his-
tory.
AH novelists may be included in
three great classes — the dramatic, the
melodramatic, and the stagey. Those
in vogue to-day generally hover about
the borderland between the stagey and
the melodramatic; and with these Sir
Gilbert Parker, who is nothing if not
fashionable, is perfectly at home. He
shines as a star of the first magnitude
upon that great world whose moon is
Miss Marie Corelli and whose sun is
Mr. Hall Caine. And though he once
went astray into another solar system,
where he and his ** Donovan Pasha"
became visible to the naked eye as sun-
spots on Mr. Kipling, he escaped with
nothing worse than* a singeing, and
has now come back again to his proper
place in literature with his '*OId Que-
bec." For here is what he calls his
own "assimilation" of *• history" —
to which he might have added ''En-
glish and French folklore."
Some of his English, indeed, may
have been made up expressly for the
readers of his "Old Quebec." For
instance, the "Lower Town" that
"huddles in artistic chaos," and the
"churches, convents and schools hud-
dled together in the fairest city of the
New World." He is also quite pos-
sibly original with his ^^ brave Vaud-
reuil" and ''ruggedVitX.:' Could all the
curiosa felicitas of Mrs. Malaprop her-
self have made a "nicer derangement
of epitaphs"? The term ^''grisly vet-
erans" must come from that "assimi-
lation" which has produced so many
other new ways of treating old quota-
tions. Edgar Allan Poe is "assimilat-
ed" when we are told how "the great
continent of promise would renew in
France the glories that were Greece,
and the grandeur that was Rome;"
and Wordsworth, when the authors
meditate on "Old, far-off^ unhappy
things." These two changes can only
be unconsidered trifles to the author of
them; for they amount merely to the
substitution of the plural for the singu-
lar in one case, and the transposition
of adjectives in the other. Yet neither
mistake could possibly be made by
anyone with true poetic intuition.
Both are of the same significant kind
as this stray newspaper perversion —
"Ah Love ! in truth, half ice, half fire;
And all a wonder and a brave desire ! " —
where one incorrect vowel-sound makes
all the difi'erence between harmony and
discord; except, of course, to tone-deaf
ears. The crowning glory of "as-
similation" is reached when a passage
from the Bible is so much improved
that it will actually bear comparison,
on perfectly equal terms, with one tak-
en from "The Seats of the Mighty."
Here is the revised quotation from the
Bible, as it appears in "Old Quebec":
"The savage Indian with his reeking
tomahawk might break through and
steal, the moth and rust of evil admin-
istration might wear away the fortunes
of New France . . ." And here is
the revised version of the " Seats of
the Mighty": "A vague melancholy
marked the line of [Wolfe's] tall un-
gainly figure . • . and a chin, falling
away from an affectionate sort of
mouth, made, by an antic of nature,
the almost grotesque setting of those
twin furnaces [Anglice "eyes") of dar-
ing resolve; which, in the end, fulfilled
the yearning hopes of England. " Com-
pare this with Thackeray's little in-
cidental sketch, written long before
Wolfe's life had been fully revealed
by modern research! But Thackeray
wrote literature.
"Assimilated" French is a thing to
set one's teeth on edge. We would ven-
ture to suggest that Sir Gilbert Parker
might save a great deal of very dis-
tressing trouble by imitating the in-
genious undergraduate who headed his
Greek paper with a neatly drawn pill-
box, filled with accents, and labelled,
"to be used at the discretion of the ex-
aminer." For he uses accents where
they are quite right, as in RtcolLet^
while leaving them out in such expres-
sions as Bois hri^les^ where the want of
them changes the meaning from "half-
breeds" to what might be mistaken for
an impatient apostrophe to the camp-
fire I Of course, everyone in the French
army is given a superabundance of
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SIR GILBERT PARKER'S ''OLD QUEBEC"
265
**acutes" — Ripentigny^ Ramdeay^ and
soon. But such **foreigneering"things
are carefully removed from the names
of British officers like Barre and
MontresoK One poor s is all that is
allowed for the gentilhommes who
"gave themselves to pick and spade.*'
And the innocent coijfe poudre (!)
of the "seigneur's wife" is mas-
sacred in cold blood, with the most
heartless indifference to the claims of
the female sex. But it is in his tran-
scription of the famous epitaph on
Montcalm that Sir Gilbert Parker has
surpassed even himself. '^Honneur a
Montcalm: le Destin, en lui d^robant
la Victoire, I'a r^compens^ par une
Morle gorieuse ! " We always used to
think that Montcalm's great recom-
pense was a glorious death ; but this up-
to-date authority assures us that it real-
ly consisted of a splendid female corpse !
As for Folklore, Sir Gilbert Parker
seems to have no conception of the
complete difference between the per-
sonal lyric and the impersonal folk-
song. And as all folklore lives on
longest in remote country places, and
withers away in the unsympathetic at-
mosphere of towns, it is rather unfor-
tunate that he invites us to listen for
the old songs 'Mown by St. Roch or up
by Ville Marie," f.^., in Quebec and
Montreal, the two least likely spots in
the whole of French Canada. What
on earth does he mean by a ''crude
epic of some valiant atavar?" Are we
to hail him as a second "coiner of a
word unknown to Keats" — not to men-
tion the great new Oxford dictionary ?
Or is atavar only his " assimilation " of
avatar^ In this case we might remind
him that the crudest epic of the first
avatar of Vishnu tells how the