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iiiii 


vUcCf  Jto^l 


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Toronto  Public  Library. 


Reference  Department. 


THIS  BOOK  MUST  NOT  BETAKEN   OUT  OF  THE  ROOM. 


3^9  9  -  191* 


CKs 
CIR 


-2-^X3^ 


■CBC-feu^^i"™'"''''™"'"!™™'"''''''''''''™'""''"*'" 


VOL.  XVI. 
NO.  1 


CANADA 
MONTHLY 


LONDON 
MAY 


■inminiiiiiigiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiniiiTniBniiinniiiniiiniinniniiiingignininniniininini 


iiHiiiiiiiiiiiujiiiiiiiiiiiii[Cm:''|IpAimiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiuiiw^^^ 

14   !§!• 


iuaiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiijiiiiimii 


The  Confidence's  Last  Tow 


"CARDS  ARE  JUST  ONE  OF  THE  MANIFESTATIONS  OF  POKER."  SAID  THE 
VIRGINIAN.  "THERE'S  MEN  WHO'LL  PLAY  WINNIN"  POKER  WITH  WHATEVER 
HAND  THEY'RE  HOLDIN'  WHEN  THE  TROUBLE  BEGINS.  MAYBE  IT  WILL 
BE  A  MEAN.  TRIFLIN'  ARMY,  OR  AN  EMPTY  SIX-SHOOTER,  OR  A  LAME 
HAWSS.  OR  MAYBE  NOTHIN'  BUT  JUST  THEIR  NATURAL  COUNTENANCE." 
WITH  MEN  OF  THAT  CALIBER  THIS  STORY  DEALS,  AND  OF  THEIR  DEEDS 
THE  COLOR  AND  ROMANCE  OF  LIFE  ARE  MADE 


CURRAN     turned     quickly 
from   the  telephone    with 
the  receiver  still  at  his  ear. 
"Jim,"  he  called  excited- 
ly from  the  inner  office.   "Where's 
Jim  ?" 

"What  is  it  ?"  answered  Brockel 
leisurely,  coming  in  from  out-of- 
doors  where  he  had  been  taking  a 
look  at  the  weather. 

"What  tugs  have  we  in  ?" 
Then,  to  the  'phone.  "Hold  on 
a  minute,  Baxter.  Don't  be  so 
peevish." 

"Nothing,"  was  Brockel's  la- 
conic response.  "All  out  but  the 
Hattie.  You  know  she's  on  the 
ways  having  new  bow  plates  put 
on  to  buck  the  ice." 

"Pshaw."  Then  to  the  'phone 
again.  "Wait  a  minute,  can't 
you  ?" 

"The  Big  Mac's  over  at  the 
Port  with  a  scow.  »  3  Alex's 
gone  to  the  Sault  for  the  Gov- 
ernment dredge.  Neither  of  'em 
can  get  in  before  Saturday. 
What's  wrong  ?" 

"I'm  afraid  we  can't  help  you, 
Baxter.  Haven't  got  a  thing  that 
would  pull  a  stone-hooker  in 
sight.  Better  try  Duluth."  Then, 
hanging  up  the  receiver,  "The 
Strathcona's  aground  on  Thorn 
Island.  Cracked  her  rudder 
post  in  the  blow  on  the  trip 
and  they  couldn't  do  anything  but 
let  her  drift.  The  people  all  got  ashore 
in  the  boats  but  Baxter  wanted  our 
tugs  to  see  if  we  couldn't  pull  her  off. 
He's  afraid  she'll  bust  up  in  this  gale. 
Hang  it,"  the  junior  partner  continued, 
"it's  just  like  our  luck  to  have  to  pass 

Copytithl  19  U 


By  Edward  J.  Moore 

Illustrated  by  Frank  D.  Brady 


WE  LL  GET  A  STRAIN  ON  HER  IIEKK,      SHOt 
STERN.      "SEND  OVER  A  COUPLE    O'  TUL 


up 


up  a  good  thing  like  that.  She's  likely 
got  her  holds  full  of  sugar  and  canned 
goods  for  the  West  and  the  job  would 
have  been  the  best  one  we've  had  in 
years.  Durn  it,"  as  he  jumped  up 
from  his  desk  and  walked  nervously 
over  to  look  out  of  the  window.  "If 
McQuarrie  had  let  me  build  that  other 

by  At  VANDERHOOF^UNN  COMPAN  Y.  LTD.     AU  rlthu  restrvtd. 


tug  we'd  have  paid  for  it  with 
this  ten  times  over." 

Five  minutes  later  Jim  Brockel 
walked  into  the  chief's  office 
just  as  the  latter  dictated  the 
last  letter  of  his  morning's  cor- 
respondence. 

"There's  the  old  Confidence," 
he  said  as  if  carrying  on  the 
former  conversation. 

Jim  Brockel  thought  slowly, 
though  the  fact  that  there  was 
usually  something  mighty  worth 
while  in  his  ideas  had  brought 
him  to  the  head  of  the  outside 
department  of  the  firm  of 
McQuarrie  &  Curran,  coal  and 
lumber  dealers,  and  in  a  small 
way,  wrecking  and  salvage 
agents. 

"What  are  you  giving  us, 
Jim  ?"  returned  the  chief  in 
surprise.  "The  Confidence 
hasn't  had  a  fire  in  her  for  two 
years.  You  couldn't  turn  her 
engine  over.  You  remember 
how  she  bucked  up  the  day 
Charlie  ran  her  up  to  the  picnic. 
Besides,  her  deck  beams  are  so 
rotten  you'd  pull  the  bollards 
out  of  her  if  you  could  get  her 
going.  You're  trj'ing  to  rag 
me,  aren't  you,  Jim  ?" 
™«  Jim    Brockel   had    a  .venera- 

tion for  old  things.  •,  'MV-.'lfii^ti,. 
though  he  could  well  afffeVd*  a'  beiy', 
ter,  in  a  cottage  tljat  had  borne'',^ 
the  brunt  of  twenfy^five  winters.  ' 
He  drove  around  j.'.'too,  on  Sun- 
days and  holidays  yfjaen  he  wasn't 
busy,  an  old  mare  thaJt'had  belongec^-" 
to  his  grandfather.  Ari^  *if  there  was' 
one  part  of  the  realty  of  McQuarrie  & 


10 

Curran  for  which  he  held  a  high  regard 
it  was  the  little  old  wooden  tug  Confi- 
dence that  Hugh  McQuarrie  had 
brought  up  the  lakes  with  him  when  he 
started  the  business,  thirty  years 
before.  The  old  boat  had  seen  a 
mighty  useful  life  of  service  but  had 
been  laid  aside  from  regylar  use  three 
or  four  years  before  and  had  only  been 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

Brockel  had  his  innings  with  the  tele- 
phone. 

"Hello,  Jack,"  he  called  to  Baxter, 
the  C.  P.  R.'s  local  agent,  "done  any- 
thing more  about  the  Strathcona  ?" 

"Jim  Finley's  gone  up  with  his  launch 
to  keep  in  touch  with  things  for  me," 
came  back  over  the  wire.  "Nothing 
new  from  up  there  since  what  I  told 


SHORTLY  AriER  MVE  O  CLOCK,  A  MIGHTY  HAMMERING  PROCEEDED  FROM  THE  ENGINE  ROOM 
OF  THE  OLD  CO.VFIDENCE 


used  occasionally  for  light  work  since. 
Once,  two  summers  previous,  she  had 
been  loaned  by  the  firm  to  carry  the 
overflow  from  a  picnic  party  over  to 
one  of  the  islands,  but  had  cracked  a 
thrust  collar  on  the  return  trip,  and  the 
party,  including  the  junior  partner's 
wife,  had  drifted  around  the  lake  in 
serious  discomfort  half  the  night  till 
picked  up  by  one  of  the  other  tugs. 
Since  then  she  had  been  held  pretty 
generally  in  disgrace  and  had  been  ly- 
ing, tied  up,  but  without  any  attention, 
in  the  least-used  section  of  the  firm's 
slips.  Brockel  hadn't  told  anybody 
that  he  had  been  down  a  few  days 
before  looking  her  over  with  a  view  to 
the  possibility  of  fitting  her  up  for  a 
pleasure  boat  for  himself  for  the  next 
summer. 

Brockel  was  by  nature  rather  inde- 
pendent and  when  such  a  reception 
was  given  his  really  serious  suggestion 
he  wasn't  likely  to  press  it  further.  He 
wasn't,  satisfied,  though,  to  let  the 
maftfer.tliwp '"completely.  The  oppor- 
•t'lVinfy  kept  Bothering  him  all  daj',  and 

•"•when,  in  the  mjddle  of  the  afternoon, 
,an  unexpected  telegram  called  Curran 

Vkway   to  one  oJ'.the   firm's  mills  up 
•country  another'-feature  appeared  in 

•;_tHe  situation., ",; 

"  :'.A.few  miiintes  after  the  express  was 
due' -to  h£tv«pUlled  out  of  the  station 


Curran  this  morning.  Old  man  Buck- 
ley of  Duluth  has  promised  to  go  up 
with  some  lighters  but  he  can't  get  his 
outfit  together  till  to-morrow  night. 
I'm  afraid  if  this  wind  keeps  up  it  will 
break  her  all  up.  Hear  anything  more 
from  your  tugs  ?" 

"No,"  returned  Brockel,  somewhat 
carelessly.  "We  were  naturally  anxious 
about  her,  that's  all." 

He  turned  from  the  'phone  though, 
with  a  smile  that  foreboded  action, 
muttering  to  himself:  "Buckley'll  wait 
to  take  stuff  enough  up  there  to  salvage 
a  liner,  and  he'll  likely  want  to  wait 
till  the  wind  goes  down  so  he  can  use 
pontoons  to  float  her.  By  hickory,"  as 
the  facts  of  the  case  seemed  to  strike 
him,  "I  believe  I'll  take  a  chance  with 
the  old  Confidence." 

"Charlie,"  he  called  a  few  minutes 
later,  to  the  engineer  of  the  Hattie, 
who  had  been  looking  after  odds  and 
ends  on  his  boat  while  she  was  up  on 
the  ways  having  her  new  bow  plates 
fitted,  "how'd  you  like  a  cranky  night's 
work  and  the  chance  of  some  fun 
to-morrow  ?" 

"What's  up  ?" 

"I  want  to  get  the  old  Confidence 
into  running  order  and  scoot  over  in 
the  morning,  before  Curran  comes 
back,  to  see  if  we  can't  yank  the  Strath- 
cona off  the  Thorn  Island  shoal.     I've 


a  hunch,"  he  went  on,  as  the  other  man 
looked  at  him  rather  dubiously,  'that 
she's  not  on  as  firm  as  Baxter  thinks. 
If  she's  up  on  the  west  end  there, 
where  this  east  blow'd  likely  carry  her, 
it's  sandy  and  sheUin'  and  slopes  off 
pretty  quick.  The  wind's  going  to 
shift  before  morning,"  he  added,  after 
a  glance  at  the  leaden  sky. 

"But  it'll  take  a  week  to  get  the  old 
boat  running,"  Charlie  objected. 
"That  thrust  collar  ain't  been  fixed  yet, 
and  the  steering  gear's  all  out  of  kilter." 

"I  know,"  Brockel  threw  back  with- 
out giving  time  for  further  objection, 
"and  the  old  engine's  rusty,  and,"  with 
a  meaning  glance  that  had  something 
of  suspicion  in  it,  "somebody  stole  her 
steam  gauge.  I  know  it  will  be  tough, 
Charlie,  but  look  here.  If  we  can  by 
any  chance  get  the  Strathcona  off 
there's  sure  to  be  a  few  thousand 
apiece  in  it  for  us.  I  want  you  and 
Andy  McGonigal  and  a  couple  more 
like  you  to  get  at  her  right  away.  I'll 
pick  up  a  few  more  of  the  boys  we  can 
rely  on  and  we'll  shoot  over  there  in  the 
morning." 

Jim  Brockel 's  success  had  come  as 
much  from  his  ability  to  inspire  confi- 
dence in  himself  and  his  plans  as  from 
any  other  factor.  And  this  quality 
stood  him  in  good  stead  in  the  present 
instance.  Most  of  the  men  pooh- 
poohed  his  idea  when  it  was  first 
broached  to  them,  but  the  fact  that 
shortly  after  five  o'clock  a  mighty  ham- 
mering proceeded  from  the  engine 
room  of  the  old  Confidence  proved  that 
he  had,  as  usual,  gotten  his  way. 

That  was  a  busy  night  on  the  old 
tug.  Whatever  Andy  McGonigal  did 
was  thorough  and  when  to  his  efforts 
were  added  those  of  the  nervous 
energetic  Charlie  Dean,  there  was 
assurance  that  matters  would  move 
along  with  all  satisfactory  dispatch. 
And  there  was  quite  enough  to  do. 

"Gosh  amighty,  she  looks  rum," 
was  old  Andy's  comment  when  he 
first  looked  into  the  engineroom  hold. 
And  Andy  was  not  far  from  the  mark. 

But  looks  didn't  count  for  much  in 
the  present  circumstances.  To  make 
her  run  was  the  pressing  need  and  these 
fellows,  knowing  the  job  thoroughly, 
set  about  to  do  it. 

About  three  o'clock,  the  hammering, 
which  had  continued  more  or  less 
incessantly  all  night,  ceased  suddenly. 
Brockel,  who  had  been  busy  with  a 
dozen  things  up  above  stepped  into  the 
engine  room  for  a  breathing  spell  just 
in  time  to  see  Charlie  opening  up  the 
main  valve. 

"Is  she  going  to  go,"  he  queried, 
with  a  grin. 

As  if  in  answer  the  steam  hissed  down 
into  the  one  big  cylinder,  and  the 
engine  started,  at  first  slowly,  then 
faster  as  the  acceleration  commenced. ' 

"Have  ye  got  her  well  tied   up  ?" 


Old  Andy  looked  up  at  him  with  a  well- 
pleased  grin,  as  the  engine  went  off 
smoothly.  "Better  take  a  look  and  see 
or  we'll  be  pullin'  the  snubbin'  posts  off 
the  dock." 

Brockel  and  the  remainder  of  his 
hastily-gathered  crew  had  also  been 
doing  their  share  on  deck.  Back  in  the 
stem  the  old  boat's  planking  did  indeed 
look  rather  rotten.  One  or  two  of  the 
crew  smiled  when  they  thought  of  her 
doing  any  towing  in  a  condition  like 
that. 

"One  of  the  first  things  we'll  do," 
Brockel  ordered,  "is  to  fit  up  some 
braces  for  the  towing  frames."  Again, 
he  took  two  of  his  boys  and  a  couple 
of  barrows  over  to  a  shed  behind  the 
company's  office.  "It's  some  special 
quick-firing  stuff  we  get  for  the  Winni- 
peg fire  engines,"  he  explained.  "I 
want  you  to  fill  those  coal  bunkers  up 
vrith  it  and  be  mighty  lively  about  it." 

About  four  a.  m.  after  the  spare  deck 
space  of  the  Confidence  had  been  fitted 
with  numerous  coils  of  hawsers  and 
food  enough  was  taken  aboard  to  keep 
a  bunch  of  hungry  men  going  for  a 
couple  of  days,  the  old  boat,  shivering 
a  good  deal  in  spite  of  the  recent 
repairs,  started  off  down  the  harbor. 

"She'll  do  ut,"  old  Andy  said,  down 
in  the  engine  room,  as  he  threw  the 
starting  lever  over  full  way  when  she 
left  her  dock  and  the  big  screw  began 
to  chum  around  behind.  "She'll  do  ut 
if  she  don't  kick  to  pieces  herself  and 
let  this  old  outfit,"  pointing  to  the 
engine,  "drop  down  on  the  bottom  o' 
the  lake." 

The  Confidence,  even  in  her  dotage 
as  she  was,  did  not  belie  her  name. 
With  a  force  of  steam  behind  her  that 
had  been  popping  from  the  escape- 
valve  off  and  on  for  the  past  two  hours 
she  ploughed  her  way  down  the  harbor 
atid  out  between  the  islands  at  the 
mouth. 

"We  can't  give  her  more  than  half 
speed,"  said  old   .'Kndy,   pulling  back 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

the    short    throttle   lever  after  they 
started. 

These  tugs  are  none  of  them  built 
for  speed,  but  when  you  start|  them 
off  with  nothing  behind  them  and  all 
power  on  they  can  show   their  heels 
to   many   a 
steam 
yacht.    The 
Confidence 
was    short 
and   stubby 
but    had    a 
li  u  n  d  r  e  d 


11 


>  SHE  GOINO   iO  GO?"  (iiJibUl£D  BROCKEL,  WITH  A  GRIN 


and  fifty  horsepower  in  her  old 
engine.  "She'd  dig  her  nose  in  an' 
bury  herself  if  we  let  her  go,  old  and 
worn  as  she  is,"  was  Charlie's  comment. 
Up  in  the  wheelhouse  Brockel  was 
straining  his  eyes,  trying  in  the  dark 
to  get  an  outline  of  the  islands.  He  had 
been  steering  by  ear  rather  than  by  eye 
so  far  and  now  the  steady  wind  in  his 
face  with  no  noise  of  shore  waves  on 
either  side  told  him  that  they  were 
well  outside.  He  handed  over  the 
wheel  to  one  of  the  boys  who  were  in 
the  wheelhouse  with  him.     "Keep  her 


stiaight  on.  Jack,"  he  said.  "We'll 
run  well  out  till  it  gets  light.  I  don't 
like  to  travel  too  close  to  the  Hog's 
Back  in  this  wind." 

Then  he  made  his  way  back  to  the 
engine  room  and  grinned  down  at  the 
two  men  who  were  keeping  themselves 
busy  with  wrench  and  oiler.  "The  old 
tub's  got  some  speed  yet,  eh  ?  I 
think,"  with  a  glance  at  the  main 
valve,  "you  can  give  her  a  notch  more, 
Andy.  I'd  like  to  be  out  there  by  day- 
light." 

And  so,  for  the  three  hours  preceding 


THE  OLD  CONPIDBNCB  STILL  LIBS  THBRK.      YOU  CAN  SSK  WHAT'S  LKPT  OF  HER,  MOST  OP  HER  RAIL  AND  OSCK-HOUSE 
ROmO  AWAY  AND  HER  rUNNKL  SLANTED  AT  A  DRUNKEN  ANGLE 


12 

dawn  the  little  tug,  on  so  peculiar  a 
mission,  ploughed  her  way  up  into  the 
wind  over  the  thirty  miles  to  Thorn 
Island. 

The  first  rays  of  the  sun  revealed  the 
bleak  slopes  of  the  eastern  end  of  the 
island  about  three  miles  to  port. 

"Pretty  good  guessing,  Jack,"  said 
Brockel,  who  had  come  into  the  wheel- 
house  and  had  been  discussing  with  the 
others  the  probable  location  of  the 
stranded  steamer.  "Now  shoot  her 
over  closer  and  we'll  get  a  chance  to 
pick  her  up  as  we  run  along." 

The  run  along  the  north  shore 
revealed  nothing,  however.  "She 
must  be  up  on  the  west  end  all  right," 
Brockel  noted,  "and  all  the  better  for 
us,  especially  if  she's  in  the  sand.  Do 
ye  notice  how  the  wind's  swingin' 
round,  boys  ?  It'll  be  in  the  south 
before  noon." 

Ten     minutes     more    justified     his 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

opinion.  Rounding  the  western  point 
of  the  little  island,  which,  by  the  way, 
lay  miles  outside  the  usual  course  and 
consequently  bore  no  lights,  the 
watchers  in  the  wheelhouse  saw  a  mast 
and  a  funnel  and  then  the  hull  of  the 
steamer,  the  latter  mingled  indistinctly 
with  the  water  and  the  sand  in  the 
distance.  Half  a  mile  further  and  they 
were  able  to  make  out  something  of  the 
boat's  position. 

The  big  freighter  lay  with  her  nose 
pointing  shorewards,  though  there  was 
a  hundred  feet  of  water  between  her 
bow  and  the  beach.  Her  stern  had 
swung  around  a  little  but  riding  almost 
on  an  even  keel  she  rose  slowly  to  the 
long  rollers  that  the  end  of  the  two 
days'  eastern  gale  was  driving  in. 

"She's  been  drove  in  on  her  quarter," 
Brockel  said,  "and  the  wind's  twisted 
her  around  till  she's  caught  again  amid- 
ships.   She's  in  a  good  spot  for  us,  all 


right.  Wonder  if  they've  left  anybody 
aboard  ?" 

He  yanked  the  whistle  rope  for  a 
blast  that  should  have  brought  out  any 
of  the  stranded  boat's  crew  but  no  one 
appeared. 

"They  seem  to  have  given  her  up 
complete  and  left  her  alone,"  was  his 
comment.  "Something  queer  about 
this." 

It  leaked  out  a  few  weeks  afterwards 
that  an  officer  and  a  couple  of  the  crew 
had  been  left  with  the  steamer,  but, 
frightened  with  the  rolling,  and  the 
thought  of  being  alone  on  the  small 
island  in  the  dreary  stretch  of  waters, 
they  had  taken  the  last  boat  the  night 
before  and  had  made  for  the  lights  of  a 
distant  steamer  which  had  picked 
them  up  and  proceeded  on  her  regular 
trip  down  the  lake. 

Coming  nearer,  the  hurriedly-organ- 
Continued  on  page  00. 


In  Two  Flats 

By  Jeannette  Cooper 

Author  of  '' Juliana  in  Service."  "Philip's  Aunt,"  etc. 


MARY  found  Ethel  Herbert  in 
the  entrance-hall  looking  at 
the  names.  She  shifted  the 
florist's  box  she  carried  to 
her  left  arm  and  gave  Mary  a  gray- 
gloved  hand. 

"Do  you  live  in  these  apartments  ?" 
she  said.  "How  very  odd  !  I  never 
met  any  of  the  art  students  except  at 
the  Institute.  They  don't  seem  to  live 
where  my  friends  live."  She  ended 
with  the  little  laugh  that  she  had 
learned  at  the  voice-culture  place. 

"I  don't  suppose  they  would  object 
to  having  your  friends  in  their  neigh- 
borhood," said  Mary  with  the  faint 
smile  that  she  had  not  learned  any- 
where except  from  the  sentiments 
which  conversation  with  Miss  Herbert 
inspired. 

Ethel,  not  impervious  to  the  sarcasm, 
looked  only  amiably  superior.  "I 
should  think  not,"  she  smiled.  She 
shifted  the  box  again  and  pulled  up  her 
long  glove.  "I  don't  suppose  you  know 
Mrs.  Gardiner,  do  you  ?"  she  inquired. 

Mary  shook  her  head  and  prepared 
to  ascend  the  stairs. 

"She  has  just  moved  in,"  said  Ethel. 
"Are  you  going  to  walk  up  ?  I'll  go 
with  you.  Mrs.  Gardiner  is  on  the 
second  floor.  She  is  the  most  charm- 
ing woman  and  her  home  is  always  a 


meeting-place  for  the  most  delightful 
people.  She  is  having  an  informal 
affair  to-night  for  her  cousin,  who  is 
just  home  from  Paris.  I  am  taking  her 
some  American  Beauties.  He  gets  in 
from  New  York  this  morning,  I 
believe,  but  she  doesn't  expect  him  up 
until  evening.  He — oh  !  do  you  live 
on  this  floor  ?  Too  bad  you  are  not 
going  to  be  at  Mrs.  Gardiner's.  Her 
cousin,  you  know,  is  Dale  Robertson, 
the  artist!"  and  with  this  parting 
return  for  Miss  Meredith's  air  of 
indifference.  Miss  Herbert  smiled 
sweetly  in  farewell  and  disappeared 
into  apartment  C.  Mary  unlocked  the 
door  of  apartment  D  and  went  in  with 
a  conviction  that  this  world  is  full  of 
sickening  shocks. 

"If  you  had  called  as  I  wanted  to," 
said  her  sister,  Mrs.  Charteris,  sym- 
pathetic but  ^reproachful,  "she  would 
have  invited  you.  But  you  will  never 
take  advice,  Mary.  Even  about  little 
things  like  doing  your  hair  low  you  are 
so  obstinate.  You  are  just  like  Grand- 
father Meredith." 

"Did  he  do  his  hair  low  ?"  said 
Mary. 

"And  Edward  and  I  are  going  to  the 
Newton  reception,  so  you  will  be  alone 
all  the  evening.  Don't  you  want  to 
'phone  someone  to  come  over  ?" 


"No,"  said  Mary,  "I  am  going  to  put 
ashes  on  my  head  and  meditate  on 
Grandfather  Meredith." 

"Please,  Miss,  may  I  use  your  gas 
stove?  Something  has  gone  wrong  with 
ours." 

Mary  had  answered  a  knock  at  the 
kitchen  door.  Mrs.  Gardiner's  maid 
was  the  petitioner. 

"Certainly  !"  said  Mary. 

Mrs.  Gardiner's  maid  was  talkative. 
She  discoursed  on  Mr.  Dale  Robertson 
while  she  stirred  the  egg  into  the 
coffee. 

"I  don't  see  what  they  make  such  a 
fuss  over  him  for,"  she  said.  "Of 
course,  he's  goodlooking,  but,  my 
gracious  !  I  know  a  gentleman  that — 
Will  you  watch  that  chocolate  a 
minute,  Miss,  while  I  get  the  other 
bottle  of  cream  ?"  She  slipped  across 
the  little  dark  hall.  A  crash  followed 
her  disappearance.  Her  reappearance 
with  a  scared  face  followed  the  crash. 
"I've  broke  the  last  bottle,"  she  said. 
"I'll  have  to  run  to  the  depot.     It's 

only "  her  voice  died  away  down 

the  dark  stairway. 

Mary  tied  on  a  white  apron  of  Mrs. 
Charteris's  and  prepared  to  watch  the 
chocolate.  It  was  for  him  she  was 
doing  it.  Only,'  he  would  be  apt  to 
take  coffee.    Artists  always  took  coffee. 


"I  say,  Katie  !" — a  suppressed  and 
exasperated  voice — "is  there  any  place 
where  one  can  get  a  breath  of  fresh 
air  ?"  A  tall  young  man  blocked  up 
the  narrow  doorway,  and  at  once  the 
chocolate  leaped  in  the  kettle. 

"Look  out  !  you'll  have  that  over," 
said  Mr.  Dale  Robertson.  "Is  there 
any  way  out  of  this  , Katie  ?"  He  had 
the  air  of  one  who  has  escaped.  Evi- 
dently in  his  haste  he  had  failed  to 
notice  that  he  was  not  still  in  his 
cousin's  apartment.  Should  she  send 
him  back  to  the  drawing  room,  where 
he  belonged  ?  That  would  have  been 
Grandfather    Meredith's    method. 

"There  is  a  back  porch,"  said  Mary, 
and  pointed  the  way. 

"Thanks  !"  he  strode  across  the  tiny 
kitchen  and  stepped  out  onto  the  little 
porch.  "Heavenly  !"  he  said.  A 
brisk  air  blew  in  at  the  open  door. 

"You'll  take  cold,"  said  Mary, 
involuntarily,  urged  by  her  duty  to  the 
world  of  art. 

He  did  not  speak  for  an  instant. 
Then  his  voice  sounded  amused.  "I 
think  it  likely,"  he  said.  "You  couldn't 
get  my  overcoat,  could  you  ?"  The 
tone  was  of  one  accustomed  to  being 
served. 

"I  can't  leave  the  chocolate,"  said 
Miss  Meredith  stiffly.  Then  remem- 
bering Grandfather  Meredith's  back 
hair.  "There  is  a  golf  cape  hanging  in 
here." 

He  came  in  smiling.  "Where  is  the 
golf  cape  ?"  he  asked. 

"Behind  the  door." 

Mr.  Dale  Robertson  took  it  down 
and  put  it  around  his  shoulders.  "How 
do  I  look  ?"  he  said,  and  then,  too 
evidently  thinking  this  savored  over- 
much of  familiarity,  he  frowned  and 
glanced  around  the  room.  "What  a 
rambling  sort  of  place  for  a  flat.  Where 
does  that  door  go  ?"  he  said,  trying  the 
liandte. 

"Into  another  room,"  said  Miss 
Meredith  brieflv. 


"I  SAW  YOU  ON  THK  STAIRS  THB  riRST  DAY  I  CAMK, 
AND  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH  YOU" 

She  felt  his  eyes  upon  her.  "Ah  ! 
indeed  !"  he  said  rather  al)stractedly. 
"What  an  unusual  arrangement  !" 
He  stood  a  minute  longer  watching  her 
and  then  went  out  onto  the  porch. 
Mary,  who,  after  the  first  dazed  stare 
had  kept  her  eyes  on  the  chocolate 
kettle,  took  a  swift  glance  at  his 
retreating  form.    There  was  no  visible 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

halo.  Instead  of  that  his  broad 
shoulders  adorned  with  a  shabby  red 
cape  beneath  which  hung  solemnly  the 
tails  of  his  dress-coat  moved  her  to 
disrespectful  smiling. 

"You  ought  not  to  laugh  at  me  after 
lending  me  the  cape." 

He  came  in  and  closed  the  door 
behind  him.  His  eyes  were  ostensibly 
on  the  frescoes  with  which  Mary  had 
adorned  the  calcimined  walls. 

"I  wonder  who  did  these,"  he  said 
with  the  effect  of  desiring  it  under- 
stood that  he  was  not  addressing  any- 
one in  particular.  "She  slipped  up  on 
her  sky-line  here." 

Miss  Meredith  opened  her  lips  to 
speak,  but  closed  them  again  and 
turned  the  blaze  lower. 

"What  is  it  ?"  said  Mr.  Robertson. 
"Don't  you  like  having  your  kitchen 
criticized  ?  It  is  an  uncommonly  neat 
little  place" — glancing  around — "the 
Dutch  effect  is  well  carried  out."  He 
nodded  approvingly  at  some  Delft 
tiles.  Then  he  looked  back  at  Mary. 
"It  ought  not  to  be  Dutch  at  all, 
though,"  he  said  slowly,  "if  one  con- 
siders it  as  a  setting.  It  ought  to  be 
in  clear  marbles  with  a  rose-garden 
seen    through    pillars.      It    ought    to 

have "    Again  he  realized  that  he 

had  sought  this  part  of  the  house  for 
air  and  not  to  tell  the  cook  that  she 
was  classic  in  type.  He  retired  to  the 
porch  and  Miss  Meredith  allowed  the 
corners  of  her  lips  to  curl  maliciously 
upward. 

"You  were  laughing  again,"  he 
said,  standing  in  the  doorw^ay. 

She  lifted  the  spoon  and  watched 
the  chocolate  drip  from  it.  "I  did  not 
know  you  were  looking,"  she  said 
untruthfully. 

"I  was  looking  at  the  frescoes,"  said 
Mr.  Robertson,  also  untruthfully. 

"Is  the  sky-line  better  from  the  back 
porch  ?"  she  inquired. 

"It  is  very  bad  from  any  place,"  he 
responded. 

"Ah  !"  said  Mary. 

Mr.  Robertson  came  in  and  took  a 
turn  around  the  room,  eyeing  the 
frescoes  abstractedly.  He  paused 
beside  the  stove,  "What  did  you  mean 
by  that  'Ah  !'  ?"  he  demanded. 

And  at  that  instant  from  the  other 
apartment  came  the  voice  of  Mrs. 
Gardiner.    "Dale  !"  she  called. 

He  looked  a  speechless  request  at 
Mary  and  fled  to  the  porch. 

"Katie  !"  called  Mrs.  Gardiner. 
She  appeared  to  be  looking  from  her 
own  dark  kitchen  to  her  neighbor's 
brightly  lighted  one,  but  no  one  was 
within  her  range  of  vision.  She  called 
"Katie"  again  in  a  voice  increasingly 
anxious.    Then  she  went  back. 

Mr.  Robertson  came  in,  looking  half- 
ashamed  and  half-jubilant.  "Why 
didn't  you  answer  her  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  ?"  said  Mary,  sur|>rised. 


13 

"Yes,  she  called  'Katie  !'  " 

"Why  didn't  you  answer  yourself  ?" 
returned  the  cook;  "she  called  'Dale  1'  " 

Mr.  Robertson  was  very  silent.  "I 
half  wish  I  hadn't  come,  Katie,"  he 
said  slowly,  "it's  so  hard  to  go.  Did 
anyone  ever  paint  you,  Katie  ?" 

"I've  had  a  life-size  crayon  done 
from  a  photograph,"  said  Mary. 


"CONSIDERED  AS  A    SETTING,"    SAID   MR.    ROBfiRTSON,    "IT 
OUGHT  TO  BE  IN  CLEAR  MARBLES  WITH  A  ROSE- 
GARDEN  SEEN  THROUGH  PILLARS" 

"Heavens !  Frame  and  all  for  a 
dollar  !"  He  stood  and  staied  at  her 
as  she  locked  into  the  kettle.  "Pale 
gold,"  he  said  to  himself,  "and  clear 
ivory  and  the  blue  of  the  violets  that 
Sappho  was  crowned  with.  I  can  feel 
the  breeze  from  sunlit  Grecian  seas, 

Katie.     I  can  see "     He  broke  off 

and  strolled  away  again.  A  box  of 
crayons  stood  on  the  window-sill.  He 
picked  up  a  crayon  absently  and  went 
back  to  the  corner  where  the  defective 
sky-line  was.  The  red  golf  cape  slipped 
a  la  cavalier  from  one  shoulder.  He  put 
in  a  line,  then  another. 

Mary  forgot  the  chocolate.  She 
stood  with  Slipping,  upraised  spoon, 
her  awed  gaze  on  the  seemingly  care- 
less strokes  with  which  Dale  Robertson 
was  transforming  her  landscape.  Her 
indrawn  breath  smote  his  ear.  He 
wheeled  suddenly  and  stared  at  her. 

"Why,  Katie !"     he  said.     The 

red  cape  slipped  to  the  floor.  He  took 
one  step  forward. 

A  sudden  burst  of  voices  and 
laughter  !  A  rush  of  feet  in  the  little 
hall.  F"rom  the  doorway  Mrs.  Gar- 
diner, her  plump  and  charming  face 
wrinkled  into  wondering  laughter,  her 
guests  crowding  and  peering  behind 
her,  stared  into  Mary's  kitchen.  Miss 
Meredith,  with  chocolate  spoon  up- 
raised, stared  back.  Mr.  Robertson, 
crayon  in  outstretched  hand,  frowned 
in  the  background. 

"Dale  !"  rippled  Mrs.  Gardiner's 
pretty  apologetic  voice.    "What  in  the 

world "   and    then   came   another 

interruption. 

"Won't  you  please  let  me  in  with  the 
cream  ?"  implored  a  voice  from  the 
rear,  and  Katie,  her  cap  on  one  side, 
her  face  .scarlet  and  perspiring,  pushed 
her  way  through  the  guests  and  con- 
fnmted  her  mistress.  "I  dropped  the 
cream,"  she  said,  "and  the  depot  was 

shut  and   I've  been  runnin' "  her 

voice  broke  on  the  \'erge  of  tears. 
Contiiiue<l  on  page  ti.'j. 


Rosa  Experiments 

By  Lucille  Baldwin  Van  Slyke 

Illustrated  by  B.  J.  Rosenmeyer 


LILLY  and   the  twins  and   Rosa 
rushed    noisily    in    from   school 
crying      variously,        "  Wanta 
doughnut  !"         "  Doughnuts  '  " 
"Doughnuts  !"  and   "Mayn't  I  have  a 
raisin-cooky  ?" 

"Wait  a  minute,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Remson.  "You  haven't  any  of  you 
said  a  word  to  Aunt  Vance." 

The  four  faces  sobered  instantly. 
"Halloo,"  said  the  twins,  dismally. 

"How  d'you  do  ?"  asked  Rosa, 
shyly,  as  she  drew  nearer  and  held  out 
her  thin  little  hand.  Aunt  Remson 
smiled,  the  gentle  smile  she  uncon- 
sciously reserved  for  her  motherless 
niece. 

"My  land,"  wheezed  Aunt  Vance, 
"this  child  gets  more  pindling  all  the 
time.  William,  even  if  he  is  a  boy,  has 
got  more  fat  on  his  bones  that  she  has." 

"I  weigh  seventy -nine  pounds," 
chanted  Billy,  proudly,  "and  I  grew 
four  inches  just  this  last  year." 

"Sounded  like  it  when  you  come  up 
the  steps,"  responded  his  aunt,  dryly. 

"Now  can  I  have  a  doughnut  ?"  he 
demanded,  turning  to  his  mother. 

"Do  you  think  it's  good  for  them  to 
eat  between  meals  ?"  put  in  Aunt 
Vance. 

"They  do  get  so  hungry,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Remson.  "Meg's  doughnuts 
never  seem  to  hurt  anyone,  either." 

"Well,  I  think  all  sweets  are  bad," 
sighed  Aunt  Vance,  putting  her  hand 


to  her  cushiony  side.  "Doctor  Flan- 
nery  has  positively  forbid  my  touching 
them." 

Rosa,  rummaging  in  the  cooky  jar  a 
moment  later,  peered  naughtily  across 
the  Hd  at  her  cousins. 

"Doc-tor  Flummerty  has  pos-i-tively 
forbid,"  she  mimicked,  closing  her 
eyes  and  sighing  melodramatically. 

"Gosh,  but  I  hate  Aunt  Vance," 
sputtered  Billy,  his  mouth  full  of 
doughnut.  "She  makes  me  think  of 
mush." 

Rosa  shivered.  "I'm  glad  my  this 
year's  stay  is  over  there,"  she  sighed, 
"only  Ann  Mary  is  nice.  I  love  her 
Ann  Mary.  You'd  like  Ann  Mary, 
Billy,  for  she  makes  the  grandest  apple 
pie." 

"Shouldn't,"  snapped  Billy,  "should- 
n't like  any  place  nur  anybody  where 
Aunt  Vance  was." 

"I  shouldn't,"  decided  the  blue- 
eyed  twin,  "I  shouldn't,  either." 

The  brown -eyed  one  giggled.  "I 
should,"  she  insisted,  impishly,  "I  cer- 
tainly should." 

"You  should  not,"  shrieked  the  other 
as  they  chased  madly  from  the  pantry 
"You    should    not,"    her    thin    voice 
screamed,  "'cause  you're  my  twin  and 
you  couldn't." 

"Could  !"   taunted   the  other  from 

the  grape-arbor  fence.    Billy  and  Rosa 

sauntered  forth  to  watch  the  combat. 

"What  are  you  hanging  'round  here 


"O-OH,  THE  LITTLE  CHEAT   I"  SHE  THOUGHT.       "jUST  WAIT  TILL  I  TELL  BILL  ON    HI 


"COME,  OPEN  THE  DOOR  !" 

for  ?"    asked    Rosa    curiously    as    she 
nibbled  close  to  the  raisin. 

"Crowd's  gone  to  Bat  Weaver's,"  he 
responded,  laconically. 

"Play  hy-spy  if  I  get  enough  kids  ?" 
demanded   Rosa. 

Billy  considered,  loftily.  He  hated 
playing  with  girls;  it  was  only  a  little 
better  than  not  playing  at  all.  But  in 
view  of  his  recent  difficulties  with  Bat 
Weaver  he  could  not  consistently  enter 
into  the  neighborhood  revelries,  so 
when  she  had  rounded  up  die  twins, 
the  three  Schuyler  girls,  and  the  boy 
who  had  just  moved  across  the  street, 
he  consented  to  "count  out"  with  a 
glib  twisting  of  the  mystic  formula  that 
elected  the  new  boy  "it."  Rosa 
wriggled  breathlessly  through  the 
cellar  window  to  a  snug  nook  under  the 
side  veranda.  As  she  squirmed  close 
to  the  lattice  to  peer  out  at  the  new 
boy,  who  was  chanting  monotonously 
"forty-fi-an-fifty-fifty-fi-an-sixty — "she 
observed  that  his  half-shut  eyes  were 
slyly  searching  the  landscape. 
^"0-oo-ooh,    the    little    cheat,"    she 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


"I  WON'T  I"  SOBBHD  ROSA,  AND  THEN  THE  DOOR  r.vVE  WAY  WITH  A  CRASH 


thought,    disgustedly.      "Wait    till    I 
telljBill  on  him." 

Above  her  she  could  hear  the  creak- 
ing of  Aunt  Vance's  rocker  Her 
dolorous  voice  sounded  disagreeably 
clear  above  the  creaking. 

"You  ought  to  put  a  stop  to  her 
stroniping  around  so,"  said  the  lady, 
severely.  "She  isn't  allowed  to  romp 
around  s<^)  at  my  house;  to  my  mind 
thirteen  is  altogether  too  big  for  such 
goings  on"  Rosa  stuck  out  her  tongue 
in  the  darkness.  But  she  grinned  when 
she  heard  Aunt  Remson's  laugh. 

"She's  just  a  little  girl,  really,"  said 
Aunt  Remson.  "I  haven't  the  heart 
to  stop  her  fun,  Kate,  I  simply  haven't. 
Did  you  notice  what  beautiful  manners 
she  has  ?  Didn't  she  greet  you  nicely?" 
Rosa's  head  lifted  proudly 

"Huh,  manners  is  all  that  ever  will 
be  Vjcautiful  about  her,"  grunted  Aunt 
Vance.  "My  land,  I  never  saw  such 
a  limpsey-looking  child  anywhere.  She 
certainly  don't  get  her  plain  looks  from 
the  Stephenson  side  and  I  will  say  her 
mother  was  right  pretty  whatever  else 


she  was.  It's  a  mystery  to  me  how  she 
can  be  so  downright  homely." 

"Just  growing  fast,"  said  Aunt 
Remson,  lightly.  "She  has  lovely 
eyes  and  I  think  she  will  be  a  great  deal 
prettier  in  a  year  or  so." 

"Pretty  !"  snapped  her  sister-in- 
law.  "That  gawky  little  thing  pretty  ! 
Don't  be  such  a  fool,  Jane.  I  said  to 
Bert  when  I  sent  her  on  to  you  last 
month  that  it  was  no  wonder  to  me 
Frederick  didn't  mind  not  seeing  her 
mor'n  twice  a  year.  She  just  gets  on 
my  nerves.  I  could  stand  her  staring 
eyes  and  her  pindlingness— but  that 
hair  !  Just  stringy-looking,  I  call  it — 
you  can't  even  braid  it  smooth.  Put  it 
in  one  braid  and  it's  crooked — two  of 
'em  simply  look  like  rat-tails." 

Rosa's  hand  was  over  her  mouth 
smothering  an  impulsive  gasp  of  pro- 
test as  she  hunched  herself  into  a 
defiant  little  heap  behind  the  lattice. 
"Hateful  ole  thing  !"  she  whispered, 
hotly.  "She's  jus'  stringy -looking,  too  ! 
Ole,  fat,  bunchy-looking  stringy  ! 
Don't  care  at  all,  I  don't  !" 


15 

But  she  yanked  a  slender  braid  over 
her  shoulder  and  eyed  it  curiously.  It 
was  undeniably  limp  and  thin.  The 
anger  died  in  her  great  eyes  and  she 
stared,  bewildered.  She  was  quite 
unconscious  of  Aunt  Remson's  eager 
defense.  She  did  not  see  the  new  boy 
peering  through  the  lattice;  she  hardly 
heard  him  whooping  joyously  a  moment 
later  :  "Touched  the  bye  for  Rosie  1 
Yah,  she's  it  !" 

She  pulled  herself  wearily  through 
the  cellar  window,  crawled  up  the  stairs 
and  out  onto  the  back  veranda. 

"I'm  not  playing  any  more  after  I'm 
it,"  she  announced,  tragically.  "I 
wouldn't  play  now,  only  I'm  it." 

The  twins  stared  at  her.  "Aw,  you 
got  up  this  game,"  sputtered  Billy.  "I 
wouldn't  be  a  quitter  when  I'd  gone 
and  started  a  game." 

She  turned  her  back  mechanically 
and  began  counting  with  an  aching 
throat,  "Fi-ten-fifteen — "  Unconquer- 
able tears  forced  themselves  through 
her  tightly  closed  eyelids.  When  the 
game  was  over  she  refused  to  give  any 
explanation,  but  stalked  stiffly  into  the 
house  and  upstairs  to  her  bedroom. 

Her  fingers  were  shaking  as  she 
turned  the  key  and  listened.  Nobody 
was  following  her.  Standing  with  her 
back  to  the  door  she  gazed  straight 
across  the  room  to  the  dressing-table 
mirror.  With  the  blessed  unconscious- 
ness of  childhood  she  had  never  thought 
very  much  about  her  actual  appear- 
ance. Her  birdlike  glances  at  the 
mirror  had  been  to  gaze  proudly  at  the 
pretty  frills  Aunt  Remson  fashioned, 
or  to  scowl  at  the  prim  collars  Aunt 
Vance  always  bought.  But  now,  for 
the  first  time,  she  was  facing  with 
desperate  eyes  a  somebody  she  had 
never  seen  before.  Somebody  with 
straggling  hair,  with  a  stubby  little 
nose,  with  freckles  and  awkward  teeth, 
and  with  eyes  so  big  and  sorrowful  that 
she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands  and  wept. 

As  she  probed  for  a  handkerchief 
her  fingers  touched  the  leather  case 
that  held  her  father's  picture.  The 
sobs  grew  quieter  for  a  moment  as 
she  looked  through  her  streaming 
tears  at  the  beloved  face,  but  a  new 
misery  was  crowding  fast  upon  her 
first  grief.  A  great  pity  for  the  un- 
happy father  of  so  ugly  a  daughter 
possessed  her.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
all  the  sorrow  of  those  mournful  eyes, 
all  the  sadness  of  the  smileless  mouth, 
meant  that  he  grieved  because  he  was 
ashamed  of  his  unlovely  child. 

On  the  wall  beside  her  was  the 
calendar  with  the  days  checked  off  with 
tiny  dots  so  the  others  could  not  see 
and  laugh.  Only  last  night  she  had 
fallen  asleep  tingling  with  delight  as 
she  counted  the  days  until  she  could 
hear  the  deep  tones  of  his  dear  voice 
and  feel  the  swift  touch  of  his  lips  as  he 
kissed  her.     And  all   those  beautiful 


16 

dreams  of  the  time  when  they  should 
live  together  were  dying  as  she  stared 
at  the  picture.  He  would  never  want 
her — he  didn't  want  her  now  ! 

"Dear  Lord,"  she  sobbed,  crouching 
on  the  bedside  rug,  "it  isn't  fair — not 
a  bit  fair  !  You  didn't  have  a  right  to 
let  me  grow  so  homely  that  he  couldn't 
love  me.    It  isn't  fair  at  all  1" 

Presently  she  heard  the  twins  pound- 
ing on  her  door.  "We're  playing 
millinery  store  !"  shrieked  Elsa. 
"Come  on  out  and  trim  hats  !  We 
foundelegunttrimmin'supin  the  attic!" 
She  opened  the  door  slowly.  They 
looked  sharply  at  the  traces  of  her 
grief  and  demanded  its  reason.  "My 
tooth  ached,"  she  lied  bravely,  and 
then  sucked  remorsefully  at  her  molar 
to  rouse  a  tiny  hole  to  action  so  it 
would  not  be  a  lie. 

Elsa  promptly  put  her  grimy  fingers 
to  her  cherubic  mouth  and  drew  forth 
an  elastic  string  of  gum  which  she 
rolled  knowingly  in  her  smudgy  palm. 
'Stuff  it  in  good  and  hard,"  she 
admonished,  holding  it  out  to  her 
cousin.  "Don't  go  and  tell  mamma, 
'cause  the  new  dentrist  hurts  somethin' 
fierce.  I'm  never  going  to  tell  on  a 
tooth  again  as  long  as  I  live  !" 

The  twins  were  fearfully  and  won- 
derfully arrayed  as  became  real  millin- 
ers, in  sweeping  skirts  and  elaborate 
bodices.  Elsa  was  adorned  with  a 
gorgeous  necklace  which,  in  its  hum- 
bler, prehistoric  days,  had  begun 
existence  as  a  brass  curtain  chain. 
Eloise's  jewels  were  more  simple,  but 
quite  as  effective.  From  a  lengthy 
green  ribbon  about  her  neck  there 
dangled  a  queer-looking  locket.  "It's 
ole  black  tin,  I  guess.  I  play  it's  a 
vanerty  box,  only  it  won't  open,"  she 
scolded,  "not  even  when  you  bite  it." 
But  when  Mrs.  Remson  sought  for 
them  at  supper-time  she  caught  at  the 
"vanerty  box"  with  an  exclamation  of 
surprise. 

"It's  Frederick's  old  gutta-percha 
locket,"  she  explained  to  her  sister-in- 
law.  "He  wore  it  on  his  first  watch-fob 
and  we  used  to  tease  him  so  about  it." 
She  flicked  her  thumb-nail  at  the  spring 
fastening  as  the  children  crowded 
eagerly  about  her.  The  locket  flew 
open. 

"And  I  found  that  !"  breathed 
Eloise  in  awe-stricken  delight.  "I 
found  it  right  in  that  old  yellow  box  ! 
Oh,  my  soul  !" 

"Who  is  the  pretty  lady  ?"  asked 
Rosa  shyly. 

Aunt  Remson  put  the  locket  gently 
into  the  girl's  hand.  "It's  your  mother, 
sweetheart,"  she  said. 

Rosa's  fingers  closed  swiftly  over  it 
as  she  fled.  Upstairs  once  more, 
crouching  on  the  bedside  rug  again, 
she  gazed  rapturously  at  her  treasure. 
The  locket  was  fat  and  thick,  and  under 
the  dusty  glass  shone  afqueer  old  tin- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

type.  The  cheeks  were  tinted  \ery 
pink,  the  hair  very  yellow.  It  was 
not  stringy-looking  hair;  it  was  won- 
derful curly  hair.  The  eyes  smiled ;  the 
lips  smiled;  Rosa  smiled  back  at  them 
happily. 

"Oo-ooh,  aren't  you  swe-eet  !"  she 
murmured,  hugging  her  hands  to  her 
heart  so  tightly  that  the  locket  hurt 
her.     "Oo-ooh,  you  are  so  sweet  !" 

She  looked  at  it  again,  drawing  long, 
happy  breaths.  This  was  a  very  much 
nicer  mother  than  the  faded  photo- 
graph with  tired  eyes  that  hung  on 
Aunt  Rcmson's  wall.  In  the  other  side 
of  the  locket,  pressed  under  the  glass, 
was  a  curl  of  yellow  hair  tied  with  a  bit 
of  blue  ribbon.  On  the  little  oval 
paper  was  written  in  very  small  letters: 
"To. Frederick,  from  Goldilocks." 

Rosa  looked  at  the  curl  even  longer 
than  she  had  stared  at  the  picture.  At 
supper,  as  she  slid  into  her  chair,  her 
eyes  were  shining.  Aunt  Remson 
smiled  understandingly.  She  did  not 
mention  the  locket.  But  Aunt  Vance, 
sipping  her  cup  of  substitute  coffee, 
remembered. 

"Rosa,  what  did  you  do  with  that 
picture?"  she  asked,  sternly.  "It 
ought  not  to  get  lost  again,  seeing  your 
mother's  dead.  Ben,  did  you  know  the 
children  found  a  picture  of  Rosalie  to- 
day ?  Tintype — in  guttapercha.  I 
think  you  ought  to  put  it  in  your  safe 
until  Frederick  comes." 

For  the  third  time  in  that  awful  day 
Rosa  fled  to  her  room.  Elsa  dropped 
her  fork  in  amazement.  "Aren't  you 
going  to  make  her  behave,  mamma  ?" 
she  asked.  "She  is  so  rude  to-day. 
She  jumps  off  like  a  squirrel." 

In  the  twilight,  with  Aunt  Remson's 
hand  on  the  stringy-looking  hair,  she 
stopped  her  sobbing. 

"Honest,  shan't  she  ?"  she  question- 
ed, doubtfully.  "Honest,  won't  vou 
let  her?" 

"Honest,  she  shan't,"  comforted 
Aunt  Remson.  "It's  quite  yours  until 
father  comes,  and  I'm  sure  he'll  let  you 
have  it." 

Rosa  was  silent  a  very  long  time. 
"Aunt  Remson,"  she  said,  timidly,  "do 
you  love  folks — folks  who  aren't 
pretty  ?" 

"Um-m,"  murmured  Aunt  Remson, 
her  mouth  close  to  the  hot  cheek. 
"And  folks  who  are  pretty  and  sweet 
and  who  go 'to  bed  right  away  quick 
when  their  aunty  says  bedtime.  Good- 
night, dear;  I've  got  to  tuck  the  twins 
in  or  we'll  have  double  croup." 

Long  after  the  others  were  asleep 
Rosa  lay  wide-eyed  and  tried  to  forget 
the  homely  little  face  of  the  mirror  and 
remember  only  the  pretty  new  mother. 
She  did  not  cry  about  it  any  more. 

"I  guess,"  she  thought,  as  she  grew 
blessedly  drowsy,  "I  guess  the  Lord 
wouldn't  have  been  so  good  to  a 
regular  pretty  girl  and  sent  her  this 


locket.  He  must  jus'  know  how  I 
needed  you."  She  kissed  the  locket. 
"'Course  he  couldn't  love  me  very  lots, 
father  couldn't,  after  having  you — but 
I  want  him  to  !" 

During  the  rest  of  Aunt  Vance's 
visit,  and  indeed  long  after  she  had 
happily  terminated  her  stay,  Rosa  was 
quiet  enough  to  satisfy  the  most 
exacting  aunt.  She  moped  over  her 
books  0/  sat  lost  in  day-dreams.  Once, 
to  be  sure,  she  convulsed  them  all 
with  one  of  her  old-time  pranks.  She 
floated  to  bed  chuckling,  her  head 
covered  with  grotesquely  lumpy  sp<jts, 
"kids"  borrowed  from  Sadie  Atwater 
and  laboriously  adjusted  according  to 
the  profuse  directions  upon  a  box. 

The  before-breakfast  frolic  the  morn- 
ing following  was  hilarious.  They  were 
not  successful  curls  that  the  "kids" 
had  produced  on  Rosa's  head.  Her 
fine  locks  were  hopelessly  tangled  in 
unaccustomed  coils;  they  stood  out 
facetiously  at  the  wrong  places  and 
were  wickedly  straight  in  sections. 
Aunt  Remson  found  the  girl  and  her 
cousins  in  gales  of  laughter.  Without 
an  obliterating  shampoo  school  was 
out  of  the  question.  Of  course  it  was 
all  very  funny,  but  somehow  there 
was  a  nervous  strain  in  Rosa's  laughter. 
"I  s'pose,"  she  said,  soberly,  with 
her  head  over  the  radiator  in  a  frenzied 
attempt  to  get  properly  dried  before 
school,  "I  s'pose.  Aunty  Rem,  that  if 
the  Lord  hasn't  time  to  make  you  curly 
you  can't  do  it  yourself.  Probably 
Sadie's  hair  is  a  weeny  bit  curly  any- 
how." 

After  all  these  sober  days  Aunt 
Remson  sighed  with  relief  one  after- 
noon when  she  heard  Rosa's  little 
gurgle  of  laughter  and  watched  her 
race  excitedly  into  the  house  with  the 
others.  The  absurd  cause  of  the 
children's  glee  brought  tears  of  mirth 
to  her  eyes. 

"The  bottle  man  is  coming!"  shrieked 
Billy.  "Us  four  is  going  to  get  mil- 
leryuns  of  bottles  for  him  !" 

"Two  cents  for  big  ones  this  year  !" 
cried  Rosa,  with  shining  eyes.  "I  know 
where  there's  a  whole  raft  of  'em  !" 

"'Nd  a  cent  for  mejum  sizes  '" 
panted  Elsa. 

"Teenys  a  cent  'nd  two  for  a  cent, 
mamma  !"  Eloise  screamed. 

Whence  came  the  mysterious  rumor 
no  one  seemed  to  know,  but  the  entire 
neighborhood  engaged  busily  in  the 
absorbing  pursuit.  The  Remson 
children  ransacked  the  attic,  the 
medicine  chest,  the  pantry  shelves, 
and  even  the  stable.  They  pleaded 
with  Jake,  the  stable  boy,  to  put  his 
liniments  and  oils  into  tin  cans;  they 
prowled  behind  the  garden  fence,  they 
tramped  miles  to  rumored  dumpheaps. 
For  two  exciting  days  the  hunt  raged 
and  then,  perforce,  for  lack  of  game, 
the  hunters  gave  up  the  chase. 


Coming  back  the  last  afternoon  from 
a  hunt  that  had  yielded  only  two  small 
"painkillers"  and  a  cracked  fruit  jar, 
Billy  and  Rosa  added  and  counted  as 
they  trudged  along  a  cross-lots  path. 
"Gee  whosh  !"  said  Billy,  stopping 
abruptly.    "I  know  a  bully  place  !" 
"Where  ?"  demanded  Rosa. 
"Mis'  Thomp- 
son's house." 

Rosa  snorted 
her  disgust. 
"  C  o  u  1  d"n '  t  "'g  o 
there,"  she  ob- 
jected. "Aunty 
wouldn't  let  us. 
She'd  be  awful 
'shamed  if  any- 
body saw  us." 

"Women  make 
me  tired,"  grunt- 
ed Billy,  "all 
knocking  her  all 
the  time.  Promise 
not  to  squeal  ? 
Honest  ?  Well, 
I've  been  there  !" 
He  gloated  over 
Rosa's  horror  and 
went  on,  boast- 
fully: "Yep;, 
twice.  She  called 
me  in  to  fix  her 
birdhouse  up  on 
her  stoop,  •  and 
then  she  let  me 
hear  her  funny- 
graft,  and  she  let 
me  run  it  myself, 
too;  gee,  I  think 
it's  a  peacherino. 
I  don't  see  why 
ma's  so  down  on 
funnygrafts.": 

"Oh,"  gasped 
Rosa,  in  dismay. 
"You  mustn't 
ever  go  there 
again,  Billy;  no- 
body goes  to  her 
house." 

"I  do,"  assert- 
ed Billy,  inde- 
pendently, "and 
I  say  she's  all 
right.  F"olks  are 
jus'  jealous  of 
her.  Gee,  hain't 
her  hair  grand  !" 
"Yes,"  agreed 
Rosa,  soberly. 

"She's  got  aw- 
ful swell  clothes, 
too,"  Billy  went 
on.       "I     should 

think   folks  would  like  her  'stead    of 
being  so  down  on  her." 

"But  Mrs.   Rensselaer    Brown    says 

she's  simply  im[X)ss'ble,"   insisted  his 

cousin,  "and  nobody  does  know  her." 

"Hold   this  basket,"  ordered   Billy, 

with  masculine  decision.     "I'm  going 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

to  sneak  around  and  ask.     I'll  bet  we 
get  a  slew." 

Rosa  waited,  timorously.  Mis' 
Thompson,  it  appeared,  was  not  at 
home,  but  her  maid  good-humoredly 
collected  a  great  many  bottles,  at  least 
fifteen  cents'  worth  they  reckoned  as 
they    trotted    home    with    the    heavy 


AUNT  RKMSOS  PUT  THE  LOCKET  GKNTLV  r^ 
SWEKTUU.VRr, 


r  )  ROsVs  IHN1) 

'  Mil!  SAID 


basket.  Thoy  found  the  twins  busily 
scrubbing  in  the  kitchen.  It  was  Meg's 
afternoon  out  and  Eloise  had  been 
seized  with  a  brilliant  notion.  The 
bottle  man  nfight  pay  more  for  clean 
bottles  !  Billy  and  Rosa  joyously 
agreed  it  was  a  splendid  idea.    And  as 


17 

they  smeared  themselves  with  soap 
they  squabbled  happily  over  what 
should  be  the  division  of  profits  and 
speculated  gleefully  over  ;he  probable 
envy  of  their  less  energetic  neighbors, 
"ble  Miss  Johnson's  rheumatism 
comes  in  grand  bottles,"  chuckled  Elsa, 
as  she  tried  a  nutmeg  grater  on  a  re- 
fractory label. 

"Currycomb 
couldn't  get  that 
otT,"  Billy  grunt- 
ed,   throwing 
down     the     can- 
opener  in  disgust. 
'Gee,     girls     al- 
ways    want     to 
wash  things.    I'll 
bet  he  won't  pay 
a  cent  more.    I'm 
not  going  to  wash. 
Jake  said  I  could 
go   to   the  black- 
smith's with  him. 
Mind    you  don't 
touch  mine  while 
I'm    gone."     But 
late  in  tlie  after- 
noon    when     he 
counted    up    his 
bottles     he    was 
certain  that   one 
was    gone.       He 
wasn't  exactly 
sure,    but    he 
thought     it    was 
a  very  large  two- 
rent  one,  and  he 
\ehemently     ac- 
cused   the    twins 
of  having  smash- 
ed it.    After  their 
mother  had  quell- 
ed the  inevitable 
strife  she  sighed 
a  little. 

"Children  are 
such  savages," 
she  said  to  Meg 
as  she  helped  the 
irate  maid  clear 
the  disordered 
kitchen.  "Seems 
to  me  they  wran- 
gle constantly." 

"Miss  Rosa 
doesn't,"  drawled 
Meg.  "Slie's  still 
as  a  lamb  'nd  she 
helped  wash  oop 
a  bit,  too." 

"She's  a    dear 

little   soul,"  said 

Mrs.    Remson. 

"But  then,"  she 

added    in    luunorous   defense    of    her 

own,  "just  before   father  comes  she's 

good  as  she  can  be  !" 

For  it  was  only  two  days  more  ! 
And  then  he  would  come  !  Rosa  asked 
shyly  for  light-blue  hair  ribbons  in- 
stead of  the  customary  dark  ones. 


18 

"And  I  want  my  birthday  dollar," 
she  said.  "I  guess  I  won't  wait  till 
Christmas  to  spend  it." 

Aunt  Remson  patted  her  cheek  as  she 
gave  her  the  money.  "Is  father  going 
to  have  a  present,  too,  this  time  ?"  she 
laughed. 

Rosa  nodded,  her  eyes  shining.  "A 
lovely  one  !"  she  sighed,  "a  lovely  one 
that's  a  surprise.  You  couldn't  guess 
it  at  all  !" 

Her  happy  anticipation  made  Mrs. 
Remson  sigh.  She  seemed  filled  with 
delight,  quivering  with  joy.  Her 
cheeks  flushed  softly,  her  eyes  shone. 
The  chubby  prettiness  of  the  twins 
seemed  ordinary  enough  beside  the 
tremulous  happiness  that  made  the 
plain  little  face  lovely.  Mr.  Stephen- 
son would  arrive  on  a  seven  o'clock 
train.  That  meant  late  supper  and 
naps  for  the  girls.  For  dear  Aunt 
Remson,  who  couldn't  keep  secrets 
at  all,  hinted  broadly  that  Uncle 
Frederick  was  planning  an  evening 
treat. 

Climbing  the  stairs  for  the  nap, 
Rosa  looked  down  at  her  aunt  in  the 
hall  and  kissed  her  hand  prettily.  She 
shut  the  door  of  her  room  softly, 
locked  it,  and  danced  gleefully  to  the 
mirror. 

"Rosa  Fredericka  !  Rosa  Fred- 
ericka  !"  she  whispered,  "you're  going 
to  be  jus'  lovely  !  Perfectly  lovely  !" 
Aunt  Remson  tapped  softly  at  her 
door  at  six  o'clock.  "Wake  up,  lazy 
bird  !"  she  cried. 

A  muffled  sound  reached  her.  "Rosa, 
open  the  door  for  me.  I  want  to  help 
you  dress — here  are  the  new  hair 
ribbons." 

"I — I  can't  open  the  door,"  faltered 
Rosa. 

"Can't  open  it  !  What  did  you  lock 
it  for  ?  Don't  you  know  that  lock 
sticks  ?  I'll  shake  and  you  lift  up. 
That  will  do  it." 

"I  don't  want  to,"  Rosa  said,  in  a 
very  small  voice.  "Please  don't  ask — 
me — I  can't." 

Mrs.  Remson  stood  still  and  thought. 
"Rosie,  dear,"  she  said,  softly,  "it's 

almost  time  for  father.    Aren't " 

"I  know,"  said  Rosa,  brokenly. 
"Don't  tell  me — don't  tell  me  !" 

"Do  you  want  to  stay  here  until  he 
comes  ?"  asked  the  perplexed  woman. 
"I  guess  I  do,"  faltered  Rosa,  and  as 
she  heard  her  aunt's  retreating  steps 
she  pressed  her  face  against  the  door 
and  sobbed.  Aunt  Remson  went  back 
swiftly. 

"Rosa,"  said  she,  shaking  the  door 
sharply,  "what  is  the  matter  ?  Are 
you  ill  ?" 

"No'm,  I — I" — a  white  envelope 
was  pushed  under  the  door — "I  can't 
see  my  father — I — you  give  him  this 
letter." 

Mr.    Stephenson    and    his    surprise 
arrived   at  the  same  time.     A   great 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

touring  car  stopped  in  front  of  the 
house,  a  long-coated  figure  leaped  out 
and  caught  at  the  twins  and  Billy. 
Rosa  stared  through  her  peep-hole 
in  the  blind. 

^  "Where's  my  daughter  ?"  cried  the 
beloved  voice.  "Who's  hidden  my 
daughter  ?  She  what  ?"  he  demanded 
— "a  letter  ?  Goodness,  how  formal  !" 
He  read  the  letter  standing  on  the 
step  below  the  window.  "Heavens, 
Jane  !"  he  caught  his  sister's  face  in  his 
hands,  "what's  all  this  about  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered, 
kissing  him,  with  a  smile  of  relief. 
"I  thought  it  must  be  serious.  The 
poor  child  seemed  to  feel  bad  over  it." 
He  tucked  the  letter  into  her  hands. 
"The  blue  room?"  he  asked,  and  was 
off  before  she  nodded.  Then  Mrs. 
Remson  read  the  letter. 

He  had  bounded  up  the  stairs  and 
was  standing  at  her  door. 
"Daughter  !"  he  said,  softly. 
"Father,  dear  !"  cried  Rosa,  "please, 
please  go  away  till  it  is  dark  !" 

"It's  nearly  dark  now.  Hurry  out  ! 
They're  all  waiting  !  We're  all  going 
down  the  river  for  a  ride  and  dinner  !" 
The  door  did  not  open. 

"Daughter,"    his    voice    was    stem 

now,  "I  want  you  to  come  out  directly." 

"I   can't — I   can't,"   insisted    Rosa, 

stubbornly.      "You   mustn't   ask   me, 

for  I  can't." 

"If  it's  the  nun  business,"  he  said, 
brusquely,  "you  can  tell  me  that 
to-morrow  Come,  open  the  door  !" 
"I  won't  !"  she  sobbed. 
The  quick  temper  he  thought  he 
had  lost  in  his  years  of  suffering  flared 
out.  The  door  gave  way  with  a  crash 
that  sent  her  flying  wildly  to  the 
farthest  corner.  She  was  weak  with 
fright  when  she  heard  him  stumbling 
over  her  little  stool  in  the  darkness. 
He  fumbled  for  the  light,  caught  at  the 
swinging  bulb  and  snapped  it  on 
sharpl}'. 

Her  slender  form  looked  almost 
ludicrously  small,  shrinking  back 
against  the  darkly  polished  door  of  the 
wardrobe.  Her  dress  was  disordered, 
her  head  swathed  ridiculously  in  a 
fringed  bath-towel,  and  her  eyes, 
swollen  with  weeping,  blinked.  She 
shielded  them  from  the  light  with  a 
quick  lift  of  her  crooked  elbow.  Some- 
how the  movement  irritated  him. 

"Good  Lord  !  I'm  not  going  to  beat 
you,"  he  burst  out,  angrily.  "Come 
here  to  me  !" 

She  did  not  move.  "Come  here  !" 
he  repeated. 

"Go  away  !"  she  begged,  piteously. 
"Please  go  away  1" 

The  abject  terror  in  her  voice  gave 
him  a  curious  thrill  of  sympathetic 
fright.  "What's  the  matter  ?"  he 
asked,  more  gently. 

"I  can't  tell,"  she  nmrmured.  "You 
— you — you  mustn't  ask  me." 


He  stood  still  a  moment,  completely 
bewildered 

"If  I  were  you,"  he  said,  awkwardly, 
as  though  he  were  wheedling  an  hys- 
terical woman,  "I'd  wash  my  face  and 
take  off  that  silly  towel  and  put  on  a 
pretty  frock.  They're  waiting,  you 
know." 

"I  can't  I"  she  moaned. 
"What    utter   nonsense  '"    he    said, 
sharply,  stepping  toward  her,   "what 
foolish — "    In  front  of  the  little  dress- 
ing-table he  stopped  abruptly. 

The  locket  was  there  It  was  prop- 
ped open  on  top  of  a  pile  of  school- 
books,  and  the  curl,  which  had  been 
imprisoned  for  so  many  years,  lay 
loose  beside  it.  He  was  silent  so  long, 
standing  with  his  back  to  her,  that  she 
hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"Rosalie,"  he  murmured,  "Rosalie — " 
The  room  was  quite  still;  Rosalie's 
daughter  was  forgotten.  He  drew  a 
long  breath  and  reached  for  the  locket. 
It  was  then  that  he  saw  for  the  first 
time  the  tall  bottle  with  the  gaudy 
label  that  stood  beside  the  books.  He 
picked  it  up,  curiously,  and  began 
reading  the  delusive  words  that  his 
daughter  had  read  the  fateful  day  she 
scrubbed  Mrs.  Thompson's  empty 
bottle:  "Warranted  to  produce  a  rich, 
glossy,  natural  golden  shade  defying 
detection.  Unusually  lasting  'n  results, 
exceptionally  easy  to  apply  !" 

He  strode  across  the  room  and 
jerked  the  towel  from  her  head.  Matt- 
ed and  dampened,  one  side  oddly 
splotched  with  brown  and  the  other 
bleached  a  vivid  yellow,  the  'ittle  head 
bent  low  under  his  startled  gaze.  She 
flung  herself  at  his  feet  in  the  agony  of 
her  humiliation. 

"Don't — don't  look  at  it,"  she  cried. 
"It — it  said  beautiful  golden,  but  it 
told  an  awful  lie — that  bottle !  I 
truly  didn't  mean  to  be  bad — I  just 
wanted  to  make  it  nice  so's  you'd  love 
me.  But  if  I'm  a  nun  it  won't  matter. 
Their  hair  don't  show  at  all.  Please 
let  me  be  a  nun  and  don't — don't 
scold  me  !  Anyway  not  to-night, 
because  to-night  I  thought  you'd  be 
calling  me  Goldilocks  !" 

In  the  long  moment  that  he  stared 
down  at  the  ridiculous  little  figure,  a 
sharp  consciousness  of  his  years  of 
selfish  devotion  to  the  dead  and  his 
grudging  love  for  the  living  swept  over 
him.  He  turned  down  the  merciless 
light  and  in  the  darkness  bent  over  his 
little  girl. 

"Daughter,  dear !"  he  murmured, 
pityingly,  as  he  caught  her  in  his  arms 
and  kissed  the  stained  tresses. 
"Daughter,  dear  !" 

The  long-ago  endearment  faltered 
on  his  lips,  the  memory  of  it  was  cruelly 
poignant,  but  his  broken  whispers 
Eounded  in  her  ears  like  heavenly  music. 
"Goldilocks  1"  he  sighed.  "My  dear 
little  Goldilocks  !" 


Concerning  Greta  Greer 

Part  III. 

IN  WHICH  THERE  IS  A  CONFESSION  AND  AN  AWAKENING.  AND  WHERE 
DR.  DARE  FINDS  HIMSELF  THE  RECIPIENT  OF  CONFI- 
DENCES FROM  TWO  DISTRESSED  WOMEN 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"Won't  you  walk  on  the  deck  with 
me,  Miss  Greer  ?" 

Dare  leaned  a  little  over  the  back 
of  her  chair  at  dinner  the  same  night 
and  tried  not  to  be  too  eager. 

The  captain  spoke. 

"I  was  just  saying  that  a  breath  of  fresh  air  would  be 
the  best  thing  in  the  world  to  deal  with  that  hot-house  look 
of  Miss  Greer's.  It  is  beautiful,  of  course,  and  all  of  the 
women  en\'y  her,  but  to  a  hardy,  weather-beaten  seaman 
like  myself — well,  it  savors  of  the  unearthly;  I  fear 
some  day  to  look  up  and  find 
her  floating  away  on  a  green 
cloud." 

The  girl  rose,  smiling  slightly. 

"I  had  no  idea  men  were 
such  minute  observers,"  she 
said.  "Thank  you,  Dr.  Dare, 
I  should  like  a  turn." 

The  doctor  did  not  see  the 
long  expressive  look,  which,  in 
passing,  she  gave  the  captain. 
He  answered  her  with  a  mute 
appeal  to  which  she  silently 
responded  by  a  slight  inclina- 
tion of  her  head.  Captain 
Mylcs  looked  wistfully  after 
the  disappearing  figures. 

Although  the  storm  was  over 
the  decks  were  very  wet,  and 
it  was  quite  cold  in  unsheltered 
places. 

Dr.  Dare  spoke  of  it.     "Let 
us   sit   here,"    he  suggested,   as    they 
passed    two    chairs.     "It    is    not    so 
chilly  and  we   may  be  able  to  get  a 
good  view  of  the  comet." 

"The  comet  ?"  echoed  his  com- 
panion. "Why,  you  can't  see  the 
comet  any  more.  The  last  view  I  had 
of  it  was  two  years  ago,  and  through 
a  gla.ss,  at  that." 

Dare  pretended  to  look  puzzled. 

"I  don't  understand,"  he  said.  "I 
thought  old  Halley  promised  us  a 
sight  of  it  every  seventy-five  years." 

"Well  ?" 

"Surely  it  has  been  seventy-five 
years  since  I  last  saw  you."  He  did 
not  smile. 

Gretii  Greer  laughed  outright.  It 
was  a  delicious  throaty  sound  and 
thrilled  the  man. 

"Compliments  as  neatly  wrapped  as 
that  are  rare,"  she  said,  still  laughing. 
"I  confess  that  you  took  me  greatly 
by  surprise  and  I  have  no  frantically 
clever  answer  ready." 


By  Madge  Macbeth 

Illustrated  by  Elisabeth  Telling 


SYNOPSIS. — Dr.  Dare,  specialist  in  insanity  and  crime  cases, 
has  shipped  as  surgeon  on  a  transatlantic  liner,  and  meets 
Greta  Greer,  a  tall,  reserved  girl  invariably  gowned  in  green. 
She  is  strangely  moved  on  learning  his  chosen  profession,  and  he 
becomes  aware  that  she  has  some  mystery  weighing  on  her  mind. 

The  second  day  out  he  learns  that  there  has  been  a  daring 
robbery  of  emeralds  at  Montreal,  by  some  woman,  and  that 
they  will  be  searched  on  arriving  in  England.  Mrs.  Threckmeyer, 
a  cheerfully  ungrammatical  matron.  Miss  Kelly,  a  little  school- 
teacher, who  gives  the  impression  of  looking  particularly  well 
before  she  leaps,  and  Billy  Cunningham,  a  former  classmate  of 
Dare's,  and  now  a  detective,  discuss  the  case  excitedly.  Dare 
feels  instinctively  that  Cunningham,  at  least,  has  his  eye  on 
Miss  Greer,  and  determines  to  protect  her  if  need  should  arise. 
Suddenly  Mrs.  Threckmeyer  sends  for  Dr.  Dare  and  Cunning- 
ham, and  confides  that  she  has  just  discovered  Mrs.  Beaufort's 
jewels  hidden  in  her  hand-bag,  along  with  a  note  from  her  niece, 
Jean,  saying  that  she  has  broken  out  in  a  new  place,  and  wonders 
if  her  aunt  will  ever  forgive  her.  Since  she  used  to  be  a  victim  of 
kleptomania,  Mrs.  Threckmeyer  is  sure  she  has  stolen  the 
Beaufort  jewels  and  in  a  fit  of  remorse,  put  them  in  her  aunt's 
bag.  Billy  Cunningham  receives  the  news  with  delight,  crying 
"Heaven  bless  dear  little  Jean.  Believe  me,  it's  awful  to_be  in 
love  !"  and  rushes  off  to  th    Marconi-man. 


"It  is  a  bore  to  be  frantically  clever 
with  some  people,"  returned  Dare. 
"We  hoard  our  epigrams  as  a  rule  for 
people  with  whom  we  can't  be  wholly 
natural  or  'at  home.'  Seriously, 
though,  I  would  like  to  say  that  I  have 
missed  you,  whom  I  dare  think  of  as  a 
kindred  spirit." 

She  changed  color  slightly,  and 
traced    the   designs  on  her  gown. 

"I  have  found  the  time  irksome 
since  we  sailed,  too— er — I  have  not 
been  very  well." 

"Oh,  I'm  sorry."  Dare's  voice  was 
sincerely  sympathetic.  "I  have  several 
remedies  for  mai  de  mer  and  between 
them  all,  the  patient  usually  gets 
something  efficacious." 

The  girl  ojjened  her  lips  to  speak, 
thought  agjiin  and  remained  silent 
then  as  her  companion  turned  to  her, 
she  said,  "Thank  you  I" 

They  remained  together  a  long  time, 
not  always  talking,  but  wholly  enter- 
tained and  satisfied  with  silences. 


Dare  did  not  try  to  project  himself 
into  her  thoughts  at  all,  he  allowed 
himself  to  drift — bending  his  mental 
energies  solely  upon  the  channels  of 
thought  she  suggested.  Although 
many  times  throughout  the  evening 
she  seemed  wistful,  femininely  weak  and  yielding,  the 
doctor  found  no  trace  of  the  tragedy  he  had  associated 
so  indissolubly  from  her.  She  seemed  quite  normal  and 
entirely  charming.  Consequently,  he  was  somewhat 
unprepared,  when  after  a  long  silence  she  leaned  toward 
him  and  said: 

"Dr.  Dare,  I  want  to  ask 
you  about  something  vitally 
important  to  me,  I  suppose  I 
want  to  'consult'  you.  Your 
sympathies  are  always  with 
those  of  us  who  are  too  weak 
to  resist  temptation,  aren't 
they  ?" 

Ellis  Dare  bowed  mutely. 
The  old  suspicion  returned 
more  vividly  than  ever,  the 
normal  woman  had  vanished 
leaving  in  her  stead  an  ab- 
normal creature  staggering 
under  tragedy.  He  looked 
from  the  tightly  clasped 
hands  to  the  drawn  lips,  and 
then  into  pulsing,  heavy-lidded 
eyes  and  could  find  no  words 
to  answer. 

"I  am  one  of  those  unfortu- 
nates," {he  girl  went  on, 
"Oh,  do  you  think  you  can  help  me  ?" 
"I  can't  tell.  Miss  Greer.  I  can't 
tell  you  that  I  can  but  I  am  going  to 
say  with  deep  earnestness  that  there  is 
nothing  I  will  not  do;  there  is  no  path 
too  difficult  for  me  to  try.  Will  you 
tell  me  about  it  ?" 

"I  shan't  go  far  back,  to-night," 
Greta  Greer  began,  "I  haven't  the 
courage.  I  will  only  say  that  I  left 
Mrs.  Beaufort's  suddenly,  within  an 
hour  after  getting  a  cable  calling  me  to 
London  for  an  urgent  purpose— and — " 
"Wait  just  a  moment  !"  Dare  leaned 
forward,  tensely,  and  looked  keenly 
into  the  girl's  eyes.  "Was  that  before 
or  after  Mrs.  Beaufort  sustained  her 
grave  loss  ?" 

"What  loss  ?"  The  question  was 
spoken  in  a  strained  whisper. 

"Don't  you  know  that  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  we  sailed,  Mrs.  Beaufort  had 
almost  every  piece  of  jewelry  stolen 
from  the  safe  in  her  country  home,  and 
that  practiailly  every  detective  in  the 

i» 


20 

country  is  working  on  the  case  ?" 
A  sharp  pang  stabbed  Dare  as  he 
watched  the  look  of  horror  and  suffer- 
ing which  the  girl  could  not  control. 
She  seemed  lo  pass  with  torturing 
swiftness  through  staggering  surprise, 
sympathetic  grief,  then  unalterable 
horror.  Twice  she  tried  to  speak, 
could  not  find  her  breath,  and  choked. 
Finally,  just  as  Dare,  unable  to  bear 
the  sight  of  her  tragic  eyes  longer,  was 
iihout  to  continue  with  the  story,  she 
le;  ned  toward  him  and  moaned: 

"God  pity  me,  Dr.  Dare  !  I  suppose 
every  one  will  have  to  know,  now,  for 
it  was  my  doing." 

He  caught  her  to  him — she  had 
fainted. 

CHAPTER  VHI. 

There  was  no  sleep  for  Dare  that 
night;  he  alternately  paced  the  deck 
and  his  small  stateroom  in  frenzied 
uncertainty.  Reviewing  the  whole 
situation  as  well  as  he  could  follow  it, 
he  found  himself  no  nearer  its  solution 
than  on  the  first  night  out  at  sea. 
Greta  Greer  had  been  the  guest  of 
Mrs.  Beaufort,  had  left  suddenly, 
mysteriously,  just  about  the  hour  of 
the  robbery.  She  refused  to  allow 
the  stewardess  to  enter  the  room  and 
to  Dare's  trained  eye  she  carried  about 
■with  her  the  burden  of  a  great  sorrow. 
Added  to  the  impression  he  had,  were 
her  words — "It  was  my  doing  !"  She 
plainly  acknowledged  her  guilt — or  at 
least  her  complicity  in  the  crime.  At 
the  same  time,  it  was  obvious  that  she 
had  known  absolutely  nothing  of  the 
robbery  until  he  had  told  her — her 
part  had  been  played  unconsciously, 
without  a  realization  of  its  meaning. 

Perhaps  it  was  a  case  of  hypnotism 
—  mental  suggestion  or  the  like;  she 
may  have  remembered  allowing  an 
experiment,  but  nothing  more.  An 
unscrupulous  person  could  easily  have 
possessed  himself  of  the  jewels  in  such 
a  manner.  But  in  such  an  event, 
while  Mrs.  Beaufort's  loss  would  be  as 
great,  there  would  be  no  stigma  at- 
tached to  her  guest— nothing  to  ac- 
count for  her  horror  when  she  heard 
•of  the  robbery.  Possibly  she  had  been 
duped  by  a  trusted  servant  or  one  of 
the  other  guests,  in  which  case  it 
might  be  unpleasant  and  difficult  for 
her  to  make  an  accusation  and  prove 
it.  These  and  many  other  loop  holes 
he  made  for  her  but  they  did  not  seem 
to  fit  the  occasion.  He  could  not 
force  himself  to  a  decision  one  way  or 
the  other — she  might  be  guilty  or  she 
might  not.  Not  merely  because  of  his 
sympathy  for  criminals,  his  heart 
went  out  to  her,  lonely, reserved, tragic; 
but  he  found  himself  more  wholly 
anxious  to  accept  her  first  and  help 
her  afterward.  He  did  not  shrink 
frcm  her  even  while  holding  to  the 
ithought  that  she  might  be  guilty. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

He  had  carried  her  to  her  stateroom 
with  Captain  Myles'  assistance.  He 
had  gone  through  the  necessary  steps 
toward  bringing  her  to.  consciousness 
while  the  other  man  had  stood  silently 
by.  He  had  taken  but  a  fleeting  glance 
about  her  room,  which  now  that  he 
thought  of  it  seemed  crowded  with 
trophies  such  as  one  expects  to  find  in  a 
curio  shop — -portions  of  armour,  lances, 
garlands  made  of  gold  leaf,  and  many 
other  pieces  which  Dare  had  just  time 
to  notice.  Mingled  with  some  subtle 
perfume  was  an  odor  which  puzzled 
the  doctor  and  just  at  the  moment 
distracted  him. 

The  girl  returned  to  consciousness 
slowly  and  partly  opened  her  eyes. 
Dare's  pulses  leapt,  the  room  swam, 
impulsive  words  of  love  throbbed  for 
utterance.  He  bent  forward,  forget- 
ting the  captain's  presence. 

"Will  you  leave  me  now  ?"  whispered 
Greta  Greer,  "I  shall  want  you — you 
both — later.    I  must  think." 

That  was  all  which  passed  between 
them,  for  as  by  common  consent,  the 
men  had  separated  outside  her  door 
with  the  briefest  "Good  night,"  and 
with  the  air  that  nothing  unusual  had 
come  under  their  notice. 

And  wfthin  the  stateroom  this  other 
woman  was  trying  to  frame  words 
with  which  to  lay  bare  her  soul   .      .    . 

Then  he  argued  from  another  stand- 
point— Mrs.  Threckmeyer  held  a  con- 
fession from  her  niece,  also  an  inmate 
of  the  Beaufort  house,  and  an  acknowl- 
edged kleptomaniac.  She  even  had 
some  of  the  stolen  jewels  ! 

It  was  hardly  possible  that  Mrs. 
Threckmeyer  herself  was  a  party  to 
the  crime,  in  fact  Dare  did  not  share  her 
belief  that  the  niece  was  guiUy,  in 
spite  of  her  note. 

As  to  her  having  the  jewels,  once 
more  he  thought  of  Greta  Greer  as  the 
subject  of  some  one's  will,  and  he 
longed  to  murder  this  unknown Svengali 
who  had  possibly  ordered  her  to  carry 
the  chamois  bag  to  Mrs.  Threck- 
meyer's  stateroom  !  If  she  had  not 
the  strength  to  resist  these  commands, 
he  had,  and  he  would  use  it  provided 
she  would  allow  him.  His  head 
burned  and  his  lips  grew  dry  as  he 
sat  on  the  edge  of  his  berth  thinking. 
Again  the  subtle  pervading  odor  oc- 
curred to  him  and  he  lifted  his  hand 
to  his  nostrili^.  Yes,  it  was  there  and 
it  also  clung  to  his  shoulder  where 
her  head  had  lain. 

He  looked  at  his  watch,  and  found 
that  it  was  two  o'clock.  Evidently  the 
girl  had  not  made  up  her  mind  as  to 
what  she  wished  to  say,  and  wouldn't 
send  for  him  that  night. 

Perhaps  the  captain  had  not  gone  to 
sleep.  He  would  see.  Certainly  he 
knew  something  of  Greta  Greer. 

The  sky  had  cleared,  and  there  was 
a  wonderful  August  moon  low  in  the 


heavens.  The  sea  was  calm,  reflecting 
the  ship's  lights  in  long  wavering  lines; 
a  deep  silence  reigned  as  Dare  walked 
softly  forward. 

He  knocked  once  and  entered. 

The  captain  sat  in  a  leather  chair, 
his  head  thrown  back,  his  eyes  wide 
open,  staring  at  the  ceiling.  But  for 
the  grip  he  had  upon  the  arms  of  his 
chair,  one  might  have  supposed  him 
quietly  resting  and  dreaming  of  peace- 
ful days.  He  did  not  move  when  Dare 
entered  the  room  nor  did  he  speak. 

"You  expected  me  ?"  asked  the 
doctor,  stepping  close  and  looking 
down  at  him. 

"Rather,"  answered  the  other 
slowly.     "Will  you  sit  down  ?" 

The  veins  on  the  back  of  his  hands 
seemed  to  beat,  and  his  knuckles  were 
drawn  and  white. 

Dare  seated  himself  in  a  chair 
opposite  the  captain  and  refused  a 
cigar.  He  was  neither  an  inveterate 
nor  a  nervous  smoker. 

"She  told  you  to-night  ?"  asked 
Myles,  at  last,  evidently  considering 
further  particularization  unnecessary. 

"Yes,  she  told  me  something — " 

"And  are  you  going  to  help  her  ?" 

"That  is  what  I  came  to  talk  about." 

The  captain  rose  suddenly  from  his 
chair  and  put  his  hands  upon  Dare's 
shoulders.    They  gripped  him  hard. 

"You  don't  hesitate  ?"  he  cried 
passionately.  "You  have  not  come 
here  to  discuss  her  like  the  ordinary 
patient  or  the  one  to  whom  you  give  a 
hundredth  part  of  your  attention  ? 
You  surely  have  not  come  to  catechize 
me.  Dare — " 

Ellis  interrupted.  He  too,  was 
excited  but  spoke  with  a  forced  calm. 

"I  merely  want  to  know  a  way  to 
help  her,   Myles — that's  all." 

"Find  a  way,  man,  ji/K^  a  way  !  With 
your  knowledge  and  the  opportunities 
you  have,  there's  nothing  you  could 
not  do.  Take  her  somewhere  and  make 
a  new  woman  of  her,  help  her  to  forget 
the  past — the  years  of  burning  hell 
she  has  lived  through,  teach  her  the 
power  of  her  own  will  !  She  won't 
resist,  she  will  do  her  best  to  respond 
to  you — I  know  she  will  !  At  least 
make  the  experiment,  Dare.  If  you 
fail,  it  can't  hurt  you,  and  if  you  suc- 
ceed— " 

"Wait  a  moment  !" 

Dare  rose  too,  and  shook  oflf  the 
hands  which  held  him.  He  had  been 
thinking  rapidly  and  now  became 
convinced  that  Greta  Greer  was  the 
victim  of  suggestion,  under  which 
influence  she  committed  various 
crimes.  He  had  intended  to  ask  many 
questions  of  the  captain  but  hastily 
reconsidered  this,  and  decided  to  get 
all  facts  from  the  girl  herself.  This 
other  revelation  however,  made  by 
a  man  under  high  pressure  of  excite- 
ment,   demanded   different   treatment 


(-ANADA  MONTHLY 


21 


GRETA  GREEK  LAY  BACK. 

and  the  doctor  took  what  he  con- 
sidered the  only  honorable  course. 
Until  the  present  moment  he  had  not 
understood  the  full  extent  of  the 
captain's  interest  in  Greta  Greer,  he 
had  not  realized  that  Myles,  too, 
loved  her. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  he  repeated.    "I 
think  it  only  fair  to  tell  you  some  of  the 
facts  which   you   may   not  know,   as 
long  as  you   seem   to  be  more   than 
casually   interested.     To   begin   with, 
I  do  not  know  the  full  extent  of — of — 
cr  -the  disease,  and  can  promise  noth- 
ing until    I   know  that.     But  in  any 
event    the    helping    of    a    fx>rson    so 
afflicted  would  mean  this:  daily,  almost 
hourly  intercourse,  the  closest  intimacy, 
ilic  making  of  oneself  necessary  and 
indispen.sabic    to    the    patient    as    a 
counter-irritant    to    the    other,     you 
understand;  the  surest  and  best  way 
in  the  present  instance  to  effect  a  cure 
would    be    to    interest    her  in  me,  to 
trade    upon    that     something    in    our 
personalities      which      would       prove 
stronger  than  the   — er — disease.    Do 
you  understand  ?      And,"  he  went  on 


EVERY  TRACE  OF  COLOR  EBDING  FROM  HER  PALE  FACE,  AND  DR, 
CAREFULLY.      WHAT  SECRET  Dill  THIS  STR.\.NGE  W04LA.N  HOLD? 

tensely,  "I  will  say  that  I  am  ready  and 
willing  to  do  this,  to  take  her  away 
from  the  beaten  track,  to  bury  myself 
for  years  if  need  be,  and  balk 'at  no 
sacrifice  however  great,  because— I 
already  love  her." 

The  men  stood  face  to  face  looking 
straight  into  each  other's  eyes.  There 
was  a  long,  dramatic  pause,  then  the 
two  clasped  hands  tightly,  and  stood 
so  a  moment. 

The  door  was  tlirown  open,  sudden- 
ly- 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  mtruder, 

"I  rapped,  sir — twice,  to  tell  you  that 
there's  a  passenger  overboard." 

Kor  a  paralyzing  moment  the  two 
men  stared  at  each  other,  the  same 
thought  uppermost  in  their  minds. 
Then  the  captain  broke  through  the 
open  doorway  with  a  cry. 

Dare  remained  motionless — he  felt 
the  throb  of  the  ship  as  her  engines 
ceased,  he  was  conscious  that  the  cold 
air  blew  strongly  on  the  back  of  his 
neck,  and  that  he  was  chilled.  A 
heavy  odor  seemed  to  enmesh  him,  and 
he  again  put  his  hand  to  his  face.  Then, 


DARE  TOOK  HER  PL'LSE 


turning,  he  walked  slowly  out  on  deck, 
and  aft,  where  a  small  crowd  of 
officials  and  passengers  had  gathered. 
He  dreaded  to  look  into  the  satiny 
water,  fearing  lest  he  should  see  the 
green  of  a  velvet  gown  blend  with  its 
deeper  tint;  he  tried  to  blot  out  the 
image  of  the  girl  who  so  possessed  his 
thoughts,  but  the  picture  of  her  rose 
before  him;  her  white  face  framcci  with 
blue  black  hair,  showing  death-like  in 
the  cold  gleam  of  the  moon— he 
dreaded  to  look  and  yet  he  could  not 
stand  back  while  the  crowd  of  curious 
strangers  hung  dispassionately  over 
the  rail.  For  an  irresolute  moment  he 
stood  alone,  suffering  the  tortures  of 
hell,  then  walkeil  boldly  to  the  side 
and  looked  down. 

The  moon  reflected  its  face  in  the 
rolling  swells,  one  moment  a  perfect 
circle  and  the  next  a  trailing  oblong 
streak,  the  ship's  lights  glowed  zig-zag 
upon  the  water  and  Dare  fancied  he 
heard  a  hiss  as  one  of  the  passengers — 
Judson  of  course,— threw  aw.n-  .1  half 
finished  cigarette. 

Continued  on  pace  73. 


As  a  Man  Soweth 

WHAT  THE  AGRICULTURAL  SCHOOLS  OF  ALBERTA  ARE  TEACHING.    "THESE 
SCHOOLS,''  SAY  THE  FARMERS.  "ARE  WHAT  WE  WANT  FOR  OUR  SONS." 

By  Norman  S.  Rankin 


THE  Hired  Boy  had 
slept    in.      For    the 
first  time  since  his 
employment  he  hac 
come  down  from  the  little 
loft  over  the  barn, 
which   served   him 
for     a     bedroom, 
fifteen    minutes 
late.     It  was  pre- 
cisely    a     quarter 
past  five. 

"Son,"  said  the 
Old  Farmer  who 
had  been  impa- 
tiently waiting  him 
below.  "Son,  yew 
kin  git — git,  lock, 
stock  an'  barril — 
■out  yew  go — take 
yer  bag  an'  bag- 
gage an'  move 
along  right  smart. 
I  doan'  want  yer 
Vound  here  no- 
how." 

"D'ye  mean  it^ — 
D'ye  mean  it  sure  ? 
D'ye  want  me  to 
git,  as  ye  say?" and 
the  boy  peered 
nervously  into  the  hard  old  man's  face,  shivering  in  the 
raw  morning  air. 

"I  alius  means  what  I  sez,'  growled  the  Old  Farmer 
viciously,  "an'  I  repeats  it.  Git,  an'  be  quick  about  it," 
and  he  pointed  with  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  towards 
the  farm  gate. 

"All  right,"  assented  the  lad  sorrowfully,  "I'll  git  out, 
I'll  git  out,  but  I  tell  ye,  I  don't  understan' — I  don't  see 
■why." 

"Seewhy;don't  understand,"  spluttered  the  old  man, 
^'Why,  shucks  alive,  boy,  what  better  reason  cud  ye  have 
than  that  ye  slep'  in.    Didn't  ye,  I  asks,  didn't  ye  sleep  in  ?" 

"Yep,"  responded  the  lad  slowly,  "I  slep'  in,  I  sure 
did,  but  it  is  the  first  time,  an'  (pleadingly)  ain't  I  tried  to 
please  ye  ?  Ain't  I  worked  hard  to  follow  your  orders  ? 
Ain't  I  been  willin'  to  do  'most  anythin'  ?" 

"Maybe  ye  has,  an'  then  again,  maybe  ye  hasn't,", 
grudged  the  Old  Farmer,"  but  it  don't  make  no  difference, 
nohow;  I  tells  ye  Son,  the  farmer's  boy  has  got  to  be 
eddicated,  an'  I  ain't  got  no  use  for  a  young  feller  what 
sleeps  in  all  forenoon." 

Educate  the  farmer's  boy.  Yes,  the  old  man  was 
right;  the  hired  man  and  the  hired  boy  have  got  to  be 
educated.  That's  the  kind  of  education  the  farmer's  boy 
used  to  get.  But  it's  not  the  kind  of  education  he's  get- 
ting now,  at  least  in  the  Province  of  Alberta. 

To  learn  because  he  really  wants  to  learn,  and  not  be- 

32 


Illustrated  from  Photographs 


THE  FARMERS    GIRLS  STUDY  DOMESTIC  SCIENCE.  THE  HEALTH  AND  NUTRITIVE 
VALUES  OF  FOODS,  HOW  TO  CATER  INTELLIGENTLY  FOR  A 
FAMILY,  AND  HOW  TO  SERVE  CORRECTLY 


cause  his  parents  or 
guardians  send  him 
to  school ;  to  study 
because  in  doing  so 
he  realizes  he  is 
going  to  be  better 
fitted  for  life  on 
the  farm;  to  apply 
himself  because 
there  is  pure  joy 
in  so  doing,  these 
are  some  of  the 
incentives  which 
will  induce  any 
normal  boy  to 
study ;  and  they 
are  the  right  and 
proper  motives  to 
a  practical  educa- 
tion.  These  are 
1  he  motives  behind 
the  new  system  of 
agricultural  educa- 
1  ion  established 
last  fall  in  the  Pro- 
\ince  of  Alberta, 
and  that  it  is  prov- 
ing successful  be- 
yond even  the 
fondest  expecta- 
tions of  the  Gov- 
ernment   itself,    is 

clearly  demonstrated  by  an  overflow  attendance  at  each  of 

the  three  schools  already  in  operation. 

Here's  what  one  Old  Farmer,  writing  to  the  Principal 

of  the  Government  Agricultural  School  at  Olds,  thinks: — 

Hastings  Coule,  January  the  14th,  1914. 
Mr.  VV.  J.  Elliott,  Olds,  Alberta. 

Sir: — Received  yours  of  January  7th.  Seeing  in  your  letter  that 
the  school  course  is  too  far  advanced  for  this  year,  I  will  not  send  my 
son  now,  but  in  the  fall.  I  was  really  astonished  when  I  saw  David 
Salon's  blacksmith  work.  I  am  a  mill  man  from  Ontario.  I  think 
this  is  the  best  school  a  government  ever  established.  You  >vill  find 
out  that  some  of  the  farmers'  sons  will  make  the  best  of  mechanics. 
This  school  is  really  what  the  farmers  want  for  their  sons. 
Yours  truly, 

(Signed)  H.  L.  KROETSCH. 

On  three  of  the  six  provincial  demonstration  farms 
established  last  year,  agricultural  schools — not  colleges — 
have  been  erected  and  opened  at  Vermillion,  Olds  and 
Claresholm.  They  have  as  principals,  practical  exper- 
ienced farmers,  who  have  as  assistants,  equally  practical 
specialists  in  all  lines  of  agricultural  education,  live  stock, 
poultry,  carpentry',  farm  machinery,  dairying,  crop  selec- 
tion, soil  chemistry,  in  fact,  everything  that  will  give  the 
boy  such  knowledge  and  practice  that  will  enable  him  to 
make  the  business  of  farming  a  pleasanter  and  more 
profitable  occupation.  Every  progressive  country  in  the 
world  now  recognizes  the  necessity  of  giving  its  boys  and 
girls  the  best  possible  educationcil  advantages  as  prepara- 


tion    for  whatever  life  they  may  ele  ct 
to  follow,  and  here  is  education  along 
attractive  and  practical  lines. 

By  locating  these  schools  on  the 
Government  Demonstration  farms, 
practical  demonstration  of  subjects 
discussed  daily  in  class  are  available, 
and  at  all  times  the  assistance  of  the 
farm  superintendents  are  available. 
In  addition  some  twenty  acres  on  each 
farm  are  set  aside  as  experimental 
plots,  which  are  under  the  cultivation 
and  care  of  the  students. 

Could  the  hired  man  or  boy  of 
earlier  days  take  up  the  farmer's 
carpentry  tools  and  turn  out  a  much 
needed  wagon  box  in  workmanlike 
manner  ?  Could  he  ceil  the  inside  of 
the  new  home  ?  Bend  a  whiffle-tree  ? 
Put  together  storm  window  frames  ? 
Construct  a  wheel  barrow  ?  Replace 
a  front  door  ?  A  fence  ?  A  gate,  or 
the  hundred  and  one  other  repair  jobs 
that  are  required  in  the  operation  of  a 
farm  ? 

You  know,  and  I  know,  that  he 
couldn't. 

Could  the  hired  man  of  earlier  days 
kindle  the  smithy's  forge  and  properly 
sharpen  a  plow-lay  ?  Manufacture 
a  chain  ?  Bend  up  a  hook  ?  A  clevis? 
A  clip  ?  A  whiffle-tree  end  ?  A  wagon- 
box  iron  ?  Weld  a  connection  ?  Care  for 
the  horses'  feet,  and  shoe  them,  and 
other  frequently  occurring  repair  jobs 
that  are  part  and  parcel  of  farm  life  ? 

You  and  I  know  he  couldn't. 

Could  the  hired  man  tell  what  ails 
your  thorough-bred  bull  or  dairy  herd, 
or  champion  stallion  when  it  falls 
sick,  or  prescribe  treatment  to  restore 
it  to  health  and  productivity  ?  Or 
judge  your  cattle  and  horses  for 
soundness  and  quality  ? 

Of  course  he  couldn't. 

Could  your  hired  man  tell  you  why 
your  small  gasoline  engine  won't  work, 
or  your  steam  tractor  refuses  to  move  ? 
Could  he  take  either  apart  and  set  it  up 
again  ?  Could  he  explain  cither's  con- 
struction and  use  ? 

(Undoubtedly,   he  couldn't. 

<"()uld  your  newly  hired  boy  discuss 
with  you  intelligently  the  strong  and 
weak  points  of  your  new  binder  or 
seeder  or  harrow  ?  Could  he  explain 
wind  and  water  power  ? 

You  wouldn't  expect  him  to. 

Could  he  tell  you  how  to  irrigate 
your  land  properly  ?  The  plant's 
relation  tf)  and  how  it  is  influenced  by 
sf>il,  fertilizers,  air,  moisture,  heat  antl 
light  ?  The  properties  of  your  par- 
ticular kind  of  soil  ?  The  classification 
anfl  method  of  improvement  of  farm 
crops,  individual  crops  as  applied  to 
nature,  culture,  storing,  uses  and 
history  ? 

No,  the  hired  man  or  the  farm  lx)y 
of  earlier  days,  and  present  days  also, 
couldn't  do  any  of  these  things.  They 
weren't  expected  of  him;  they  weren't 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

even  attributes  of  the  farmer  himself, 
in  many  cases.  The  hired  man  and 
the  farmer's  boy  were  machines  or 
laborers,  doing  what  they  were  told 
and  when  they  were  told.  That  was 
then;  not  now. 

Now,  at  the  end  of  his  first  year's 
course  at  one  of  these  agricultural 
schools,  the  average  farmer's  boy  will 
know  a  good  deal  about  the  practical 
manner  of  doing  all  these  things,  and 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  second  year, 
will  be  fully  qualified.  That  is  an 
education  worth  looking  for,  worth 
having,  and  one  that  will  metamor- 
phose the  life  of  the  boy  on  the  farm 
from  monotony  and  drudgery  to  variety 
and  interest. 

And  don't  let  us  forget  the  farmer's 
daughter;  the  present  sweetheart  and 
future  wife  of  the  farmer's  boy.  She 
has  her  little  niche  also  in  these  new 
schools.  She  studies  household  science, 
cooking  and  sewing,  laundrying,  dress- 
making, home  nursing,  sanitation, 
gardening  and  English,  with  practical 
work  in  dairy  and  with  poultry,  in 
fact  practical  education  on  those  sub- 
jects with  which  a  young  woman  as  a 
home-maker  should  be  familiar.  And 
she  does  it,  singing. 

The  writer  spent  a  couple  of  days 
at  Olds  studying  the  school  methods 
and  the  scholars.  Both  were  a  revela- 
tion, for  in  other  ways  also,  the 
farmer's  l^oy  and  the  farmer's  girl  were 
being  morally  and  physically  trained. 
Boarding  in  the  homes  of  the  town's 
people  as  they  do,  an  honor  code  is  in 


23 

Mrs.  Smith  on  Main  Street,  and  your 
board  will  cost  you  S5.50  a  week. 
Each  evening  except  Saturday  and 
Sunday  and  such  days  as  shall  be 
publicly  declared  holidays,  you  are 
expected  to  be  in  your  room  studying 
from  seven  o'clock  on  through  the 
evening.  You  will  not  smoke,  nor 
chew,  nor  drink  spirituous  liquors  nor 
go  inside  a  saloon  or  bar  while  here, 
and  in  other  minor  details,  you  will 
conform  to  the  rules  and  regulations 
of  the  school.  Do  you  promise  ?  Well, 
sign   here." 

This  honor  code,  so  far,  has  worked 
well;  two,  I  think  have  fallen  from 
grace  and  been  packed  away  to  their 
destinations,  and  when  you  consider 
that  many  of  them  are  young  men  and 
young  women,  and  not  mere  children, 
this  is  but  all  the  more  laudatory. 
Thirty-nine  girls  and  sixty-one  young 
men  attend  the  Olds  School,  and  if  I 
were  a  boy  again,  no  !  even  if  I  were 
independent  now  and  could  go  and 
do  what  I  wished,  I  would  pack  up 
my  things  and  move  to  Olds  to-morrow 
and  enroll  for  the  season's  course. 

This  system  of  education  (and  it  is 
proposed  to  extend  it  and  to  conduct 
many  similar  schools  in  other  parts  of 
the  province)  will  make  of  the  future 
Alberta  farmer  the  most  efficient  and 
enthusiastic  tiller  of  the  soil  on  the 
continent,  who  will  intelligently 
operate  his  farm  with  modern  machin- 
ery in  an  effective  manner,  and  have 
his  home  presided  over  by  a  trained 
and    practical    wife,    who    if    occasion 


A  CLASS  UI'   1'AK.VlbK  SUYb  SIUUVl.NU  SOU.  UI1U11:>1KY  IN    IIIU  LAUUUAIOKY 


practical    force    between    school    and 
scholar. 

"You  come  to  this  school  to  learn, 
I  take  it,"  says  the  principal  to  a  new 
scholar  upon  presentation,  "and  I 
want  your  assurance  that  this  is  so. 
Wc  have  no  time  for  play  except  in 
play  hours,     ^■(l!l  lodge  with 


ari.ses,  can  take  the  reins  of   manage- 
ment into  her  own  cajiable  hands. 

The  hired  man  of  earlier  days,  the 
machine,  the  laborer,  will  soon  be  a 
thing  of  the  past,  and  in  the  future,  the 
farm  owner,  when  in  a  quandary,  can 
turn  to  his  modern  hired  boy  for 
information  and  advice. 


Introducing  Louis 

GOOD  INDIAN,  GUIDE.  PHILOSOPHER 
AND  FRIEND  TO  US  ALL 


CELIA  DEAR— The  carrier 
brought  your  letter  early  this 
morning,  but  I  never  got  it 
read  until  we  camped  at  noon. 
Not  that  I  wasn't  glad  to  hear  from 
}ou,  but  right  then  came  Louis'  call, 
and  I  had  to  fly.  You  see  it  is  our  very 
first  Moose  Hunt,  and  besides,  Louis 
is  a  man  you  rarely  keep  waiting. 
When  he  poises,  paddle  in  hand,  in 
that  cockle-shell  canoe  of  his,  and 
sends  his  shrill:  "AV  aboard  !"  you  get 
the  notion  that  the  slender  devilish 
craft  (for  devilish  it  is  in  any  hands 
but  his)  is  alive,  and  that  he  is  holding 
it  still  by  standing  on  its  heart.  You 
drop  everything  and  run  at  that  "Al' 
aboard  !" 

Custom  never  stales  the  variety  of 
thrills  you  experience  as  you  clamber 
in.  You  are  absurdly  glad  that  he 
does  not  remove  his  foot  and  let  her 
come  to  life  until  you  are  in  your  own 
particular  seat.  Then,  he  steps  back, 
and  on  the  instant  she  noses  toward 
the  rapids,  rocking  like  a  drunken 
thing.  You  give  a  little  scream,  but 
Louis  only  laughs  and  dips  his  paddle 
into  the  foamy  water.  Then  comes  the 
long  silent  sweep  which  only  the  half 
breed  can  give,  and  you  know  what  is 
meant  by  poetry  of  motion.  For  the 
first  hour,  at  least,  you  are  rid  of  your 
body,  of  your  heavy  old  head,  your 
legs,  your  feet  with  the  blistered  heels; 
you're  a  great  grey  gull  all  grace  and 
beauty,  a  lump  of  content  in  the  spot 
where  your  heart  used  to  be,  and 
you're  flying,  flying,  flying  through 
grey  mist  shot  with  rainbow  lights,  and 
you're  a  whole  lot  nearer  heaven  than 
any  human  creature  has  a  right  to  be — 
on  account  of  having  to  come  down 
again. 

This  morning  I  am  still  flying  when 
Joan  of  Arc  and  her  brother,  who  as 
usual  are  as  close  to  me  as  they  can 
get,  begin  a  quarrel  which  threatens 
to  end  in  a  fight.  I  take  a  last  dizzy 
whirl  and  get  back  my  head,  my  body, 
my  blistered  heels,  my  whole  prosaic 
person. 

"Stop  that  wrangle,  children,"  I  say 
sharply,  and  Louis  laughs.  I  believe 
he  knows  I've  been  up  in  the  air  with 
the  other  wild  birds. 

I  suppose  you  being  strong  on  the 
conventions,  I  ought  to  introduce 
Louis  formally.  Don't  go  picturing 
him  seme  handsome  young  adventurer. 


,By  Jean  Blewett 

He  is  so  old  his  face  is  a  net-work  of 
wrinkles,  and  his  eyes  have  seen  so 
much  they  droop  at  the  corners  with 
tiredness.  He  has  eye-brows  like  two 
snow  covered  brush  heaps;  one  long 
straggling  lock  of  hair  down  his  fore- 
head, a  nose  that  crooks  sideways 
when  he  laughs  or  gets  mad  (he  does 
both  quite  often)  and  the  most  inter- 
esting personality  to  be  found  between 
Athabaska  and  Dunvegan,  that  oldest 
of  posts  on  the  Peace  River.  No 
young  man  could  possibly  be  so  wise 


LIFE  IS  SIMPLE  TO  THESE  CHILDREN'  OF 
THE  WILDERNESS 


and  yet  so  companionable,  so  worldly 
and  yet  so  childlike. 

Peter  asked  him  his  age  one  day  and 
got  little  satisfaction,  but  a  good  story. 
"How  ol',  eh  ?  I  dunno.  Life  an'  me 
we  jog  togedder  mos'  too  long  keep  de 
count.  Eet  ees  lak  ol'  Corieux  back 
on  de  Saskatchewan  say  w'en  de 
mount'  police  catch  heem  and  de  wife 


fighting  and  mak' de  trial.  'How  many 
year  you  two  been  marry  ?'  ask  de 
police,  'I  dunno',  say  Cordieux  wit'  de 
bitter  look  you  see  som'  tarn'  w'en  you 
come  across  fox  dat's  los'  hees  tail  in  a 
trap,  an'  knows  he  ain't  sly  as  de  res' 
ob  hees  breed,  else  he  wouldn't  got  in 
no  trap,  'but  by  de  way  I  feel,  jus'  now, 
it's  hell  ob  a  long  tarn  b'gosh.'  " 

No,  you  needn't  feel  shocked,  my 
dear.  ■  If  you  could  hear  Louis  tell  that 
story  the  while  his  thin  lips,  blue  eyes, 
the  hundred  and  one  wrinkles,  make 
merry  together,  and  the  crooked  nose 
turns  away  to  enjoy  its  fun  all  by  itself, 
you  wouldn't  do  a  thing  but  laugh. 

"He  is  wan  beeg  fool  dat  Cordieux," 
he  goes  on,  bringing  his  nose  back  to  a 
proper  angle,  "he  mak'  troub'  for 
heemself  al'  right  in  de  start,  yes. 
How  he  do  dat  ?  Well,  I  tell  you. 
Eet  is  w'en  dey  tak'  de  trail  on  w'at 
you  call  de  honey-moon.  We  go  by 
pony  to  Moose  Portage,  he  tell  her; 
not  so,  we  go  by  de  boat  to  Swan 
Reever,  she  say.  Right  dere  he  should 
geeve  de  loving  cuff  on  de  ear  and  mak' 
de  break  for  Portage.  But  he  is  yo'ng 
an'  sof  in  hees  heart — and  head,"  here 
the  top  of  his  nose  twinkles  round  to- 
his  cheek  again.  "An'  he  mak'  de 
fool  ob  heemself  wit,'  'Al'right,  m'dear 
you  ees  de  boss.'  " 

It  was  the  little  teacher  from  the 
mission  who  spoke  up  with,  "The 
proper  thing  for  a  man  to  do  is  to  let 
the  bride  choose  the  wedding  trip, 
Louis  !" 

"De  proper  t'ing  for  man  to  do  is 
start  out  de  way  he  intends  keep  on, 
eh  ?  'You  de  boss,  m'dear,'  he  tell 
her,  to  mak'  de  show  off  at  de  start, 
and  she's  boun'  hees  words  come  true 
eef  eet  tak'  a  leg,  b'gosh  !  Mebbe 
ev'ry  man's  beeg  fool  wance  in  hees 
life.    I  t'ink,  yes." 

"On  his  honeymoon,  you  mean  ?" 
queries    the    teacher. 

"No,"  with  a  gleam  from  the  pale, 
blue  eyes,  "a  leetle  w'ile  before  dat,  jus 
about  de  tarn'  he  begin  mak'  de  eye 
at  her,  an'  put  hees  brains  in  hees  heel 
so  dat  he  dance  de  better.  Me,  I  lak 
my  own  way,  but  I  hab  wife,  an'  oV 
troub'  he  chase  married  man.  Me," 
with  a  whimsical  shrug,  "I  tak'  to- 
de  wilderness.  De  bigger  de  hiding 
place  de  harder  for  troub'  to  fin'  you 
out.     Dat  is  true." 

Continued  on  page  59. 


HE  ¥OMAN  OF  IT 

^  Q^an  jTdair 

C/Tuthor  of  "THE  APOSTACY  OF  JULIAN  FULKE."  "JOAN."  Qtc. 

Illustratad  ^hy 
KathcririG  Southzoick 


SYNOPSIS. 

This  novel  of  English  society  opens  with  a  prologue  showing  Robert  Sinclair  as  a  boy  in  Rome.  He  angers  his  father,  a  cashiered  captain,  by 
wanting  to  become  a  singer,  and  is  brutally  beaten.  Mother  and  son  leave  Rome  that  night,  the  boy  regretting  only  his  parting  with  his  playmate, 
Denzil  Merton. 

The  scene  changes  to  London.  Lord  Merton  is  giving  a  box  party  at  the  opera  for  the  family  of  a  Canadian  railway  man,  with  whose  daughter, 
Valerie  Monro,  he  is  deeply  in  love.  When  the  new  tenor  who  is  to  make  his  premier  in  the  role  of  the  Knight  Lohengrin  comes  on,  Merton  recog- 
nizes him  as  his  txjyhood  friend,  Robert  Sinclair.  Valerie  is  strangely  impressed  by  the  tenor  but  chides  herself  for  being  as  silly  about  him  as 
the  other  women  of  the  party.  Merton  tells  her  he  k  going  to  call  on  Sinclair  the  next  day,  which  he  does,  and  finds  Sinclair  eager  to  renew  their 
boyish  acquaintance.  Merton  tells  him  that  Valerie  wants  to  meet  him,  but  he  laughs  and  intimates  the  Lohengrin's  armour  nas  dazzled  her  a 
little.  Merton  disclaims  this,  saying,  "She  is  not  like  that,"  and  when  Mrs.  Monro  sends  the  singer  a  card  for  her  next  ball,  Merton  persuades 
him  to  accept.  Valerie  perversely  snubs  him.  Later  in  the  evening  a  lighted  candle  falls  on  her,  and  Sinclair  puts  out  the  fire,  burning  his  hands. 
Valerie  attempts  to  thank  him,  and  ends  by  a  gust  of  hysterical  tears  which  washes  away  the  coldness  between  them.-  They  start  afresh  on  their 
acquaintanceship,  and  she  invites  Sinclair  to  come  and  see  them.  However,  their  next  meeting  is  at  the  Duchess  of  Northshire's  musicale, 
where  Sinclair  is  a  lion.  She  promises  him  three  dances  at  Lady  Merton's  ball.  Feeling  intuitively  that  Merton  will  ask  her  to  marry  him, 
she  tells  herself,  "To-night  I  will  be  happy.  After  that,  the  deluge  !"  She  coquettes  with  Sinclair,  and  provokes  him  until  at  last  he  takes  her 
in  his  arms,  and  admits  that  he  loves  her.  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away,  saying,  "There  is  Denzil,  my  friend — and  yours."  She 
tells  him,  "He  will  ask  me  to  marry  him,  to-night.  What  shall  I  say  to  him  ?"  Sinclair  grips  her  by  the  shoulder  and  says  fiercely:  "You  aren't 
going  to  marry  him  !  Do  you  hear  me  ?"  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away.  He  will  not  take  Denzil's  beloved  away  from  him,  and  he 
tells  Valerie  he  loves  her  too  much  to  marry  her,  that  he  would  not  make  her  happy,  that  he  loves  his  work  more  than  any  woman.  Valerie 
cannot  understand  this  altogether,  but  he  forces  her  to  accept  the  fact  that  he  will  not  marry  her;  and  later  in  the  evening  she  accepts  Denzil. 
When  Sinclair  reaches  home,  his  father  is  asleep  in  his  rooms,  having  come  to  beg  for  money  on  the  strength  of  the  fact  that  he  is  the  next  heir 
to  the  baronetcy  of  Abbott's  Wood,  and  Sir  Fulke  Sinclair  is  a  very  old  and  feeble  man.  His  son  settles  two  hundred  pounds  a  year  on  him,  and 
tells  him  that  it  is  only  on  condition  that  the  captain  never  show  his  face  near  his  son  again,  never  write  to  him  or  communicate  with  him.  The 
elder  Sinclair  consents,  borrows  all  the  gold  the  son  has  in  his  pockets  at  the  moment,  and  goes  off  with  a  pitiful  attempt  at  jauntiness,  leaving  the 
young  man  alone.     Valerie,  as  Denzil's  fiancee,  goes  with  the  Mertons  to  Barranmuir,  for  the  shooting. 


CHAPTER  X. 

It  was  early  October,  the  day  fitie, 
but  grey.  Valerie  was  sitting  alone 
on  tlie  wind-swept  terrace  of  Barran- 
muir, her  chin  in  her  hand.  She  was 
looking  at  the  landscape  with  eyes  that 
took  in  every  detail  of  the  wide  ex- 
panse before  her,  bordered  on  the  one 
side  by  a  clump  of  dark  pines,  on  the 
other  by  Ijeeches  whose  leaves  shone 
as  pure  gold,  against  the  clear,  light, 
colorless  autumn  sky. 

The  girl  was  gazing  fixedly  as  if  she 
found  something  satisfying  in  the 
landscape,  as  if  the  rolling  moors  and 
the  blue  distances  of  the  hills,  the 
gold  of  the  leaves  and  the  sombreness 
of  the  pines  were,  one  and  all,  speak- 
ing to  her,  each  in  their  own  language. 

It  was  only  when  she  heard  the 
sound  of  the  motor  as  it  announced 
itself  to  have  passed  the  bend  where 
the  beeches  stood  and  aime  into  view 
of  the  house,  that  she  took  her  eyes 
from  the  distant  view.    She  was  a  little 


thinner  and  a  little  browner  than  she 
had  been  in  London,  and  she  looked 
older  too.  Something  of  the  irre- 
sponsibility of  youth  had  gone  out  of 
her  face  and  in  its  stead,  there  had 
come  a  gravity  that  had  never  been 
there  before.  She  was  all  the  more 
beautiful  for  it,  especially  when  her 
face  was  lit  up  by  one  of  her  queer, 
crooked    smiles. 

"So  he  has  come,"  .she  said  to  her- 
self. "That  clarion  of  the  horn  was 
characteristic  of  liim,  too — the  fairy 
prince."  But  she  did  not  move  from 
her  seat  on  the  terrace  and  if  anyone 
had  been  there  to  see,  they  would  have 
noticed  that  the  slim  hand  in  its  buck- 
skin glove  was  trembling.  She  fixed  her 
eyes  on  the  approaching  car,  which 
seemcrl  to  reach  its  destination  al- 
most more  quickly  tlian  cars  generally 
do.  For,  no  sooner  had  it  announced 
itself  to  her,  than  it  seemed  as  if  it  had 
arrived.  All  too  soon  for  her  self- 
command. 


The  groom  sprang  out  and  opened 
the  door.  Lord  Merton  had  been 
driving  and  his  guest  got  out  first. 
Valerie  could  see  the  briglit  gold  hair 
of  the  tall  figure  from  wliere  she  sat — ■ 
and  then  the  little  man  whom  she  was 
going  to  marry  sprang  out  and  she 
could  see  that  his  first  look  was  towards 
the  terrace  in  search  of  her. 

It  was  October  and  despite  his 
promise,  this  was  the  first  time  that 
Sinclair  had  come  to  Barranmuir. 
(^ne  pretext  after  another  was  put 
forward.  He  went  shooting  with  other 
people,  it  seemed,  he  was  not  to  sing 
until  the  latter  end  of  October  in 
Paris,  and  he  had  come  here  only  a 
couple  of  weeks  before  he  was  due 
there.  Lord  Merton  had  wasted  many 
letters  on  him,  but  he  never  seemed 
able  to  make  things  fit  in.  "Write  and 
tell  him  that  I  iiciieve  he  won't  come 
because  I  am  here.  That  ought  to 
fetch  him,"  Valerie  siiid  to  Denzil  one 
day.      He   laughed.      "Very  well,"   he 


3S 


26 

said  and  then  he  turned  to  her,  "Sweet- 
heart," he  said,"  do  you  know  that 
there  may  be  just  a  word  of  truth  in 
that  accusation  ?  Old  Bob  likes  to 
have  me  to  himself  and  I  daresay  he 
guesses  that  he  has  no  chance  against 
you." 

"Perhaps,"  she  said  negligently. 
"Anyhow,  give  my  message,  Denzil  !" 
It  may  have  been  the  message 
which  brought  him.  He  arranged  to 
come  soon  after.  Valerie  knew  that 
she  was  counting  the  days  and  after 
that  the  hours — she  knew  quite  well 
what  was  gnawing  at  her  heart.  She 
knew  that  she  wanted  to  see  him  once 
again,  to  make  sure  that  he  was  not 
taking  things  too  hard — and  yet  she 
knew  quite  well  that  it  would  take 
away  the  last  satisfaction  that  she 
felt,  if  he  did  not  take  things  hard  ! 

And  as  she  sat  on  the  terrace  and 
looked  down  on  him  her  heart  beat  so 
that  she  felt  almost  suffocated. 

Denzil  was  walking  beside  him,  his 
happy  little  face  irradiated  with  smiles. 
Denzil  looked  shorter,  more  insignifi- 
cant than  ever.  It  was  only  Sinclair 
who  had  the  power  of  making  Denzil 
look  so  insignificant.  Valerie  did  not 
mind  what  other  man  he  stood  near. 
And  then  both  young,  men  made 
their  way  towards  her  and  she  rose 
from  her  seat,  putting  one  gloved  hand 
on  the  balustrade  of  the  terrace  to 
steady  herself.  Denzil  came  first. 
"Here  she  is,"  he  said  joyously. 
"Valerie,  he  is  really  here  !  We  have 
achieved  it  at  length  !" 

"It  is  a  triumph,"  said  the  girl. 
She  thought  her  voice  must  sound 
strange  and  harsh — it  did  not  seem 
like  her  voice  at  all  as  she  heard  it, 
but  neither  Robert  nor  Denzil  seemed 
to  notice  any  difference  in  it.  The 
singer  held  out  his  hand  and  she  put 
hers  into  it. 

"We  thought  you  would  not  honor 
Barranmuir,"  she  said  lightly.  "Lady 
Merton  has  been  quite  angry  with  you 
and  you  know  you  are  ordinarily  a 
great  favorite  of  hers." 

"She  has  forgiven  me  ever  since  I 
was  a  little  boy,"  said  he.  "I  believe 
she  will  go  on  forgiving  me  still." 

"I  believe  so  too,"  said  Denzil, 
laughing,  and  then  he  slipped  his  arm 
into  Valerie's.  "Have  they  come  in 
from  the  moors  yet  ?"  he  asked.  "The 
magic  hour  of  tea  draws  near  and  the 
light  is  growing  bad." 

"No  one  has  come  in,"  said  Valerie 
— she  was  able  to  speak  more  naturally 
now — "but  it  will  be  pleasanter  if  we 
go  in.  Mr.  Sinclair  will  like  to  see  your 
mother." 

They  walked  along,  all  three  abreast, 
Valerie  between  the  two  men.  It  seemed 
to  the  girl  as  if  her  limbs  were  leaden 
and  yet  she  knew  that  she  liked  walking 
beside  Robert. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

She  looked  at  him  with  one  of  her 
sidelong  glances.  No,  he  did  not  look 
as  if  he  were  taking  things  too  hard — 
but  then  he  never  seemed  to  her  to 
show  any  feeling  at  all — she  had  not 
known  for  sure  even  that  he  had  loved 
her. 

Suddenly  Sinclair  stood  still.  "I 
like  this  view,  Denzil,"  he  said. 
"I  like  it  too,"  said  Merton. 
The  country  lay  before  them  with 
its  rolling  moors  and  its  far  horizons. 
He  glanced  suddenly  at  Valerie.  "You 
will  make  a  very  fair  chatelaine,"  he 
said  to  her  gravely.  Valerie  turned 
very  pale.  "We  have  as  beautiful 
views  as  this  in  Canada,"  she  said. 
She  had  read  Robert's  thoughts  aright. 
He  was  justifying  himself  once  more 
for  his  renunciation  of  her. 

"Here  comes  Dolly  Brent,"  said 
Denzil — he  had  very  good  sight. 

"Who  is  there  with  her  ?"  asked 
Valerie  almost  eagerly.  It  seemed  as 
if  she  was  glad  to  begin  another  subject 
of  conversation.  "I  believe  it  is 
Bertram,"  said  Denzil  with  a  half 
laugh.  "Then  she  has  not  pulled  it  off 
this  time." 

"I  suppose  not,"  said  Valerie,  smiling, 
and  then  she  turned  to  Sinclair,  "We 
aie  interested,  you  see,  in  watching  a 
love-affair." 

"Would  you  call  it  a  love  affair  ?" 
asked  Denzil. 

"No,  poor  child,"  said  Valerie. 
"Valerie  has  such  a  large  charity 
that  she  pities  even  those  damsels 
whose  one  object  in  life  is  to  achieve 
marriage  with  a  wealthy  man,"  said 
Denzil. 

"Of  course  I  am  sorry  for  them," 
said  Valerie  quietly.  "I  am  sorry 
particularly  for  Dolly — she  is  pretty 
and  well-bred  and  she  is  dreadfully 
poor." 

"And  her  father  is  a  pretty  average 
scoundrel,"  said  Denzil. 

"Poor  girl,"  said  Robert  with  feel- 
ing. 

But  they  did  not  wait  for  Dolly,  but 
made  their  way  into  the  house  where 
Lady  Merton  awaited  them  with  tea. 
Lady  Merton  was  one  of  those  little, 
brown-haired,  soft-eyed  women,  who 
seem  to  live  only  to  make  other  people 
comfortable.  She  was  very  much  in 
love  with  her  future  daughter-in-law. 
It  seemed  almost  as  if  she  could  never 
be  grateful  enough  to  her  for  making 
her  boy  so  happy. 

She  greeted    Robert   very   warmly. 
"I  have  missed  you  terribly,"  she  said. 
"You  see  those  two  are  so  taken  up 
with  each  other." 
"Naturally." 

She  looked  at  him  quite  gravely. 
"What's  wrong,  Bob  ?"  she  asked. 
"Have  you,  too,  fallen  in  love  ?" 

"There  is  nothing  wrong,"  he  said 
quickly,"  and  as  for  my  falling  in  love. 


I  did  that  some  time  ago,  that|is  noth- 
ing new."    He  laughed  as  he  spoke. 

"You  must  want  your  tea,"  said 
Lady  Merton,  reassured. 

"It  may  be  that."  He  did  not  speak 
ironically  but  with  an  effort.  Valerie 
went  across  the  hall  to  one  comer  of 
the  great  chimney  piece  and  held  out 
her  hands  to  the  blaze.  Denzil  followed 
her. 

"Your  hands  have  got  thin,  Valerie," 
he  said  with  sudden  alarm.  "See  how 
my  ring  slips  about  on  your  finger." 

She  held  out  one  hand  to  him.  "And 
yet  you  put  it  on  very  firmly,"  she 
said,  twisting  her  mouth  into  one  of 
her  crooked  smiles. 

"You  don't  feel  ill,  do  you  ?  Tell 
me  that  nothing  ails  you  !" 

"I  am  quite  well."  She  shivered  a 
little.    "I  want  sunshine,"  she  said. 

"Then  you  must  go  south  at  once  !" 

"And  I  want  the  sun  and  the  moon 
and  the  stars,"  she  said  laughing. 
"Get  them  for  me  at  once,  Denzil  I 
And  I  want  something  else  !  I  want 
every  one  to  have  what  he  or  she  most 
desires,  even  if  they  all  desire  the 
same  thing  1" 

"I  have  got  what  I  most  desire,"  he 
said  in  a  low  voice,  "even  although  I 
don't  deserve  it  !".  She  smiled  at 
him.  "Get  me  some  tea.  Dentil,  '  he 
said,  "and  the  nicest  tea-cak.L-  he  e 
are!    That  will  do  to  begin  witli." 

But  when  he  brought  them,  she 
just  broke  off  a  comer  of  one — the 
food  seemed  to  choke  her.  From  where 
she  sat,  she  could  ju.st  see  Robert's 
golden  head.  He  was  talking  quite 
easily  to  a  group  of  men  and  women. 
Dolly  Brent  was  sitting  opposite  to 
him — and  she  never  took  her  eyes  off 
him.  "Why  did  I  let  him  come  ? 
Why  ?"  said  Valerie  to  herself — "I 
can't  bear  it." 

Denzil  was  called  away  for  a  moment. 
Dolly  Brent  rose  and  came  across  the 
hall  to  her.  "Who  is  that,  Valerie  ?" 
she  asked. 

"That,"  said  Valerie  tr>'ing  to  speak 
naturally,"    is    Robert    Sinclair,    the 
tenor — and   it  is  not  good   for   little 
girls   o  look  at  him  too  much  !" 
"Why  not  ?"  said  the  girl. 

"He  is  considered  too  good-looking 
— by  most  mothers  !" 

"Too  good-looking!'!  said  Dolly. 
"I  think  he  is  wonderful  !" 

"Have  you  never  heard  him  sing  ? 
He  sings  at  Covent  Garden." 

"I  have  never  heard  him,"  said  the 
girl.  "I  suppose  the  prudence  of 
mothers  forbids  them  to  take  little 
girls  to  hear  him — how  comes  he 
here  ?" 

"He  is  an  old  friend  of  Lord  Merton's. 

They  were  boys  together  in   Rome!" 

"Will    you  introduce  me,  Valerie?" 

"Lady  Merton  must — I  consider 
him  too  dangerous." 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


27 


HdrairTop 


Nothing  touches  the  soap  but  your  face. 
You  hold  the  shaving  stick  by  the  metal 
holder,  which  allows  you  to  use  the  last  avail- 
able bit  of  soap  as  conveniently  as  the  first 


Stick 


The    Holder -Top   Stick  ifl   the 
last  word  in  convenience.     Add  to  this  the  absolute 

purity  of  the  soap  and  its 
creamy,  lasting,  abundant 
lather  and  you  have  a  shav- 
ing luxury  that  is  pretty  near 
perfection. 

THRKK  OTHER  FORMS  OF  THB  SAME 
GOOD  QUALITY :  , 

Williams'  Shaving  Stick  SlcKf.,f°Bo" 
Williams'  Shaving  Powder  JJlXfef  bo" 
W^illiams'  Shaving  Cream  (in  tubes) 

A  miniature  trial  packaf^e  of  any  one  of  these  four 
shaving  preparations  will  be  sent  postpaid  for  4c.  in 
stamps. 

THE  J.  B.  WILLIAMS    COMPANY 

Dept.  A,  Glastonbur-',  Conn. 

Cream 


Powder 


WILLIAMS' JERSEY  CREAM  SOAH 

and  our  extensive  line  of  Tollel  Soaps  have  the  same  softening,  creamy,  emollient  qualities  that  have  made 
Williams'  Shaving  Soaps  so  famous.     Ask  your  dealer  for  them. 


28 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


"But  with  a  man  like  that,"  began 
the  young  girl — she  did  not  finish 
the  sentence. 

Valerie  rose  from  her  seat  and  walked 
across  to  a  door  which  led  out  of 
the  hall.  It  was  the  door  of  Denzil's 
one  particular 
sanctum.  She 
knew  that  he 
would  follow  her 
quickly. 

Butfor  a  moment 
or  two,  she  thought 
she  would  be  alone. 
She  took  off  the 
hat  which  she  had 
not  yet  removed, 
and  sat  back  in  a 
low  chair,  looking 
into  the  fire.  The 
door  opened,  but 
she  did  not  look 
up- — she  knew  that 
it  must  be  Denzil. 
But  it  was  not. 

"Denzil  asked 
me  to  tell  you," 
said  a  grave  voice, 
"that  he  has  just 
been  called  away — 
some  one  from  the 
village  has  come 
for  him- — he  may 
be'away  an  hour 
or  more — but  I  was 
to  tell  you,  that  he 
could  not  do  with- 
out his  hour  before 
dinner." 

Valerie  made  no 
answer  at  all.  The 
room  was  quite 
<lark  —  except  for 
the  fire-light.  For 
a  long  time  nei-' 
ther  of  them  said 
a  word  and  then 
Robert  spoke. 
"You  are  making 
him  very  happy." 

"You  bade  me 
to." 

"I  know,  yet 
sometimes  I  have 
thought,  that  all 
this  must  be  a 
strain  on  you- — are 
you  well  ?  You 
look  thinner — "  as  he  looked  .u 

"Not  so  pretty?" 
she  asked  quickly. 

"No,"  he  said  simply,  "but  to  me, 
iar  more  beautiful.  You  look  older, 
too  !" 

"I  am  years  older,"  she  said  and 
then  she  turned  to  him.  "If  you  lived 
my  life,"  she  said  passionately,  "if  you 
put  a  curb  on  yourself  all  day  and  lay 
wide-awake  all  night  you  would  look 
older  too." 
l^  "You  can't  sleep?"  Ic  asked  her. 


"I  believe  that  !    You  look  sleepless." 
"And  you  ?"  she  said,"  I  need  not 

ask—" 

"No,"  he  said,  "you  need  not  ask — 

I  have  to  keep  myself  fit  you  know, 

because  of  my  voice  !" 


HER.  ilE  \\'Ai  kEMIXDLD  Ol^  L.U)Y  JAXE  GREV,  GROPING.  BEI.S-D-FOLDED  ,  FOR 
THE  BLOCK  ON  WHICH  SHE  WAS  TO  LAY  HER  LOVELY  HEAD 
.1 

"I  believe  you  care  for  your  voice, 
more  than  anything  !" 

"Why  not  ?  It  is  all  that  I  have  in 
the  world  !"  He  spoke  simply,  not 
complainingly.  He  did  not  attempt  to 
come  near  to  her,  but  stood  leaning 
against  the  high  mantel  and  looking 
down  at  her  as  she  sat  back  in  the  chair. 
There  was  something  in  his  attitude 
that    hurt    Valerie  horribly. 

"I  believe,"  she  said  speaking  very 


quickly,  "that  I  have  counted  the 
days,  the  hours  until  you  came 
here — and  you  now  are  here — " 

"I  should  not  have  come,"  he 
answered. 
"Why  not?  Lady  Merton  is  fond  of 
you  and  Denzil 
loves  you  and  if  I 
am  such  a  fool  as 
to  care,  what  does 
it  matter  to  any- 
one ?  Decidedly, 
you  were  quite 
right  to  have 
come  !" 

JHer  voice  was  so 
bitter  and  there 
was  something 
about  her,  that 
made  his  heart 
ache.  He  wanted 
to  take  her  into 
his  arms  and  to  kiss 
her  mouth  so  that 
itjShould  lose  those 
sad  curves  — he 
wanted  to  tell  her 
that  neither  dis- 
tance, nor  time, 
mattered  in  the 
least  to  him — that 
for  all  time,  she 
was  the  one 
woman  he  loved 
and  would  always 
love  !  But  it 
would  have  been 
as  useless  as  it 
would  have  been 
wrong,  seeing  that 
she  was  to  be  his 
friend's  wife. 

"I  have  to  go  to 
Paris  very  soon ,  "he 
said , "  I  have  an  en- 
gagement there." 

'  The  French 
women  are  very 
taking,"  she  said, 
almost  acidly. 

"They  are  very 
art-loving  !  You 
see,  Miss  Monro,  I 
happen  to  be  a 
singer. 

"I  know,"  she 
said,  "you  are  a 
singer  first." 

"No,"    he    said, 

"I  am  not  that." 

"What  are  you  first  of  all,  then  ?" 

she  asked — there  was  hope  in  her  voice. 

"I  hope  I  am  a  gentleman,"  he  said. 

"That  means  an  honorable  man." 

She  clasped  her  hands  together  and 
twisted  her  fingers  as  if  in  pain  and 
suddenly  the  ring  that  Denzil  had  told 
her  had  grown  too  large  for  her  fingers 
sprang  off  and  fell  at  Robert's  feet. 
He  looked  dovm  at  it.  The  firelight 
Co::lin'.ud  on  page  33. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


29 


Why  Man  of  To-day  is  Only 
50  Per  Cent.  Efficient 


If  one  were  to  form  an  opinion  from  the 
number  of  helpful,  inspiring  and  informing 
articles  one  sees  in  the  public  press  and  mag- 
azines, the  purpose  of  which  is  to  increase  our 
efficiency,  he  must  believe  that  the  entire 
Dominion  is  striving  for  such  an  end — 

And  this  is  so. 

The  Canadian  Man  because  the  race  is 
swifter  every  day:  competition  is  keener,  and 
the  stronger  the  man  the  greater  his  capacity 
to  win.  The  stronger  the  man  the  stronger 
his  will  and  brain,  and  the  greater  his  ability 
to  match  wits  and  win.  The  greater  his 
confidence  in  himself,  the  greater  the  confidence 
of  other  people  in  him;  the  keener  his  wit  and 
the  clearer  his  brain. 

The  Canadian  Woman  because  she  must  be 
competent  to  rear  and  manage  the  family  and 
home,  and  take  all  the  thought  and  responsi- 
bility from  the  shoulders  of  the  man,  whose 
present-day  business  burdens  are  all  that  he 
can  carry. 

Now  what  are  we  doing  to  secure  that  effi- 
ciency ?  Much  mentally,  some  of  us  much 
physically,  but  what  is  the  trouble  ? 

We  are  not  really  efficient  more  than  half 
the  time.  Half  the  time  blue  and  worried 
— all  the  time  nervous — some  of  the  time 
really  incapacitated  by  illness. 

There  is  a  reason  for  this — a  practical 
reason,  one  that  has  been  known  to  physi- 
cians for  quite  a  pCriod,  and  will  be  known 
to  the  entire  world  ere  long. 

That  reason  is  that  the  human  system  docs 
not,  and  will  not,  rid  itself  of  all  the  waste 
which  it  accumulates  under  our  present  mode 
of  living.  No  matter  how  regular  we  are, 
the  fcMxl  we  eat  and  the  sedentary  lives  we 
live  (even  though  we  do  get  some  exercise) 
make  it  impossible;  just  as  impossible  as  it 
is  for  the  grate  of  a  stove  to  rid  itself  of  clinkers. 

And  the  waste  does  to  us  exactly  what  the 
clinkers  do  to  the  stove;  make  the  fire  burn 
low  and  inefficiently  until  enough  clinkers 
have  accumulated  and  then  prevent  its  burn- 
ing at  all. 

It  has  been  our  habit,  after  this  waste  has 
reduced  our  efficiency  about  75  per  cent.,  to 
drug  ourselves;  or  after  we  have  become 
100  per  cent,  inefficient  through  illness,  to 
still  further  attempt  to  rid  ourselves  of  it  in 
the  same  way — by  drugging. 

If  a  clock  is  not  cleaned  once  in  a  while 
it  clogs  up  and  stops;  the  same  way  with  an 
engine  because  of  the  residue  which  it,  itself, 
accumulates.  To  clean  the  clock,  you  would 
not  put  acid  on  the  parts,  though  you  could 
probably  find  one  that  would  do  the  work,  nor 


By  Walter  Walgrove 

to  clean  the  engine  would  you  force  a  cleaner 
through  it  that  would  injure  its  parts;  yet 
that  is  the  process  you  employ  when  you  drug 
the  system  to  rid  it  of  waste: 

You  would  clean  your  clock  and  engine 
with  a  harmless  cleanser  that  Nature  has 
provided,  and  you  can  do  exactly  the  same  for 
yourself,  as  I  will  demonstrate  before  I  con- 
clude. 

The  reason  that  a  physician's  first  step  in 
illness  is  to  purge  the  system  is  that  no  medi- 
cine can  take  effect,  nor  can  the  system  work 
properly  while  the  colon  (large  intestine)  is 
clogged  up.  If  the  colon  were  not  clogged  up 
the  chances  are  10  to  1  that  you  would  not 
have  been  ill  at  all. 

It  may  take  some  time  for  the  clogging 
process  to  reach  the  stage  where  it  produces 
real  illness,  but,  no  matter  how  long  it  takes, 
while  it  is  going  on  the  functions  are  not  work- 
ing so  as  to  keep  us  up  to  "concert  pitch." 
Our  livers  are  sluggish,  we  are  dull  and  heavy 
— slight  or  severe  headaches  come  on — our 
sleep  does  not  rest  us — in  short  we  are  about 
50  per  cent,  efficient. 

And  if  this  condition  progresses  to  where 
real  illness  develops,  it  is  impossible  to  tell 
what  form  that  illness  will  take,  because — 

The  blood  is  constantly  circulating  through 
the  colon  and,  taking  up  by  absorption  the 
poisons  in  the  waste  which  it  contains,  it 
distributes  them  throughout  the  system  and 
weakens  it  so  that  we  are  subject  to  whatever 
disease  is  most  prevalent. 

The  nature  of  the  illness  depends  on  our 
own  little  weakness  and  what  we  are  least 
able  to  resist. 

These  facts  are  all  scientifically  correct 
in  every  particular,  and  it  has  often  sur- 
prised me  that  they  are  not  more  generally 
known  and  appreciated.  All  we  have  to  do 
is  to  consider  the  treatment  that  we  have 
received  in  illness  to  realize  fully  how  it 
developed  and  the  methods  used  to  remove  it. 

So  you  see  that  not  only  is  accumulated 
waste  directly  and  constantly  pulling  down 
our  efficiency  by  making  our  blood  poor  and 
our  intellect  dull — our  spirits  low  and  our 
ambitions  weak,  but  it  is  responsible  through 
its  weakening  and  infecting  processes  for  a 
list  of  illness  that  if  catalogued  here  would 
seem  almost  unbelievable. 

It  is  the  direct  and  immediate  cause  of 
that  very  expensive  and  dangerous  complaint 
— appendicitis. 

If  we  can  successfully  eliminate  the  waste 
all  our  functions  work  properly  and  in  accord 
— there  are  no  poisons  being  taken  up  by  the 
bloml,  so  it  is  pure  wid  imparls  strength  lo 

Please  mention  Canada  Monthly  when  writing  advertlMts 


every  part  of  the  body  instead  of  weaknes 
there  is  nothing  to  clog  up  the  system  and 
make  us  bilious,  dull  and  nervously  fearful. 

With  everything  working  in  perfect  accord 
and  without  obstruction,  our  brains  are  clear, 
our  entire  physical  being  is  competent  to 
respond  quickly  to  every  requirement,  and 
we  are  100  per  cent,  efficient. 

Now  this  waste  that  I  speak  of  cannot  be 
thoroughly  removed  by  drugs,  but  even  if  it 
could  the  effect  of  these  drugs  on  the  func- 
tions is  very  unnatural,  and  if  continued 
becomes  a  periodical  necessity. 

Note  the  opinions  on  drugging  of  two  most 
eminent  physicians: 

Prof.  Alonzo  Clark,  M.  D.,  of  the  Nev 
York  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons, 
says:  "All  of  our  curative  agents  are  poisons, 
and,  as  a  consequence,  every  dose  diminishes 
the  patient's  vitality." 

Prof.  Joesph  M.  Smith,  M.  D.,  of  the  same 
school  says:  "All  medicines  which  enter  the 
circulation  poison  the  blood  in  the  same 
manner  as  do  the  poisons  that  produce  dis- 
ease." 

Now,  the  internal  organism  can  be  kept 
as  sweet  and  pure  and  clean  as  the  external 
and  by  the  same  natural,  sane  method — 
bathing.  By  the  proper  system  warm  water 
can  be  introduced  so  that  the  colon  is  i>er- 
fectly  cleansed  and  kept  pure. 

There  is  no  violence  in  this  prncess — it 
seems  to  be  just  as  normal  and  natural  a» 
washing  one's  hands.  4 

Physicians  are  taking  it  up  more  widely 
and  generally  every  day,  and  it  seems  as 
though  everyone  should  be  informed  thor- 
oughly on  a  practice  which,  though  so  rational 
and  simple,  is  revolutionary  in  its  accomplish- 
ments. 

This  is  rather  a  delicate  subject  to  write 
of  exhaustively  in  the  public  press,  but  Chas. 
A.  Tyrrell,  M.D.,  has  prepared  an  interesting 
treatise  on  "The  What,  The  UTiy,  The  Way" 
of  the  Internal  Bath,  which  he  will  send 
without  cost  to  anyone  addressing  him  at 
Room  311,  280  College  Street,  Toronto,  and 
mentioning  that  they  have  read  this  article 
in  the  Canada  Monthly. 

Personally,  I  am  enthusiastic  on  Internal 
Bathing  because  I  have  seen  what  it  has 
done  in  illness  as  well  as  in  health,  and  I 
believe  that  every  person  who  wishes  to  keep 
in  as  near  a  perfect  condition  as  is  humanly 
possible  should  at  least  be  informed  on  this 
subject;  he  will  also  probably  learn  some- 
thing about  himself  which  he  has  never 
known  through  reading  the  little  book  to 
which  I  refer. 


30 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


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It  will  bring  back  your  boyhood  days  with  a  bump.  The  world  will 
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If  your  news  dealer  is  sold  out  send  direct  to 

Vanderhoof-Gunn   Co.,  Ltd.,  Publishers 

TORONTO         .        -        -         ONTARIO 


Linking  up  the  West 

BY  JOHN  McLELLAN 

ON  Tuesday  morning,  December 
3,  1887,  in  response  to  invita- 
tions extended  by  the  con- 
tracting firm  of  Upper  &  Willis, 
a  number  of  ladies  and  gentlemen 
gathered  at  the  station  grounds  of  St. 
Boniface,  Manitoba,  to  make  the  trip 
to  the  Roseau  River,  where  they  were 
to  witness  the  driving  of  the  last  spike 
in  the  line  of  rail  connecting  Winnipeg 
with  St.  Paul,  Minnesota.  A  special 
train  was  in  waiting,  and  at  a  few 
minutes  before  nine  o'clock  the  party 
boarded  the  cars  and  started  south. 

Among  the  Manitobans  in  the  com- 
pany were  Senator  Sutherland,  of  Kil- 
donan,  Consul  Taylor,  for  many  years 
the  popular  representative  of  the 
United  States  in  Manitoba,  Hon.  A.  G. 
B.  Bannatyne,  a  member  of  the  legis- 
lative council,  Capt.  Scott,  at  that 
time  holding  office  as  mayor  of  the 
city,  Alexander  Logan,  for  several 
years  mayor  of  Winnipeg,  W.  S.  AUo- 
way,  now  a  well-known  Winnipeg 
private  banker,  John  F.  Bain,  after- 
wards Mr.  Justice  Bain,  S.  Blanchard, 
a  distinguished  lawyer  and  partner  of 
Judge  Bain,  C.  N.  Bell,  present 
secretary  of  the  Winnipeg  Board  of 
Trade,  James  H.  Rowan, G.  B.  Spencer, 
W.  H.  Lyon,  T.  Nixon,  G.  Brown, 
Thos.  Howard,  D.  W.  Stobart,  Geo. 
S.  McTavish,  A.  F.  Eden,  Jacob 
Smith,  and  J.  St.  L.  McGinn.  The 
Hon.  A.  Percy  and  Lady  Percy  of 
London,  England,  and  M.A.  Bigford, 
of  St.  Paul,  were  among  the  strangers 
present.  The  latter,  with  W.  F. 
Alloway,  and  Contractor  Willis,  after 
taking  part  'in  the  ceremony  connected 
with  the  driving  of  the  last  spike,  con- 
tinued the  journey  to  St.  Paul,  and 
were  thus  the  first  passengers  to  make 
the  journey  by  rail  from  Winnipeg  to 
the  capital  of  Minnesota. 

The  special  train  used  for  the  trip 
was  naturally  of  a  primitive  character, 
consisting  of  a  locomotive,  three  flat 
cars,  and  a  trainmen's  caboose.     The 
latter  had  been,  to  some  extent,  fitted 
up  for  the  comfort  of  the  ladies,  but 
after  all  that  was  possible  had  been 
done,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
coach  did  not  compare  favorably  with 
the   standard   sleepers   now   operated 
between     Winnipeg    and     the     Twin 
Cities.     The   crew   in    charge   of   the 
train  consisted  of  Fred  Hayward,  con- 
ductor, C.  D.  Vanaman,  engineer,  and 
J.  Donovan,  fireman.  The  weather  was 
not  unpleasant,  though  somewhat  cold, 
and  most  of  the  men  stood  on  the  deck 
of  the  flat  cars  during  the  trip. 

The  locomotive  whistled  shrilly,  and 
the  train  moved  across  the  Seine  River, 
past  St.  Norbert  and  Niverville,  to 
Otterburne,   at    Rat     River,    twenty- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


31 


eight  miles  from  Winnipeg,  which  was 
reached  at  ten  minutes  past  ten 
o'clock. 

At  Otterburne  a  large  quantity  of 
wood,  which,  as  the  facetious  fireman 
remarked  at  the  time,  also  O't-ter-burn, 
had  been  stored,  and  the  supply  for 
the  locomotive  was  replenished.  Water 
was  needed  for  the  boiler  and  a  suffic- 
ient quantity  was  secured  from  the 
drain  on  the  side  of  the  grade,  by 
means  of  a  syphon. 

From  the  river  the  train  proceeded, 
at  a  rate  of  twenty-five  miles  an  hour, 
to  the  camp  of  the  contractors,  where 
a  stop  was  made.  All  the  passengers 
on  the  flat  cars  alighted  and  took 
advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  warm 
themselves.  Passing  Arnaud  a  few 
minutes  later,  the  wigwam  of  an  Indian 
was  observed  to  the  left.  This  sight 
aroused  a  discussion  with  reference  to 
the  future  of  the  red  race,  and  numerous 
observations  were  made  regarding  the 
manner  in  which  the  Indians  of  the 
continent  retired  further  into  the 
fastnesses  as  the  iron  rails  of  the  trans- 
portation companies  were  laid  across 
the  plains.  It  was  admitted  that  the 
native  Americans,  on  the  advent  of 
the  European,  must  disappear  even 
from  those  areas  which  his  ancestors 
had  held  in  undisputed  possession  for 
thousands  of  years,  and  that  the  arrival 
of  the  iron  horse  meant  the  disappear- 
ance for  ever  of  the  picturesque  Indian 
pony.  The  construction  of  the  railway 
line,  which  meant  so  much  in  con- 
nection with  the  development  of  the 
vast  Northwest  was  but  another  seal 
set  on  the  hopeless  struggle  of  the 
Indian  with  destiny. 

"Of  what  tribe  are  they  ?"  asked  one 
of  the  ladies  in  the  caboose,  addressing 
Contractor  Willis,  and  looking  intently 
at  the  dirty  canvas  tent.  "These," 
replied  the  cast-iron  contractor,  "these, 
— well,  I  presume  they  are  of  all  tribes. 
They  are  a  lot  of  our  Ontario  boys, 
who  have  been  at  work,  hauling  in 
ties." 

Just  at  noon,  the  bridge  over  the 
Roseau  River  was  reached,  and  as  the 
train  crossed,  it  was  greeted  with 
repeated  cheers  from  the  visitors  who 
had  come  from  the  south  to  take  part 
in  the  ceremony.  The  travelleis  on 
the  train  from  the  north  responded 
vigorously,  the  whistling  of  the  loco- 
motive increased  the  din.  The  bridge 
over  the  Roseau,  one  hundred  and 
ninety  feet  long  and  thirty  feet  high, 
had  been  put  together  in  four  days  but 
it  appeared  quite  stable  and  service- 
able. 

At  Penzo,  the  station  just  south  of 
the  Roseau,  the  last  spike  was  to  be 
driven.  One  hundred  and  twenty-five 
yards  of  track  had  been  left  unlaid, 
in  order  that  the  visitors  might  have 
the  opportunity  of  seeing  how  the 
work  was  done.    Two  gangs  had  been 


The  Diminishing 
Dollar 

The    dollars  you  get 

are  just  as  large   as 

they  ever  were,  but 

they    are    smaller    in 

purchasing  power  than  ever  before.     The 

problem  is  how  to  make  a  dollar  go  as  far 

as  possible  in  purchasing  the  necessities  of 

life.    For  a  dollar  you  can  get  one  hundred 

Shredded  Wheat  Biscuits 

and  that  means  a  hundred  wholesome,  nourishing 
breakfasts.  If  you  add  coffee,  milk  and  a  little  cream, 
a  deliciously  strengthening  and  satisfying  Shredded 
Wheat  breakfast  should  not  cost  over  five  cents. 
Shredded  Wheat  Biscuit  is  the  whole  wheat  prepared 

in  digestible  form.  It  is 
ready  -  cooked  and  ready- 
to-serve. 


Alwaysheat  the  Biscuit  in  the  oven  to  restore 
crispness.  For  breakfast  serve  with  hot 
milk  and  a  little  cream,  adding  salt  or  sugar 
to  suit  the  taste.  Deliciously  nourishing  for 
any  meal  in  combination  with  sliced  bananas, 
baked  apples,  stewed  prunes,  or  canned  or 
preserved  fruits.  Triscuit  is  the  Shredded 
Wheat  wafer  and  is  eaten  as  a  toast  with 
butter,  cheese  or  marmalade. 

"It'sAUintheShredsl 

The  Canadian  Sbreddel  Wheat  Co.,  Ltd. 
Niagara  Falls,  Ontario 

Toronto  Office:    M  WsUincton  St.,  East. 


111 


engaged  on  the  work,  one  operating 
southward,  and  one  northward.  Both 
gangs  were  anxious  to  make  a  record 
in  putting  down  the  final  rails  and  each 
was  anxious  to  surpass  the  other  in 
the  last  round.  At  a  signal  from 
Contractor  Willis,  who  stood  equidis- 
tant from  the  gangs,  the  parties  com- 
menced laying  the  iron  at  top  speed. 
Before  the  bystanders  knew  what  was 
transpiring,  the  short  gap  was  filled, 
and  loud  cheers  from  the  gang  at  the 


north  announced  that  ,they  claimed 
the  victory.  The  gang  from  the  south 
cheered  with  equal  vigor,  making  a 
similar  claim,  and  no  one  was  able  to 
decide  to  whom  the  honor  was  due. 
There  was  a  slight  delay  in  cutting 
the  rails  to  make  the  perfect  com- 
munication, after  which  the  spike  was 
placed  in  position,  ready  to  receive  the 
last  blow  of  the  hammer. 

G.  B.  Spencer,  a  well-known  Win- 
Continued  on  page  45. 


32 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Ingersoll  Cream  Cheese?  Often 
and  often  you  have  seen  it  at  your 
grocer's,  but— have  you  ever 
bought  a  package  to  try  out 
this  delicious  cheese  for  yourself  ? 


(^loge^orK 

is  quite  different  from  ordinary 
cheese.  You'll  find  it  creamier — 
more  digestible  and  nourishing — 
and  it  has  a  delightfully  distinctive 
flavor  of  its  own.  Makes  dozens 
of  tasty  dishes.  Send  for  our 
little  recipe  folder. 

"Spreads  Like  Butter" 


Sold  by 

Grocers 

everywhere 

— ISc  and 

25c  a 
package 


THE  INGERSOLL 
PACKING  CO.  LTD. 

INGERSOLL,  ONT. 


STYLES 


carried  to  ex- 
tremes,  are  usual- 
ly ridiculous. 
Of  course  you 
don't  want  to  be 
ridiculous  but  you 
do  want  to  be 
stylish. 

There  is  no  way 
in  which  you  can 
add  so  much  of 
style,  so  inexpen- 
sively.to  your  new 
dresses  as  by  the 
use  of  covered 
buttons.  Of  the 
same  shade  or  of 
contrasting  color, 

they  form  a  trimming  that  is  in  the  best  of 

taste  and  the  height  of  fashion. 

We  are  able  to  supply  you  or  make  to  your 

order  any  style  or  color  of  button — as  well 

as    pleating,   hemstitching,   scalloping,   etc. 

For  prices  and  booklet,  write 

TORONTO   PLEATING   COMPANY 

Dept.   G        TORONTO,  ONT.  3 


This  department  is  under  the  direction  of  "Kit  "  who  under  this  familiar  pen 
name  has  endeared  herself  to  Canadian  women  from  Belle  Isle  to  Victoria.  Every 
month  she  will  contribute  sparkling  bits  of  gossip,  news  and  sidelights  on  life  as 
seen  through  a  woman's  eyes. 


Green  spray  showers  lightly  down  the  cascade 
of  the  larch; 

The  graves  are  riven, 
And  the  Sun  comes  with  power  amid  the  clouds 
of  heaven  ! 

Before  his  way 

Went  forth  the  trumpet  of  the  March; 

Before  his  way,  before  his  way, 
Dances  the  pennon  of  the  May  ! 
O  earth,  unchilded,  widowed  Earth,  so  long 
Lifting  in  patient  pine  and  ivy  tree 
Mournful  belief  and  steadfast  prophecy. 
Behold  how  all  things  are  made  true  I 
Behold  your  bridegroom  cometh  in  to  you. 
Exceeding  glad  and  strong. 

QPRING  is  at  the  door  and  the  green 
is  on  the  bough,  but  there  is  some- 
thing painfully  old-fashioned  in  Ten- 
nyson's line  "In  the  Spring  the  young 
man's  fancy  lightly  turns  to  thoughts 
of  love."  For  Spring  has  become  a 
forbidden  subject  with  the  bards,  not 
to  say  the  editors,  and  no  one  sings  of 
Iov*e  now  for  fear  of  being  laughed  at. 
But  it  is  love  that  swings  the  world's 
clock  after  all.  Few  stories  or  poems 
are  worth  while  without  it.  Without 
it  the  newspapers  would  cease  to  be, 
for  it  is  at  the  bottom  of  almost  every 
crime,  moving  men  to  war  and  deeds 
of  "derring  do,"  and  it  is  the  heart  and 
mind  of  the  divorce  court. 

Miss  Braddon — who  used  to  live 
long  ago  with  Charles  Dickens  and 
Ouida  in  a  potato  dyke  library  in  an 
Irish  garden^ — said  once  that  she  got 
all  the  plots  for  those  thrilling  love- 
stories  seasoned  with  murder  and 
peppered  with  mystery  out  of  the 
London  papers.  And  we  have  little 
doubt  that  she  did. 

Take,  for  instance,  that  true  tale 
of  the  woman  who  lived  in  a  mystery 
chamber  at  the  back  of  a  lawyer's 
ofifice  until  last  December;  or  that 
London  train  horror  whereby  a  little 
child  met  with  an  evil  fate,  or — ^to 
come  to  our  own  country — -that  story 
of  the  Winnipeg  midwife  who  stole 
the   new-born   baby — a   story   all    the 


more  strange  because  no  baby  at  all 
figured  in  the  case.  What  plots  are 
here  for  a  Wilkie  Collins  or  a  Bertha 
M.  Clay  ?  And  talking  of  love,  what 
love  that  was  that  could  induce  a 
young  and  handsome  woman  to 
immure  herself  in  one  room  for  three 
years  for  the  sake  of  one  man — and 
this  in  a  village  where  everybody 
knows  everyone  else  and  where  gossip 
is  "our  daily  bread." 

You  remember  the  story  ?  For 
fifteen  years,  since  she  was  twenty- 
three,  this  highly  educated  girl  sacri- 
ficed her  youth  and  beauty  and  life 
on  the  altar  of  love,  and  lived  if  ever 
woman  did,  the  axiom  "The  world 
well  lost  for  love."  For  three  years 
she  voluntarily  immured  herself  in  a 
small  room,  living  the  life  of  a  recluse 
separated  from  family  and  friends — 
"because  I  loved  him  better  than  any- 
thing else  on  earth  ....  any 
woman  who  loved  a  man  as  I  did 
would  be  willing  to  sacrifice  the  world 
for  him ....  nobody  could  have 
loved  him  as  I  have  ....  I 
asked  nothing  but  to  be  near  him." 
What  manner  of  man  must  he  have 
been  to  inspire  such  an  unselfish  love 
as  this  ?  "I  have  been  much  happier 
in  my  secret  room,"  said  this  strange 
woman, "than  most  married  women  in 
their  homes  with  husband  and  chil- 
dren." 

After  all  the  old  saying  "fact  is 
stranger  than  fiction''  is  truer  than 
most  of  the  maxims  the  wise  have 
given  to  us.  Nothing  imagined, 
nothing  fictional  could  ever  be  more 
astonishing  than  those  practical 
things  we  call  facts  can  be  at  times. 

BIRTHDAYS 
COME    time    this    merry    month    of 
May  the  Pedlar  will  have  a  birth- 
day.   Wisely,  the  date  of  it  is  forgotten, 
for  be  it  known  to  you  fair  dames,  it  is 
Continued  on  page  36. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


33 


The  Woman  Of  It 

Continued  from  page  28. 
caught  it  and  it  glittered  as  it  lay  there. 

"You  have  dropped  your  ring,"  he 
said. 

"Give  it  me." 

"No,"  he  said  very  quietly  "I  can't 
do  that — it  is  Denzil's  ring  is  it  not  ?" 

"Yes." 

He  did  not  stoop  to  pick  it  up  and 
she  rose  from  her  chair.  "How  careful 
you  are,"  she  said — there  was  mockery 
in  her  voice. 

"It  behoves  us  both  to  be,"  he  said 
gravely. 

It  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  could  bear 
no  more.  She  knelt  down  and  began 
groping  for  the  ring — but  she  had  come 
between  it  and  the  firelight.  He 
looked  down  at  her  as  she  knelt  there, 
as  it  were,  at  his  feet. 

"Is  this  fair,  Valerie  ?"  he  said  very 
quietly. 

"Fair,"  she  said — she  gave  a  deep 
breath.  "Fair  !  No,  Robert,  it  is 
utterly  despicable  of  me." 

"You  have  just  to  pull  yourself 
together  !  You  have  plenty  of  pluck, 
go  back  to  your  chair  and  shut  your 
eyes  and  then  you  may  sleep — ^you  are 
just  overwrought." 

She  stretched  out  her  hands,  moving 
them  over  the  floor,  blindly  as  it  were. 
He  had  seen  in  his  youth  an  engraving 
of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  blindfolded,  feeling 
for  the  block  upon  which  she  was  to  lay 
her  head.  Something  in  Valerie's 
attitude  reminded  him  of  that  picture. 
For  all  his  manhood,  he  felt  as  if  he 
could  have  wept. 

"Have  you  found  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  here  it  is — are  you  going  to 
leave  me  now  ?" 

"Yes,  I  am  going  back  to  Lady 
Merton  and  to  the  others — you  will 
try  to  sleep  until  Denzil  comes.  Your 
voice  sounds  exhausted — " 

"Does  it  ?" 

"Yes — that  means  you  are  tiied, 
you  know." 

"Yes,"  she  said  "I'm  tired,  Robert — 
horribly  tired  of  being  so  miserable  ! 
I  would  give  the  whole  of  my  life  if  I 
could  just  have  half  an  hour  of  the 
old  hai)piness,  that  I  never  appreciated." 

"Where  is  your  father,  now  ?" 

"He  and  mother  are  visiting — why 
should  they  not  ?  They  have  left  me 
in  good  keeping — " 

"I  wish  your  father  were  with  you  !" 

"I  flon't,"  she  said  with  fervor. 

"He  would  be  a  help  to  you." 

"No  one  can  be  that." 

He  said  no  more  but  went  to  the 
door,  opened  it  softly  and  was  gone 

Valerie  sank  back  into  the  chair  and 
covercKl  her  face  with  her  hands.  She 
did  not  cry,  but  lay  there  without 
moving  and  gradually  it  seemed  to  her, 
that  the  tension  of  her  nerves  were 
relaxing. 


THIS  ADVERTISEMENT  IS  WORTH 

A  Hundred  Dollars  to  You 


Clip  out  diis  advt.,  write  your 
name  and  address  on  the  margin  of 
it,  and  mail  it  to  us  at  once.  You 
w  11  promptly  receive  our  After- 
Easter  Sale  OfTer  that  will  save  you 
One  Hundred  Dollars  on  the  pur- 
chase of  as  fine  a  piano  as  anybody 
in  your  county  owns  o  can  buy- 
But  you  must  act  quickly — ^the 
number  of  pianos  at  this  special 
price  is  limited. 


Sherlock-Manning  cfntury  Piano 

"  Canada's  Biggest  Piano  Value" 

Every  piano  in  this  sale  is  brand-new,  straight  from  our  modern 
factory,  and  warranted  in  every  detail.  The  reduction  of  $100  from 
the  regular. price  :s  bona  fide.  Thus  this  advt.  actually  represents  a 
saving  of  $100  to  you. 

You,  or  any  musical  expert,  can  test  the  piano  in  any  reasonable 
manner  before  you  buy  it.  You  can  take  it  on  easy  terms,  if  you 
wsh.  You  can  choose  that  style  and  finish  you  like  best.  Clip  out 
this  advt.  and  send  it  now. 

Bear  in  mind  that  every  piano  in  this  sale  is  abso- 
lutely new  and  perfect — exactly  the  same  Sherlock- 
Manning  Piano  that  has  won  so  great  a  fame  for  exqui- 
site tone,  long  service  and  moderate  cost.  Clip  out 
the  advt.  and  mail  it  to  us  at  once.  You  will  get  full 
particulars  by  return  mail.     Address  Dept  11, 

Sherlock-Manning  Piano  Co. 

LONDON   {No  street  Address  Necessary)   CANADA 


"I  think  I  could  sleep,"  she  said  to 
herself.  She  closed  her  eyes  and  soon 
she  was  sleeping.  Denzil  found  her  so 
when  he  returned.  He  came  in  softly 
and  stood  for  a  while  looking  down  on 
her.  Then  he  stroked  her  hair  lovingly 
and  she  woke  up. 

"Oh,  what  is  it  ?  where  am  I  ?"  she 
cried  in  acute  distress. 

He  put  his  arms  around  her.  "You 
are  with  me,  you  are  quite  safe,"  he 
said  kissing  her  softly. 

She  clung  to  him.  "I  have  been 
asleep, ' '  she  said .  "  You  awakened  me — 
— I  am  afraid — " 

Her  clinging  to  him  was  exquisite — 
he  had  never  felt  her  so   much  his  as 


this  moment,  when  she  had,  if  he  had 
but  known  it,  drifted  away  from  him 
farther  than  she  had  ever  been. 

Gradually  she  grew  calmer.  "Why, 
it  must  be  late,"  she  said.  "You  have 
dressed  for  dinner." 

"No,  it  is  quite  early,"  he  said,  "I 
changed — I  did  not  want  to  come 
near  you  in  the  clothes  I  wore  !" 

"Why  not  ?"  she  asked — she  was 
quite  herself  again. 

"I  have  been  down  to  the  village — 
the  factor  came  for  me — there  are  one 
or  two  cases  of  diphtheria  there.Valerie, 
have  you  ever  had  it  ?" 

She  laughed.  "No,"  she  said,  "have 
you  ?" 


34 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A  Father's  Soliloquy--No.  1 
The  Boy's  Future 

"His  future  prosperity  will  demand  more  knowledge  than  I  had 
the  opportunity  of  acquiring  in  my  youth. 

Competition  in  his  day  will  be  much  keener  than  it  is  right  now, 
and  goodness  knows  it's  keen  enough. 

I  have  felt  the  need  of  a  university  training,  again  and  again. 
His  success  in  life  will  demand  it. 
How  best  insure  his  future? 

A  ten  or  twelve  year  endowment  policy  in  The  London  Life  In- 
surance Company  would  make  my  dreams,  regarding  his  success, 
come  true  whether  I  live  or  die.  The  cost  would  be  small — I 
would  never  miss  the  annual  payments. 
And — The  London  Life  makes  about  all  the 
profit  a  solid  and  safely-managed  financial 
concern  can  make." 

The  London  Life 

Insurance     Company 


LONDON 


CANADA 


S 


"I  don't  matter — I'm  very  strong. 
Little  men  slip  through  all  kinds  of 
diseases." 

"I'm  strong  too." 

"You  have  got  thin — still  I  don't 
suppose  there  is  any  real  danger — • 
the  whole  place  wants  a  thorough 
overhauling.  We  ought  to  have  had 
it  done  before  but  you  know  what 
these  people  are.  They  won't  budge 
out  of  their  houses  even  if  it  is  for  their 
own  good." 

"You  are  not  firm  enough  with 
them — wait  until  I  come." 

"I  don't  want  to  wait  another  day," 
he  said  suddenly.  "Valerie,  have  you 
the  least  idea  of  how  much  I  love  you  ? 
It  came  to  me  when  I  was  walking  up 
from  the  village,  what  shadows  the 
other  people  in  the  world  are,  com- 
pared to  you.  It  seems  to  me  as  if 
there  were  no  living  people  except  you  ! 
You  are  the  heart  of  the  world." 

"Denzil,"  she  said.  "What  would  you 
do  if  I  were  to  fail  you — if  I  were  to  be 
quite  different  from  what  you  think 
I  am  ?" 


"I  should  go  on  loving  the  real  you," 
he  said  steadily.  "I  should  be  quite 
sure  that  it  would  be  infinitely  better 
and  greater,  than  my  poor  image  of 
you." 

"Then  under  no  circumstances 
would  you  leave  off  loving  me  ?" 

'  Dear,"  he  said,  "How  could  I  ?  It 
would  not  be  I,  if  I  could  !" 

And  then  he  held  her  to  him  and 
kissed  her  until  she  said  "I  must  go, 
Denzil,"  and  as  she  walked  up  the 
stairs  and  looked  at  the  pictures  of 
the  Mertons,  who  ornamented  the 
staircases — she  said  to  herself,  "I 
believe  I  am  the  worst  woman  who 
ever  lived  !" 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Sinclair  had  been  at  Barranmuir  two 
days,  but  he  had  never  seen  Valerie 
alone  again.  To  tell  the  truth  he  did 
not  see  much  of  Denzil  either.  He 
threw  himself  wholeheartedly  into  the 
business  of  shooting,  enjoying  the 
tramping  on  the  moors,  the  rough 
picnics,  the  soaking  rain  even,  as  if  he 


had  only  one  thought  in  the  world, 
and  that  was  sport. 

The  other  men  of  the  party  took  to 
him  at  once,  forgetting  that  he  was  the 
darling  of  the  oi)eratic  stage,  remem- 
bering only  that  he  was  a  good  fellow 
and  a  thorough  sportsman.  Indeed  he 
was  keener  than  any  one  of  them. 

"I  have  to  be  in  Paris,  rehearsing  a 
new  opera  in  a  few  days'  time,"  he 
told  Bertram  Sanday  as  they  were 
tramping  home  together. 

"How  quaint,"  .said  Colonel  Sanday. 

"Is  it  not  ?  When  I  am  here,  it  is 
an  effort  to  remember  the  stage,  just 
as  when  I  am  singing  I  can't  think  of 
anything  else." 

"I  suppose  it  is  being  English  really, 
that  makes  you  keen  alx)ut  this  !" 

"My  mother  was  a  Scotchwoman — 
but  my  father  is  English  right  enough." 

"What  Sinclairs  does  he  belong  to  ? 
There  are  ever  so  many  branches." 

"The  Berkshire  ones." 

"Does  he,  by  Jove  ?"  said  Colonel 
Sanday. 

"He  is  nephew,  he  tells  me,  to  Sir 
Fulke  Sinclair  of  Ablwt's  Wood — do 
you  happen  to  know  anything  about 
him  ?" 

"  Yes  indeed."  Colonel  Sanday 
stared  at  him.  "He  has  one  of  the 
finest  places  in  Berkshire — are  you  the 
only  son  —  or  have  you  an  elder 
brother  ?" 

"I  am  the  only  one,"  said  Sinclair. 

"Then  your  father  must  be — " 
Colonel  Sanday  stopped  short,  and 
coughed. 

"He  is,"  said  the  young  man  with 
indescribable  bitterness.  "He  is  not  a 
father  to  be  proud  of." 

"He  is  alive  ?" 

"Yes — he  is  in  England.  I  saw  him 
in  London  after  many  years  of  ab- 
sence from  him." 

"He  has  been  living  abroad,  then  ?" 

"I  presume  so — I  lived  in  Rome 
until  I  was  a  small  boy  of  about  ten  or 
eleven — then  my  mother  and  I  went  to 
Florence  but  not  with  my  father.  She 
and  I  lived  together  until — she  died." 

"I  understand,"  said  Colonel  San- 
day. He  did  understand,  for  Geoffrey 
Sinclair's  storj-  was  well  known.  To 
himself  he  was  saying,  "I  wonder  how 
Sinclair  brought  into  the  world  a 
straight,  open-eyed  young  fellow  like 
this.  The  son  answered  his  unspoken 
thought. 

"I  owe  all  that  I  am  to  my  mother," 
he  said.  "She  was  splendid.  I  don't 
suppose  there  will  ever  be  another  one 
like  her!" 

"She  was  Scotch,  you  say  ?" 

"Yes  her  maiden  name  was  Mac- 
Donald — Jean  Macdonald." 

"I  wonder  if  you  would  take  my 
advice,"  said  Colonel  Sanday.  "If  I 
were  you,  I  should  make  myself  known 
Continued  on  page  56. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 

0 


35 


to  Meals  With  Us 

Ten  meals  like  these — delightful  meals  of  Puffed 
Grains  served  in  various  ways.  Breakfasts  and 
suppers  which  you'll  never  forget.  Our  offer  to- 
day is  to  pay  for  all  ten.  so  all  your  folks  may 
know  the  joys  of  Puffed  Grains. 


iaiiiaiuiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiii#iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiwiiiiiiiiffiiiiiiiiiiiii 


liililllillllllllllllllllliilliiliiliiliiliiUilmillliilUllllllllllllllig 


The  Coupon  Pays  for  All 


To-day  we  make  this  offer  to  you,  as  we  make  it  every  spring. 
Every  year,  on  the  verge  of  summer,  when  millions  of  homes  enjoy 
Puffed  Grains. 

Go  to  your  grocer  and  buy  from  him  a  l"-cent  package  of 
Puffed  Rice.  Take  this  coupon  with  you.  He  will]  give  you  for  it 
a  lO-cent  package  of  Puffed  Wheat,  and  we  will  pay  the  dime. 

Thus  for  [15  cents  you  get  two  packages  this  week — ten  meals 
of  Puffed  Wheat  and  ten  of  Puffed  Rice.  And  ten  of  the  meals 
are  our  treat. 

You  Will  Never  Forget 

After  this  test  you  will  never  forget  the  delights  of  Puffed  Wheat 
and  Puffed  Rice. 

You  will  J  see  whole  grains  puffed  by  steam  explosion  to  eight 
times  normal  size.     You   will   see      ,,^,.,^.™^.^^„„».,„,,„„^,.fc„ 
grains  thin  and  porous,  crisp  and 
fragile,  with  a  taste  like  toasted  nuts. 

You  will  see  bubble-like  grains 
which  fairly  melt  in  the  mouth  into 
almond-flavored  granules.      And  a 

thousand     future     meals    will    be       '^"^"^"^"  '^' """ 
made  more  delightful  because  you  know  of  Puffed  Grains. 


I  Puffed  Wheat,  10c 
i  Puffed  Rice,       15c 


Then  the  guns  are  shot  and  the  steam  explodes.  Each 
granule  is  blasted  to  pieces. 

This  is  Prof.  Anderson's  process  for  making  digestion  easy 
and  complete.  No  other  process  does  that.  In  the  best  of  cook- 
ing at  least  half  of  the  granules  remain  solid  and  unbroken. 

So  Puffed  Grains  are  more  than  enticing.  They  are  scientific  foods. 
Your  physician  knows  them  to  be  the  best  cooked  foods  in  existence- 

Good  for  10  Cents. 

Buy  from  your  grocer  a  15-cent  package  of  Puffed  Rice. 
Then  present  this  coupon  and  he  will  give  you  a  10-cent  package 
of  Puffed  Wheat.     He  will  collect  the  10  cents  from  us. 

Serve  some  of  thesi  grains  with   milk  and  sugar.      Mix  some 
of  them  with  fruit.     Serve  some  for  supper,  like  bread  or  crackers, 
^,,^,.^_„.,^,.,^„^,,^.,^,.^,,_       floating  in  bowls  of  milk. 

Use  some  like  nut  meats  in 
homecandy  making  or  as  garnish  for 
ice  cream.  And  let  the  children 
when  at  play  eat  the  grains  like  pea- 
nuts. You  will  find  these  both  foods 
'''"''"*^^'^^'^^'~~"^^''^'""  and  confections.  Cut  out  this 
coupon,  lay  it  aside  and  present  it  when  you  go  to  the  store. 


Except  in 

Extreme 

West 


I 

i 

1 


Every  Granule  Exploded 
In  Prof.  Anderson's  Way 

Those  cells  in  each  Puffed  Grain  are  caused  by  a  hundred 
million  explosions.  Each  separate  food  granule  is  exploded 
from  inside. 

The  grains  are  sealed  in  guns,  then  subjected  to  fearful  heat. 
Thus  the  trifle  of  moisture  inside  of  each  granule  is  changed  to 
explosive  st^am. 


T^e  Quaker  Qats  (pmpany 


SIGN  AND  PRESENT  TO  YOUR  GROCER 
Good  in  Canada  or  the  United  States  Only. 


C70 


This  Certifia  that  I,  thia  day,  bought  one  package  of  Puffed  Rice , 
and  my  grocer  Included  free  with  It  one  package  of  Puffed  Wheat. 


Name . 


To  the  Grocer 


!•  will  rfmlt  y<Mi 


H'  .onU  for  thU  r»>u- 


Ml 


Address 


DaUd 


1914. 


This  coupon  not  good  if  pretented  ajtn  Jun*  25, 1914. 
Grocers  must  send  all  rtdsemed  coupons  to  us  by  July  t. 


MjTB-  No  family  i" 

lieOUtofBltlHT  I'lltT'.l 

Ai  ««iry  J"l>bor  i»  w  m 


If  yourgrtjOT  ulioui.l 
11  b«  c^-tn  new  nto- k. 


UUlllUltlUUItttllUl 


PitMt  nMoUcc  Canaoa  Montblt  when  you  write  to  advutlNif 


36 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


FINE  CLOTHES 

FOR  MEN 


TORONTO 


Agents  in  every  City  and  Town  in  Canada. 


The  Lowndes  Company  Limited 

142=144  West  Front  Street,  Toronto 


^mm 


TG 


— ^^^^^y  refreshes.    Its  generous  flavour 
and    rare   fragrance    are   delicious. 


RiCHD. 
DiCKESON 

&  Co.,  Ltd. 
London,  Eno. 


ASUr    YOUR    GROCER 


's^m^^__ 


Agent: 
Lloyd  Lock  &Co 
Winnipeg. 


The  Pedlar  s  Pack 

Continued  from  page  32. 

not  members  of  the  sweet  sex  only  that 
is  averse  from  birthdays  after  they 
pass  the  thirty — ahem  !  milestone,  but 
those  of  the  inferior,  to  wit — the  mas- 
culine sex,  as  well. 

The  learned  lexicographer,  Dr. 
Johnson,  was  apt  to  grow  pettish  when 
reminded  of  the  flight  of  time.  Once 
he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale:  "Boswell, 
with  some  of  his  troublesome  kindness, 
has  informed  this  family  and  reminded 
me  that  the  eighteenth  of  September 
is  my  birthday."  What  an  excellent 
phrase  that  is — "with  some  of  his 
troublesome  kindness" —  ?  It  exactly 
fills  the  case  of  the  Pedlar  who  look's 
upon  anyone  who  alludes  to  such 
arbitrary  divisions  of  time  as  birthdays, 
as  rather  a  common — not  to  say  vulgar 
person. 

Jesting  apart,  birthdays,  like  Christ- 
mas, should  be  festivals  only  for  the 
children — those  little  happy  creatures 
who  understand  nothing  beyond  the 
cake  and  ice  cream  of  it.  Only  children 
of  a  larger  growth  reflect,  and  then  it 
is  to  think  of  the  good  intentions  all 
forgotten,  the  loss  of  youth,  the  slow 
increase  of  our  happiness  and  our 
fortunes,  and,  perhaps,  the  wasted 
months.  Which  of  us  could  not  write 
with  Byron — 

Through  life's  dull  road,  so  dim  and  dirty 
I  have  dragged  to  three  and  thirty: 

What  have  these  years  left  to  me  ? 
Nothing — except  thirty-three  ? 

For  ourself  we  look  upon  Life  as  a  lap 
upon  a  journey — whither  ?  And  so 
keep  prepared  in  a  measure  for  our 
next  change  of  cars.  More  than  half- 
packed  is  our  trunk — alas  !  it  is 
nearing  its  full  of  "unconsidered 
trifles"  gathered  upon  our  journey  here. 
Every  birthday  we  drop  something 
into  it- — usually  a  worthless  remnant 
which  will  be  of  no  use  to  us  whither 
we  are  going.  This  year  what  will  the 
Pedlar  drop  into  his  Box  of  Life  ? — 
perhaps  his  Pack — perhaps  his  pencil 
— more  belike  himself — when,  kind 
comrades  of  the  road — he  will  be 
obliged  to  lock  himself  up  from  the 
inside  and  await  the  porter  to  carry 
him  whither  he  knows  not.  Away 
with  birthdays  !  They  are  not  seemly 
for  people  who  are  nearing  the  gateway 
of  the  Garden  of  Life.  They  are  disturb- 
ers of  the  peace.  They  are  reminders  of 
thegrimold  fellowwhowaitson  theother 
side  of  the  gate;  the  Fisherman  whose 
net  never  misses  a  fish.  Dr.  Johnson 
was  right.  To  remind,  of  his  birthday, 
one  who  has  passed  the  meridian,  is  to 
do  him  a  "troublesome  kindness." 

THE  WRECKERS 

pRASH  !  Crash  !  Crash  ! 

All  the  way  down  the  stairs  the 
china   came    rolling,    and    after  it  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


37 


lamentations  of  the'maid,  [Susanna's 
common  mode  of  expressing  joy,  grief 
or  amazement  is  by  piercing  Kerry 
wails— only  that  when  compelled  by 
either  gladness  or  wonder,  these  begin 
on  a  low  key,  go  to  heights  unexplored 
by  any  musical  instrument,  that  as 
yet  has  been  invented,  tarry  there  for 
a  while,  and  descend  to  a  basso 
crescendo — which  is  rather  an  Irish 
way  of  expressing  what  we  mean — 
ending  in  low  growls.  Sorrow  or 
dismay  affects  Susanna's  instrument 
differently,  or  rather  in  exactly  the 
opposite  manner.  The  wails  then 
begin  aloft — far  beyond  the  ether,  and 
descend  in  mad  chromatics  a  cat 
might  well  envy,  rising  again  to 
"wildest  pinnacle  of  woe"  and  resting 
there. 

Breaking  crockery,  thundering  tray 
alike  were  lost  in  the  shelter  of  Susan- 
na's outcry,  while  the  well-meaning 
soul  lumbered  down  picking  up  the 
pieces  on  her  way.  All  of  which  sent 
us  to  our  study  to  meditate  upon  the 
philosophy  of  breakages. 

It  is  a  subject  full  of  interest.  There 
is  a  certain  variety  in  the  genus 
wrecker.  The  majority  of  them  have 
a  weakness  for  some  particular  article. 
There  are  those  whose  specialty  is 
handles  and  handles  only. 

You  may  break,  you  may  ruin 
The  cup  if  you  will, 

But  the  handle  clings  fast 
To  Susanna's  hand  still. 

Other  wreckers  affect  saucers;  they 
somehow  pass  through  the  teacup 
itself,  and  impinge  upon  the  saucer. 
Other  Susannas  go  in  for  big  game, 
such  as  mirrors,  clocks,  and  plate 
glass  windows,  and  there  are  also 
wreckers  whose  fad  is  rare  bits  of 
Belleek,  cloisonne  and  porcelain. 
Susanna's  humorous  soul  lives  in 
an  imperfectly  controlled  body  with 
undeveloped  reflexes.  Her  mind 
roams  in  the  fields  of  imagination. 
When  she  is  washing  plates  she  is 
listening  to  the  Salvation  Army's 
band,  and  using  them  as  clashing 
cymbals.  The  only  breakable  thing 
in  the  house  which  she  respects  is  the 
master's  meerschaum.  So  she  never 
dusts  it.  Once  when,  thinking  of  the 
poker,  she  grasped  his  old  clay  pipe 
and  snapped  the  stem  off  short,  she 
dropped  her  duster  and  fled  affrighted 
before  the  flood-tide  of  his  language. 
Ever  after  she  left  the  pipe  rack 
undustetl,  and  was  even  known  to  tip- 
toe past  it  as  a  thing  that  might  break 
into  demoniac  passion  if  looked  at. 
-Apart  from  this,  Susanna  goes  lightly 
upon  her  blithesome  way,  smashing 
every  record  and  assailing  high  heaven 
in  crescendos  and  descendos  with — 

"Shure  it  fell  down  fore-right  me, 
ma'am,  wid  the  gust  o'  wind  that 
crossctl  in  be  the  pantry  winda.  Yirra, 
there  wasn't  anny  weight  to  it'at  all 


The  Chef  of  Spotless  Town  is  gay — 
You'll  note  it  by  his  saucy  way. 
He  minces  dressing:  for  the  birds, 
But  doesn't  stop  to  mince  his  words. 
"It  saves  a  stew,"  says  he,  "to  know 
That  pots  demand 


i^  What  will  thoroughly  dean  kitchenware?   £"«r,\ 


Soap  remo\es  the 
surface  dirt  nicely.  But 
unfortunately,  soap  does 
not  "grip''  the  greasy 
grime. 


Another  form  of 
cleanser  scrapes  off  the 
surface  dirt  but  fails  to 
get  under  the  bumt-in 
grease. 


To  thoroughly  clean  kitchen  ware  you  want 
a  cleanser  like  Sapolio,  which  polishes  the  surface 
and,  at  the  same  time,  removes  every  trace  of 
grease. 


Sapolio  gives  real  suds.     It  works  with- 
out waste. 


\\^'i'/// 


FREE  SURPRISE  FOR  CHILDREN  ! 

Dear  Children  : 

We  have  a  surprise  for  you.  A  toy  Spotless  Town — just  like  the  real 
one,  only  smaller.  It  is  8}^  inches  long.  The  nine  (9)  cunning  people  of 
Spotless  Town,  in  colors,  are  ready  to  cut  out  and  stand  up.  Sent  free  on 
request. 

Enoch  Morgan's  Sons  Company,  Sole  Manufacturers,  New  York  City. 


ma'am,  through  bein'  so  delycate  like 
— but  I  have  the  handle,  ma'am — yis 

ma'am.     O — O — o-o-o 

o-o-o-O — O  ! — which  is  the  best  way 
we  can  present  the  Kerry  wail  in  print. 

SACRIFICE  TO  MAMMON 

TTdoes  not  saymuciiforour  "culture" 
in  regard  to  the  theatre  that  Mr. 
William  Faversham  finds  himself 
obliged — on  the  score  of  heavy  finart- 
cial  losses — to  close  the  doors  on  his 
magnificent  presentation  of  Shake- 
speare— in  Julius  Caesar,  Othello,  and 


Romeo  and  Juliet.  We  have  seen  the 
old-time  Shakesperian  actors:  the  actor 
who  ranted;  the  actor  who  recited;  the 
actor  who  stalked  like  Mr.  Vincent 
Crummies  and  trod  the  boards  with 
long  steps,  a  short  one  and  a  halt, 
like  the  majestic  Mrs.  Vincent  Crum- 
mies. We  have,  in  fact,  seen  and 
heard  every  sort  of  actor — from  the 
barn-stormer  up — do  Shakespeare,  and 
most  of  them  "did  him  in,"  as  they  say 
of  a  murder  in  England.  There  is  the 
audience  which  cannot  bear  Shake- 
speare unless  he  is  done  in  the  manner 


38 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Great  ** 


WifchoMfc  Ami  J  Erfra  Pric( 


Among  oat  lovers,  all  the  world  over,  Quaker  Oats  is  known  as  a  rarity. 
Even  Scotch  connoisseurs  send  here  for  it. 

Because  Quaker  Oats  is  always  made  from  big,  plump,  luscious  grains. 
A  bushel  of  choice  oats  yields  but  ten  pounds  of  Quaker. 

These  picked-out  grains  may  have  twice  the  flavor  of  puny,  half-grown 
grams.  And  that  flavor — kept  intact  by  our  process — has  won  the  world 
to  Quaker. 

Now  there  are  millions,  of  every  race  and  clime,  who  insist  on  this 
Quaker  flavor.     The  demand  has  grown  to  a  thousand  million  dishes  yearly. 

And  now  our  mammoth  output  lets  us  give  you  this  rarity  without  any 
extra  price. 


Flakes  Made  from  Queen  Grains  Only 


If   you  think  Quaker  Oats 
the  welfare  of   children,   this 
important.     It  is  flavor  that 
wins  thera,  and  keeps  them, 
and  causes  them   to  eat  an 
abundance  of  Quaker. 

And  each  dish  means 
energy  and  vim.  Each  sup- 
plies a  wealth  of  the  elements 
needed  for  brains  and  nerves. 


important  to 
flavor  is  also 


And  don't,  if 
away  yourself. 


Don't    let    children    grow 
away  from  this  food  of  foods. 


N< 


ow  a 
25c  Size 

We  now  put  up  a  large 
25  cent  package,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  10-cent  size. 
It  saves  buying  so  often, 
saves  running  out.  Try  it 
• — see  how  long  it  lasts. 


your  vitality  is  taxed,  grow 

As  a  vim-producer,  as  a 
food  for  growth,  all  the  ages 
have  found  nothing  to  com- 
pare with  oats. 

That  is  the  reason  for 
Quaker.  Its  flakes  are  big 
and  inviting.  Its  flavor 
makes  this  dish  delightful. 

You  make  a  mistake 
when  you  don't  get  this 
Quaker  flavor. 


lOc  and  2Sc  per  Package,  Except  in  Far  West 

T^e  Quaker  Qafs  (J>mpany 


classical — murdered   coldly   and    inex- 
orably; there  is  the  other  which  likes 
lis    William    S.    served    with    ginger 
sauce — clamour,  and  outcry,  and  noise; 
there   are  again    audiences  which  de- 
mand that  Shakespeare  be  presented 
by  elocutionists  reciting  blank  verse, 
and  there  is  that  delightful  and  very 
human  audience  which  does  not  under- 
stand William  the  Only,  and  does  not 
care,  and  only  goes  as  it  goes  to  opera, 
because  it  is  the  cultured  thing  to  do. 
And     away     beyond     all     these — 
beyond  the  classical   Benson  and  his 
classical  and  cold  Shakesperian  players, 
stands    William    Faversham    and    his 
star  company.     Here  is  a  man  after 
Merry  Will's  own  heart— all  of  a  man, 
strong,  graceful,  light  of  heart  as  of 
foot — as  ready  for  Petruchio  and  his 
Kate  of  Kates,  as    for    the  humorous 
but     subtle     lago.       Here    is     Mark 
Antony  himself  for  you,  young,  impas- 
sioned, magnetic — one  to  sway  a  crowd 
or  serve  a  friend — why,  Faversham  was 
the   very    incarnation    of    those   great 
figures  which  Shakespeare   lined  with 
a   pen   steeped    in    the   red    blood   of 
human  nature  itself.     He  was  Mark 
Antony,    lago    and — to    our    mind — 
Romeo  as  we  would  have  our  Romeo. 
He  surrounded  himself  with  a  company 
of  such  excellence  that  it  was  difficult 
to  pick  from  among  them  the  leading 
star.    For  instance,  we  faltered  between 
Caesar  and  Brutus;  one  moment  we 
were  all  for  poor  Cassius,  the  next  for 
the  sweetest  Desdemona  (Cissy  Loftus) 
we  ever  met,  the  next  for  the  mighty 
Moor,  and  then  'twas  all  for  lago,  that 
sly,  subtle,  merry  villain. 

"At  last  I've  seen  Othello,"  quoth 
one  Pedlar  to  his  son  as  they  arose  to 
follow  the  crowd  up  the  darkening 
aisles,  "at  last  my  soul  is  satisfied 
with  lago.  Boy,  Shakespeare's  the 
only  one — and  after  him  Faversham." 
And  this  is  the  man  which  a  world 
whose  taste  has  been  vitiated  by  the 
disgusting  problem  plays  reeking  of  the 
underworld;  by  the  revolting  stories 
printed  in  certain  of  the  magazines, 
by  vulgar  vaudeville,  and  sensational 
movie  shows,  has  forced  to  abandon 
his  Shakesperian  repertoire.  Faver- 
sham cannot  live  and  support  a  family 
by  his  art  alone.  He  put  all  he  pos- 
sessed into  his  scenery  and  his  com- 
pany, and  the  outcome  is — failure — - 
but  a  splendid  failure  at  least.  We 
call  ourselves  cultured,  progressive, 
intellectual.  We  are  but  a  mob  of 
hurr>'ing  fools  chasing  shadows. 

SCHOPENHAUER,  THE  PESSIMIST, 
AND  WOMEN 

VVTE  have  just  been  studying  the 
fashions  and  wondering  what 
Schopenhauer  would  say  if  he  could 
see  the  sex  he  abhorred  arrayed  as  its 
members  all  are  now — three-decker 
Continued  on  page  43. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER  39 


Waltham 

Watches 


Waltham  is  the  name  of  the  best-known  and  most 
widely-used  watch  in  the  world.  Waltham  is  the 
index  to  all  that  is  desirable  in  a  watch— accuracy, 
beauty,  inbred  quality,  faithful  service.  Waltham 
on  a  watch  means  high  quality,  but  not  necessarily 
high  price.  There  are  Walthams  for  as  low  a  price 
as  will  buy  a  good  watch,  and  up  to  as  high  a  price 
as  any  one  should  pay. 

At  leading  jewelers  everywhere 

Waltham  Watch  Company,  Montreal 


Plefts^  mention  Canada  Moi<mfi.v  when  you  write  to  adverUMi*. 


40 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A  GREAT 


Parcel -Post  Offer! 

Wonder  Working  Washer! 

Delivered  to  you  for  Only  $1.50 
A  Beautiful  Present  Free 

if    you    order    immediately.     See   Coupon    »t 
the  bottom. 

We  are  able  to  make  this  great  offer  on 
account  of  the  great  reductions   which    have 
been  made  in  the  cost  of  postaj;e. 
Hero  Are   a   Few   of  the   Reasons  Why  You 
Should    Buy    the    Rapid    Vacuum 
WASHING  MACHINE. 
1— It  is  the  only  machine  that  has  a  valve 
which    is    absolutely    necessary    to   create    a 
THCuum,    and    supply     the    compressed    air, 
which  forces  the  water  through  the  clothes. 
2— It  is  the  lightest  machine  made. 
3— It  has  been  awarded    piizes    in  washing 
competitions  over  ^50  washing  machines. 

4— It   will   wash  the  heaviest  HudBon  Bay 
blankets  in  3  minutes. 

5 — It  will  wash 
the  finest  lingerie 
perfectly  in  3  min- 
utes. 

6— It  will  wash 
a  tub  of  anything 
washable  in  3  min- 
utes. 

7— It  will  last  a 
lifetime. 

8— It  will  save 
you  hours  of 
needless  toil. 

&— It  will  save 
many  dollars  a 
year  by  not 
wearing  out  the 
clothes. 

10— It  can  b«  operated  by  a  child  as  easily 
as  an  adult. 

11— It  is  as  easy  to  wash  with  this  machine 
as  it  is  to  mash  a  pot  of  potatoes. 

12— It  will  thoroughly    blue  a  whole  family 
washing  in  30  seconds. 

13— It  will  do  everything 
we  claim  for  it,  or  we  wiU 
return  every  cent  of  your 
money. 

14— It  can  be  used  in  any 
boiler,  tub  or  pail,  equally 
well. 

15— After  use  it  can  be 
dried  with  a  cloth  in  ten 
seconds.  Nothing  to  take 
apart.    Nothing  to  loose. 

After  you  own  one  of  these 
washers  the  hardest  part  of 
the  work  will  be  hanging  out  the  clothes.  If 
for  ANY  reason  you  are  not  satisfied  with  the 
RAPID  VACUUM  WASHER  we  will  gladly 
return  your  money. 

No  more  boilinv.    No  more'rubbing. 
You  can  throw  your  washboard  away. 

FREE— A  SILVER  TEA  SPOON 


■ 
■ 
■ 
■ 

■ 


■ 

■ 
■ 

■ 
■ 


To  every  reader  of  this  paper  who 
sends  us  this  coupon  and  $1.50  for  a 
Rapid  Vacuum  Washer  within 
two  weeks  of  the  receipt  of  this 
paper,  we  will  send  alonj?  -with 
the  washer  absolutely  FREE,  a 
Renuine  Wm.  A.  Rogers  Silver 
Toa  Spoon.  Also  our  agent's 
terms  which  will  show  you  how  you 
can  makeJSO.OOa week.  Don'twait. 
Send  to-day  and  the  washer  and 
spoon  will  be  delivered  toany  ad- 
dress postage  paid  for  $1.50. 
Fiiher-Ford  Mfs. Co., Dept  Vf.^^ 
31  Queen  St.  W.    >     Toronto.  Ont. 


■ 

■ 
■ 
■ 

■ 
■ 
■ 


■ 

■ 
■ 


GRAjrnoTORS 


4y,jo 

-  -     -  -SCVLINDERi     '  IJ 

completolineofenKineaforpIeaHurelaxinchcB,  fishing  boats,  ^^ 
row  boats,  canoes,  nydropiaiu's.  work  boats  and  cruisers.  En. 
gines  of  both  2  and  4-c.vclo  type.  Matcri.il  and  workman 
ship  ahsohitt'ly  guaranteed.  We  are  laryost  builders  of  2-fyc!t 
engines  in  the  world  and  have  ^  over  ItCO  dealers  who  "sell 
Ciray  Knginee    •  _•  _^^  and  give  <iray  service 

CRAY  MOTOR  CO. 
536  Grty  Mgl.r 
Building 
Btlrill,  Mitt. 


CY  WARMAN 

PY  WARMAN  is  dead.  The  news 
came  to  us  with  a  shock.  He  had 
been  a  friend  to  CANADA  MONTH- 
LY for  so  long.  When  the  magazine 
was  only  a  thin-flanked,  struggling  bit 
of  a  hope,  he  wrote  for  it — was  in  every 
number  for  months  at  a  time — and 
helped  to  build  it  up  when  we  needed 
help  sorely. 

He  had  been  a 
friend  toTus  for  even 
longer.  Only  a  week 
or  so  before  he  was 
stricken,  he  had 
dropped  in  to  tell  a 
story  and  say  a 
friendly  word.  We 
had  laughed  with 
him,  and  talked  about 
making  a  trip  west 
together  this  spring 
— only  a  little  while 
ago.  And  now  he  was 
gone.  The  cast-off 
outer  husk  of  him  lay, 
thin  and  shrunken, 
in  the  casket  in  the 
chapel.  The  spirit  of 
him — that  ineffably 
boyish,  cheery,  light- 
hearted  spirit  that  his 
friends  loved — was 
gone  out  into  the 
dark — where  ? 

The  immortal  ques- 
tion, "If  a  man  die, 
shall  he  live  again  ?" 
was  not  one  greatly 
to  disturb  Cy  War- 
man.  One  of  his  in- 
timate friends  has 
written  of  him,  "  In 
the  formal  sense,  he 
was  not  religious.  In 
the  deeper  sense,  out- 
side the  creeds,  he 
was  intensely  so.  He 
held  a  philosophy,  the 
soul   of    which    ani- 


mates every  religion,  and  in  thai  trust 
and  understanding  he  lived  and  died." 
So,  also,  we  knew  him,  a  simple  and 
sincere  man,  direct  of  thought  and 
deed,  emotional  and  generous-hearted. 
Above  all,  he  was  ,s^•mpathetic  and 
kindly.  His  chief  delight  was  found 
in  making  others  happy,  and  he  knew 
that  the  secret  of  being  happy  yourself 
is  found  in  serving  others.  We  never 
knew  a  man  who  had  a  wider  circle  of 


THB  LATE   CY   WAKHAN 


Most  perfect  Made 

THE  INCREASED  NUTRITI- 
OUS VALUE  OF  BREAD  MADE 
IN  THE  HOME  WITH  ROYAL 
YEAST  CAKES  SHOULD  BE 
SUFFICIENT  INCENTIVE  TO 
THE  CAREFUL  HOUSEWIFE 
TO  GIVE  THIS  IMPORTANT 
FOOD  ITEM  THE  ATTENTION 
TO  WHICH  IT  IS  JUSTLY  EN-  i 
TITLED.  I 

HOME  BREAD  BAKING  RE-  \ 
DUCES  THE  HIGH  COST  OF 
LIVING  BY  LESSENING  THE 
AMOUNT  OF  EXPENSIVE 
MEATS  REQUIRED  TO  SUP- 
PLY THE  NECESSARY  NOUR- 
ISHMENT TO  THE    BODY. 

E.  W.  GILLETT  CO.   LTD. 

TORONTO,  ONT. 
WINNIPEG  MONTREAL 


Wear  Jaeger  Spring 

Underwear  and  Smile 

at  the  Weather 

The  only  safe-to-wtar  underwear  for 
spring  with  its  raw,  cold  days  and  vari- 
able weather  is  pure  wool  which  pre- 
vents chills  ancl  preserves  an  even 
temperature. 

Jaeger  Spring  Underwear  is  pure  w(X)l 
of  the  finest  auality  made  to  meet  all 
sanitary  requirements. 

Wear  Jaeger  and  Smile  at 
the  Weather. 

DrJAEGERiSfe 


363  PortageAve.(Carl- 

ton  Block,  Winnipeg 
32  King  Street,  West, 

Toronto. 
784  Vonge  Street,  cor. 

Bloor,  Toronto. 
316  St.  Catherine  St., 

West,  Montreal. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

friends  that  loved  him  for^no  reason 
but  his  comradeship. 

Cy  Warman's  Hfe  was  not  a  long 
one,  as  measured  by  the  traditional 
span  of  three-score  and  ten.  But  into 
it  he  had  crowded  more  living  than 
most  men  experience  in  their  whole 
lives. 

When  little  more  than  a  boy,  he 
began  railroading,  and  it  was  the 
romance  of  the  rails  that  first  inspired 
him  to  sing.  Mr.  Dana,  the  great 
editor  of  the  New  York  "Sun",  brought 
him  east  and  gave  him  his  first  life  in 
the  literary  world.  He  came  to  be 
known  as  "The  Poet  of  the  Rockies" — 
so  well  known,  that  the  newspapers 
drew  him  away  from  the  run  and  the 
roundhouse  to  fresh  and  wider  channels. 

Yet  the  romance  of  the  railway  was 
in  his  blood,  and  drew  him  back— this 
time  not  in  the  roundhouse,  but  in  the 
traffic  department  of  the  Grand  Trunk 
Railway.  He  gained  a  wide  knowledge 
of  Canadian  things  and  people,  and 
wrote  freely  on  Canadian  subjects, 
much  of  his  work  appearing  in  CAN- 
ADA MONTHLY.  The  last  poem  he 
ever  wrote,  "Ma  Jolie  Rose,"  was  in 
habitant  dialect,  and  was  published 
in  our  March  issue. 

Perhaps  the  best  known  of  his  poems 
is,  "Will  the  Lights  Be  White  ?"  a 
singularly  significant  poem  that  we 
will  venture  to  say  was  in  the  minds  of 
all  his  friends  when  the  news  of  his 
passing  flashed  over  the  wires: 

Oft,  when  I  feel  my  engine  swerve. 

As  o'er  strange  rails  we  fare,  , 

I  strain  my  eye  around  the  curve 

For  what  awaits  us  there. 

When  swift  and  free  she  carries  me 

Through  yards  unknown  at  night, 

I  look  along  the  line  to  see 

That  all  the  lamps  are  white. 

The  blue  light  marks  the  crippled  car, 

The  green   light   signals,   "Slow  !" 

The  red  light  is  a  danger  light. 

The  white  light,  "Let  her  go." 

Again  the  open  fields  we  roam. 

And,  when  the  night  is  fair, 

I  look  up  in  the  starry  dome 

And  wonder  what's  up  there. 

For  who  can  speak  for  those  who  dwell 

Behind  the  curving  sky  ? 

No  man  has  ever  lived  to  tell 

just  what  it  means  to  die. 

Swift  towards  life's  terminal  1  trend. 

The  run  seems  short  to-night; 

(iod  only,  knows  what's  at  the  end>— 

I  hope  the  lamps  are  white. 

We  could  formulate  no  better  wish 
for  him  in  the  vast  and  shadowy  spaces 
where  he  who  was  our  friend  is  gone. 


41 


ALBERTA'S  1914  CROP 
D  EPORTS  received  by  the  local  grain 
^^  men  at  Calgary  from  difTerent 
parts  of  Alberta  show  that  the  amount 
of  fall  plowing  done  last  autumn  will 
bring  750,000  more  acres  under  grain 
this  year  than  last. 

On  this  increased  acreage  it  is  esti- 
mated that  20,000,000  more  bushels  of 
grain   will   be  j,'rf)vvn,  of   which    about 


If  you  are  making 
leas  thuii  $.~»0  a  week 

you  should  write  iis_    _  .        _     _ 

today.  We  tan  help  yoa  to  wealth  and  Indepentlcnce  by 
our  plan:  you  ran  work  when  you  please,  w-lierc  you 
please,  always  have  money  and  the  means  of  making 
plenty  more  of  it. 

JUST  LISTEN  TO  THIS.  Ont  man  traveled  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  PaeUic.  IIG  stayed  at  the  besl  hotels, 
lived  like  a  lord  wherever  ho  went  and  eleaned  up  more 
than  SIO. 00  every  (lay  he  was  out.  Anotheriuan  worked 
tile  fairs  and  summer  resorts,  and  when  there  was  nothing 
siJeeial  to  do.  Just  started  out  on  any  street  he  iiappeneu 
to  select,  ^ot  busy  and  took  In  SH.OO  a  day  for  mootb 
after  month.     This  Interests  yoti,  don't  it? 

MY  PROPOSITION 

Is  a  WONDERFUL  NEW  CAMERA  with  Which  yoU 
call  take  and  Inatiintancously  develop  pictures  on  paper 
Past  Cards  and  Tlntyix'a.  Kvery  picture  is  deve-loped 
without  the  use  of  films  or  ncRatives,  and  is  ready  al- 
most Instantly  to  deliver  to  your  customer.  THIS  RE- 
MARKABLE INVENTION  takea  100  pictures  an  hour 
and  Kivea  you  a  profit  from  500  to  1600  i>ercent.  Every. 
body  wanta  pictures  and  each  sale  you  make  advertlsea 
your  business  and  makes  more  sales  for  you.  Simple  In- 
structions accompany  each  outfit,  and  you  can  begin  to 
make  money  the  same  day  the  outOt  reaches  you. 

WE  TRUST  YOU 

SO  MUCH  CONFIDENCE  HAVE  WE  In  our  proposi- 
tion that  we  TRl'S  T  YOU  for  part  of  the  cost  of  the  out- 
fit. The  reyiilar  selllnK  price  of  the  Camera  and  complete 
workins  otitflt  la  reasonable.  The  profits  are  so  blK, 
so  aulPK.  so  sure,  that  you  could  afford  to  pay  the  full 
price  if  we  asked  you  to  do  80.  But  we  are  so  absolutely 
certain  that  you  can  make  ble  money  from  the  start 
that  we  trust  you  for  a  substantial  sum,  which  you  need 
not  pay  imless  you  clean  up  S200.00  the  first  month. 
FAIR  ENOUGH.   ISN'T  IT? 

Do  not  delay  a  minute  but  write  us  today  for  otir  free 
catalog  and  full  particulars. 
L.   USCELLE.   70    Umbard   St..  Oept.    27,    Toronto.  Ont. 


l>enm«te€l/  Lockers 


D«iuii«te«l 
Locken 

Ar«  indispcai- 
ablp  In  fuctoT- 

1«S,      StOTCI. 

clubf,  trymiift- 
■iumt.  tiot«li, 
■  chool*  ftnd 
other  Huch  In- 

■tltUtlODI. 

Th«lr 
BcnafllB. 

Fireproof, 
coiiii>act  and 
durable.  ■  t«- 
•■iirlty  ii«*init 
petty  theft, 
promote  order 
and  ejttem 
uid  economise 
•pace     and 

t1lN% 

laclod* 
Dennist**! 
Locken  la 

font  tpeci- 
fleatloni. 

Dennis 

Wire  and 

Iron 

Works 
Co.,  Ltd., 

L*Bd«n, 


STAMMERING 

overcome  positively.  Our  natural  method*  per- 
manently reitore  natural  apeech.  Graduate  popila 
everywhere.  Write  tor  tree  advice  and  literature. 

THE  ARNOrr  INSrirUTE. BERLIN.  CAN, 


42 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


AIANITOBA 


BEST  POSSIBLE 
LOCATION 


FOR  YOUR  FARM 
OUT  WEST 


In  8izf',  yield,  succulence 
and  flavor  t)i«re  are  do 
nner  veKt^tiiblcs  hi  the  world 
than  tlio«»!  which  the  rich 
MaiilU>»)agoil  pifxliicea.  Th'- 
tiliick  loam  of  Mauttob*  is 
an  ideal  ganlen  soil,  and 
gToyrinti  conditlong  are  phe- 
nomenal. 


O.ie  market  gar.lttriei 
near  W.jiiipj^  pro 
duced  ti'y)  wjrtU  i.f 
plniliaioaioni  on  h»If 
an  acr.i.  Anothur  ra- 
celvU  ♦-.(7.10  fr.Mii  a 
half  acr  •  of  cablit;itoK— 
UnJ  without  fertliizai- 
for  n  yeiri. 


y^LTHOUGH  grain -grow- 
ing has  given  Manitoba 
her  agricultural  pre-eminence 
in  the  eyes  of  the  world,    the 
province  is  known   as  the  very 
Home    of    Mixed     Farming    be- 
cause   of    its    natural    conditions 
and     tremendous     market     advant- 
ages.    The    Manitoba   farmer  works 
not  merely    for   a    living,    but    rather 
for  a  good  big  profit. 

Nowhere     in     the     world     can     foods 
for  stock  be  grown  more  successfully  than 
in    Manitoba,    while    a    clamoring    market 
points   unwaveringly   to   substantial   profits. 

Customs  returns  show  that  during  the 
year  ending  March  31st,  1913,  Manitoba 
imported  1,596,480  dozen  eggs,  valued  at 
$314,121.  It  took  54  cars  to  bring  in  the 
dressed  poultry  required  over  and  above  all 
local  supply,  representing  a  value  of  about 
$243,000.  Approximately  2,000,000  lbs.  of 
butter  were  received  at  Winnipeg  from 
the  United  States  and  Eastern  Canada  dur- 
ing 1912,  a  value  of  $560,000,  while  Win- 
nipeg creamery  companies  bought  $120,000 
worth  of  milk  and  cream  from  two  Minne- 
sota cities  alone.  The  customs  receipts  for 
imported  bacon  and  hams  amounted  to 
nearly  5,000,000  lbs.,  worth  $573,569.  Toma- 
toes came  in  cans  at  the  rate  of  228,292 
lbs.,  while  18,722  bushels  of  potatoes  were 
brought  into  the  province,  together  with 
other  kinds  of  vegetables  to  the  value  of 
$76,233. 

Add  these  totals  together  and  you  have 
nearly    two    million     dollars,    waiting    for 


So  great  is  the 
market    deniand 
that  Winnipeg   alone,  it  is 
estimated,  sends    out    $20,000 
per  day  for  garden  stuff  over  and 
above  local  supply.      Hundreds  of 
thousands  of  pounds  of   onions   are 
annually  imported  from  United  States, 
Australia    and    Egypt:    carrots    from 
California,   etc.      Manitoba's   need    is 
great  for  all  Mixed  Farming  products. 

somebody  to  come  and  pick  them  out  of  the 
rich  Manitoba  soil.     Plenty  of  it  available. 

There  is  scarcely  an  item  in  the  long 
list  of  food  needs  which  cannot  be  pro- 
duced by  the  Manitoba  farmer,  superior  in 
quality  to  any  of  the  importations  which 
at  present  represent  the  huge  difference 
between  demand  and  total  local  supply. 
Only  about  one -quarter  of  the  25  J^  million 
acres  of  land  surveyed  in  Manitoba  was 
under  crop  this  year.  It  will  be  seen  at 
once,  therefore,  that  Manitoba's  great 
need  is  men  to  go  on  the  land,  and  that 
this  need  is  the  newcomer's  money-making 
opportunity. 

Why  not  let  us  help  you  to  cash  in  on 
it?  Why  not  WRITE  at  once  for  litera- 
ture and  full  information  ?  There  are  so 
many  sound,  common-sense  business  rea- 
sons why  you  should  choose  MANITOBA 
as  the  location  for  your  Western  home 
that  to  go  elseSvhere  before  investigating 
this  Market-Centre  Province  is  to  deal  im- 
fairly   with   yourself   and   your   family. 

WRITE: 


JAS.    HARTNEY,    Manitoba    Government   Office,    77   York   St.,   Toronto,    or    direct  to 

HON.    GEORGE    LAWRENCE 

Minister  of  Agriculture  and  Immigration 
WINNIPEG        -        -        -        MANITOBA 


9,000  bushels  will  be  wheat.  This 
figure,  of  course,  does  not  take  into 
account  the  possible  increase  in  yield 
over  last  on  previously  cultivated  soil. 
In  other  words,  if  the  weather  condi- 
tions are  favorable  this  year,  Alberta 
farmers  will  harvest  a  crop  in  1914 
which  ought  to  mean  $5,000,000  more 
than  any  previous  yield. 

BOOSTING  THE  CENSUS 
'jTKN  million  people  in  ten  years  for 
Western  Canada  is  the  slogan  of 
the  Western  Canada  Colonization  and 
Development  League,  which  will  meet 
in  convention  the  middle  of  this  month 
at  North  Battleford  to  organize  a 
comprehensive  league  devoted  to  the 
interests  and  growth  of  the  region  lying 
between  the  Great  Lakes  and  the 
Pacific  Ocean. 

The  provinces,  the  railways,  the 
cities  and  thousands  of  private  com- 
panies and  individuals  have  been 
advertising  the  resources  and  advant- 
ages of  Western  Canada,  as  represented 
by  their  own  special  district.  Now  it 
is  proposed  that  Western  Canada  as  a 
whole  be  advertised  to  the  world. 
Much  of  the  private  advertising  would, 
of  course,  be  continued;  but  it  is  held 
by  those  promoting  the  league,  that 
these  individual  interests  would  readily 
recognize  the  advantages  of  a  Canada- 
wide  organization  and  would  devote 
to  it  a  part  of  their  regular  advertising 
appropriations. 

Another  advantage  would  be  the 
elimination  of  the  present  more  or  less 
unremunerative  search  for  industries, 
by  the  establishment  of  a  10,000.000 
population  that  would  both  produce 
and  consume. 

The  outcome  of  the  organizing  con- 
vention will  be  worth  watching. 

RESULTS 
A  T  the  end  of  March,  when  the  mixed 
^^  farming  cars  that  have  toured  the 
province  of  Manitoba  this  year  in  the 
interests  of  better  agriculture  were 
dismantled,  their  records  showed  that 
178  meetings  had  been  held,  averaging 
three  hours  each,  and  that  an  a\erage 
attendance  of  91  had  listened  to  the 
lectures  and  demonstrations,  making 
a  total  of  16,178  farmers  benefiting  by 
the  propaganda.  The  Agricultural 
College  is  naturally  pleased  with  this 
increased  showing,  which  indicates  that 
the  farming  public  is  taking  more 
interest  in  agricultural  education,  and 
is  planning  for  a  larger  activity  next 
season. 

The  more  mixed  farming  cars  and  the 
more  scientific  agricultural  schools 
there  are,  the  better  for  the  West.  We 
hope  that  the  day  will  soon  come  when 
all  of  our  provinces  will  possess  prac- 
tical agricultural  schools  such  as  those 
of  Alberta  described  by  Mr.  Rankin 
in  this  issue;  and  when  the  "mi.Ked 
farming  special"  is  as  regular  a  \isitor 
to  everv  rural  town  as  the  mail-carrier. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


43 


The  Pedlars  Pack 

Continued  from  page  38. 

gowns,  plum-pudding  hats,  and 
Garden  of  Eden  evening-dress.  In  one 
of  his  charming  essays  on  woman, 
Schopenhauer  says: — 

"One  need  only  look  at  a  woman's  shape 
to  discover  that  she  is  not  intended  for  either 
too  much  mental  or  too  much  physical  work 
.  It  is  only  the  man  whose  intellect 
is  clouded  by  his  sexual  instinct  that  could 
give  that  stunted,  narrow-shouldered,  broad- 
hipped  and  short-legged  race,  the  name  of 
'the  fair  sex.'  .  .  .  .  "Women  are  direct- 
ly adapted  to  act  as  the  nurses  and  educators 
of  our  early  childhood  for  the  simple  reason 
that  they  themselves  are  childish,  foolish,  and 
short-sighted — in  a  word  are  big  children  all 
their  lives;  something  intermediate  between 
the  child  and  the  man." 

I  don't  suppose  any  woman  to-day 
could  read  this  without  laughter. 
Why,  the  one  thing  a  woman  does 
know  about  a  man  is  that  he  is  and 
always  will  be  her  big  child.  Moreover 
men  get  their  characters,  their  attri- 
butes and  talents  rather  from  the 
mother  than  the  sire,  and  it  was  from 
the  distaff  side  of  the  house  that  the 
Prince  of  Pessimism  received  his  own. 
His  mother  was  a  clever  practical 
woman,  but  without  a  soul.  His 
grandmother  was  first  a  neurotic,  then 
a  lunatic.  Schopenhauer  disliked  his 
mother  because  he  was  too  like  her. 
Had  he  known  her,  he  would  have 
hated  his  grandmother,  and  for  the 
same  reason.  Then  he  grew  to  detest 
all  women.  Marriage,  he  said,  was  a 
debt  contracted  in  youth  and  paid 
for — with  interest — in  old  age.  To 
be  a  philosopher,  it  is  necessary — 
•  Socrates  to  the  contrary — to  be  a 
celibate. 

"WOT'S  THE  GOOD  OF  ANYTHINK? 
NOTHINK  " 

KJO  woman  had  the  bad  taste  to  love 
^  ^  Schopenhauer.  One  poor  drab, 
we  believe,  came  in  his  way  and  paid 
heavily  for  it.  The  last  glimmer  of 
sexual  sentimentality  went  with  her. 
He  climbed  to  a  lone  hill  and  flooded 
I  he  valleys  of  the  world  with  his 
liitterness.  Now  pessimism  is  a  good 
thing  with  which  to  leaven  life.  It  is 
the  olive  in  the  cocktail,  and  never 
has  the  Pedlar  denied  himself  the 
bitter  pleasure  of  stripping  it  to  the 
stone.  But  we  do  not  want  too  many 
olives,  and  old  Schop  was  a  whole 
olive  grove  in  himself.  What  he 
wanted  to  get  him  right  was  a  little 
Sylvia  Pankhurst  and  her  "Army'' 
with  all  the  militant  regiments  at  the 
I  lack  to  help  out. 

One  of  the  things  we  shall  always 
regret  is  that  Schopenhauer  lived  and 
preached  in  the  days  before  the 
Feminist  Movement  arrived  to  cheer 
up  a  dull  world.  For  the  mere  pleasure 
of  giving  old  Schop  a  whirl  we  would 


McCormick  Binders 


H'Wft'g?: 


MANY  years  of  McCormick  binder  ex- 
perience have  brought  out  the  strong 
points  of  the  machine  and  enabled  the  builders  to 
devise  features  that  make  the  machine  still  more 
efficient  and  satisfactory.  There  are  a  number  of  such  fea- 
tures on  McCormick  binders,  features  which  insure  a  com- 
plete harvest  of  tho  grain,  whether  it  be  short,  tall,  standing, 
down,  tangled  or  full  of  green  undergrowth. 

For  Eastern  Canadian  fields  the  McCormick  binder  is 
built  with  a  floating  elevator  which  handles  varying 
quantities  of  grain  with  equal  facility.  The  binder  guards 
are  level  with  the  bottom  of  the  platform  so  that  when  the 
machine  is  tilted  to  cut  closo  to  the  ground  there  is  no  ledge 
to  catch  stones  and  trash  and  push  them  ahead  of  the 
binder  to  clog  the  maahine.  These  are  features  you  will 
appreciate. 

"The  MoCormick  local  agent  will  show  you  the  machine 
and  demonstrate  its  good  features  to  you.  See  him  for 
catalogues  and  full  information,  or,  write  the  nearest 
branch  bouse. 

International  Harvester  Company  of  Canada,  Ltd 

Himilton,  Ont.  LonJoo.  Ont.  Montreal,  Qnc. 

OtUwA,  Ont.  Qncbcc,  P.  Q.  St.  Jobn.  N.  B. 

Tliese  macIiiDes  are  built  at  Hamlltoa,  Oot. 


Beautify  and  Protect  Your  Property 


Peerless  Ornamental  Fencing  accomplishes 
,    two  great  purposes.     It  beautifies  your  premises 
,    by  giving  tlicm  that  symmetrical,  pleasing,  orderly 
^    appearance,  and  it  protects  them  by  furnishing  rigid, 
effective  resistance  against   marauding   animals,    etc. 

Peerless  Ornamental  Fencing 

i.s   made   ol  strong,  stiff,   fialvani/x-d  wire  that  will  ni)t 
sag.      In  addition  to  galvanizing,  every  strand  is  given 
^  a  coating  of  zinc  enamel  paint,  thus  forming  the  best 
^  possible  insurance  against  rust.    Peerless  ornamental 
fence  is  made  in  several  styles.     It's  easy  to  erect 
•'•'•'^k  and  holds  its  shape  for  years. 

1!  ' '  ^k  Stinl  fur  free  cntnloe.  If  intcrestwl.  nok  ntmut  our  .^j  ! ! ! '  ■  "  ' 
{■■■■^^  farm  aiirl  i)oiiflrv  fiiicinir  ABcnls  ncnrlvcvcry-  ^Plliiilllll 
IIIIIIHk   will  ru.     Agents  wamcil  ill  o\v\\   Icrritury.  ^^IIIHHHI 

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiml^J''""'»'''"'"'-"*'""'°"-''"''^^miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 


11^ 


MORE  SONNETS  OF  AN  OFFICE  BOY 

By  S.  E.  KISER.  PRICE,  75  CENTS. 

VANDERHOOF-GUNN  CO.,  Limited.     -     TORONTO,  ONT. 


44 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


mMmalidsport 


WkaJI:fk1io<M(fulmd 


'^Ofall  drinlii  iviiie -is  the 
most  profitable,  of  medicine 
■most  pleasant,  and  of  dainty 
viands  iiiost  /larmless", 

PLUTARCH,   (A.D.,    26) 


I  v. 


Good  HealthTo  All 

Such  ailments  as  General  Debility,  Loss  of 
appetite.  Sleeplessness,  Extreme  Nervous- 
ness, Bad  Colds,  Brain-fag,  Anemia, 
Chlorosis,  La  Grippe,  Dyspepsia,  Lassitude, 
Exhaustion,  Etc.,  can  be  rapidly  dispelled 
by  a  few  generous  glasses  of  Wilson's 
Invalids'  Port  (a  la  Quina  du  Perou). 

Dr.  R.  Lawrence,  the  eminent  Plij'sician, 

says: 

"I  had  recent  occasion  to  prescribe  Wilson 's 
Invalids'  Port  to  a  patient  who  had  been 
suffering  from  a  severe  attack  of  La  Grippe, 
with  great  satisfaction  to  myself,  and  to 
the  patient  who  made  a  rapid  recovery.'" 


/c-  ^ca 


-iS'i^/t-^:^**-^* 


237M 


The  Best  of  all  Remedies  for  Children. 

From  Mr.  H.  FivEHEii,  Norway  Home,  Piclon,  Nova  Scotia:— 

"I  am  writing  to  you  in  praise  of  your  Gripe  Water  as  a    tonic.      Mj  »"'^ 

"  girl  wlio  is  now  12  montlis  old  has  thrived  on  it  wonderfully.  J.\  e  have  «'^en  it  to  nor 

"almost  since  she  was  horn.      WOODWARD'S    OKIPE    WATER   h?;%P™7^  ''l«^i}l'J' 

"  of  all  remedies  we  have  tried.    We  would  not  be  without  it.    Trusting  Jh^at  our  experience 

'will  decide  others  to  test  this  most  valuable  medicine,  I  am,   yours  fanniuliy.         

"  H  EvERED,  Gardener  to  Lord  Strathoona,  High  Commissioner  of  Canada. 

WOODWARD'S  GRIPE  WATER 

Quickly  relieves  the  pain  and  distress  caused  by  the  numerous  lamiliar 
"  ailments  of  childhood. 

INVALUABLE     DURING     TEETHING. 
For  three  generations  it  has  nourished  and  strengthened  infant  vitality. 
It  contains  no  preparation  of  Morphia,  Opium,  or  other  harmful  drug,  and  has  behind  it 
long  record  of  Medical  Approval. 
Of  any  Druggists.         Be  sure  it's   WOODWARD'S 


have  joined  the  militant  brigade  our- 
self  and  with  a  shillelagh  have  cracked 
that  exceedingly  hard  nut  of  his. 

His  teaching  was  new  to  the  world 
in  his  time,  and  though  people  shud- 
dered when  he  struck  his  first  gloomy 
prelude,  they  sat  out  the  terrible 
oratorio  of  despair  that  floated  out  and 
assailed  their  ears.  Such  music  must 
have  been  created  in  the  infernal 
regions.  No  good  in  anything.  Life 
a  mistake.  Death  the  revenge  of  an 
Immortal  on  the  Mortal.  When  you 
get  what  you  desire,  you  find  it  worth- 
less; when  things  are  irretrievably 
gone,  we  value  them.  Existence  means 
misery.  Love  is  a  sexual  instinct: 
Human  life  is  a  horrible  mistake. 

All  this  Schopenhauer  taught  and  he 
believed  every  word  of  it.  By  ever)' 
law  of  health  and  well-being  he  should 
have  been  a  martyr  to  indigestion. 
Instead  he  lived  to  be  seventy-three, 
and  died  alone  on  a  sofa  with  his  face 
to  the  wall.  His  countenance  was 
peaceful,  only,  the  little  bitter  smile 
had  deepened.  Perhaps  he  had  learned 
that  he  was  right  and  that  human  life 
was  but  a  pathetic  mistake  after  all. 
Perhaps  when  he  was  laughing  a  little 
loo  bitterly  at  Life,  Death  smote  him — 
But  for  all  his  wretched  philosophy 
he  was  great. 

"Bury  me  anywhere,"  he  wrote, 
"they  will  find  me."  The  best  we  can 
wish  him  for  his  sins  is  that  he  is  sitting 
between  Mrs.  Baker  Eddy  and  Mrs. 
Carrie  Nation  in  the  Heavenly  Choir. 

THE  DECAY  OF  PROCESSIONS 

JACK-IN-THE-GREEN  has  depart- 
J  ed  from  old  England  forever,  and 
we  have  not  heard  of  his  arrival  in 
Canada.  For  the  information  of  those 
who  have  never  heard  of  him,  we  may 
state  that  he  was  a  May  person  of 
exceeding  mystery  who  frolicked  about 
inside  a  large  extinguisher  of  green 
leaves.  He  was  accompanied  by  the 
Queen  of  the  May  and  supported  by  a 
company  of  fanciful  characters,  and 
he  used  to  dance  on  the  green  of  those 
enchanting  villages  that  lie  deep  in  the 
heart  of  ever>'  English  Shire.  In 
reality  Jack-in-the-green  was  a  chimney 
sweep.  The  legend  ran  that  a  certain 
Mrs.  Montagu,  in  long  past  times, 
lost  her  little  bo3%  and  found  him  again 
on  a  May  Day  in  the  company  of  some 
black  but  jolly  sweeps.  In  memor\'  of 
this  event  the  sweeps  of  London 
instituted  the  festival  and  procession 
of  Jack  and  his  friends. 

Another  old  procession  which  has 
fallen  away  is  that  of  the  "Boy  Bishop" 
who  was  elected  as  patron  of  boys  for 
three  weeks  in  December.  Henry 
VIII.  cut  off  his  head,  however,  in 
company  with  those  of  his  wives,  and 
though  the  festival  and  procession  of 
boys  lingered  in  the  quainter  rural 
English  districts,  it  gradually  withered 
away.'  i^The  Feast  of  the  Fools  and  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY! 


45 


Feast  of  the  Ass  have  also  passed  away. 
In  the  latter  procession  were  the 
prophets,  David  and  others.  The  Ass 
— originally  Balaam's — was  a  wooden 
fellow  inside  of  which  was  enclosed  a 
man  who  remonstrated  when  Balaam 
drove  his  great  spurs  against  the 
wooden  sides. 

The  feast  of  Alleluia  arose  from  the 
hymn  which  declares  that — 

Alleluia  cannot  always 
Be  our  song  while  here  below.  ' 

On  the  Saturday  preceding  Sep- 
tuagesima  the  choir  boys  after  service 
carried  a  bier  supposed  to  contain  the 
dead  Alleluia.  They  buried  the  lady 
and  resurrected  her  on  Easter  Eve. 
But  she  has  been  interred  for  a  long 
time. 

By  the  way,  it  just  strikes  us  that 
the  above  story  will  get  us  out  of  a 
tangle.  A  lady  reader  of  CANADA 
MONTHLY  wrote  to  the  Pedlar  some 
time  ago  asking  that  peripatetic  (dis- 
ciple of  Aristotle)  to  name  a  young 
sufTragette,  who  had  just  arrived  from 
Noman's  land.  Why  not  Alleluia  ? 
Alleluia  Robinson — pretty  and  suit- 
able, we  call  it. 

To  return  for  a  moment  to  our 
processions,  there  is  yet  another 
ancient  one  which  has  departed  but 
left  its  ghost  to  wander  about  the 
corridors  of  St.  Stephens.  Still,  every 
night  when  the  House  of  Commons 
adjourns,  is  heard  the  strange  cry  of 
"Who  goes  Home  ?"  In  the  days 
when  London  was  infested  by  footpads 
it  was  the  custom  of  all  those  members 
whose  roads  lay  in  the  same  direction 
as  his  to  accompany  Mr.  Speaker  to  his 
house,  guarding  him  on  his  dangerous 
path  from  the  attacks  of  political 
enemies  and  public  highway-men. 
"Who  goes  home  with  Mr.  Speaker  .''" 
was  the  meaning  of  the  inquiry.  In 
these  days  when  that  right  honourable 
gentleman  steps  into  his  brougham, 
or  motor,  and  Cabinet  Ministers  depart 
by  train,  car,  or  bus,  the  cry  is  only 
a  charming  echo  of  the  past,  and  one 
of  those  many  survivals  which  a 
people  with  more  than  a  thousand 
years  of  authentic  and  unbroken 
history  would  not  willingly  let  die. 

There  are  indeed  many  ghosts  wan- 
dering about  London  streets — ghosts 
of  old  processions,  gay  or  grisly;  ghosts 
flitting  along  Pariiamentary  corridors; 
old  City  ghosts  which  haunt  Thread- 
needle  street  and  Mincing  Lane;  liter- 
ary ghosts  that  pad  stealthily  up  and 
down  Fleet  Street,  and  lurk  in  arch- 
ways and  dark  lanes;  and  those  sad 
living  ghosts  of  men  and  women  that 
lie  wounded  and  bruised  in  the  battle 
of  life,  which  haunt  the  Embankment, 
pausing  in  their  monotonous  walk  to 
listen  to  Big  Ben,  himself  a  ghost,  up 
there  in  thepog,  call  out  the  solemn 
hours. 


Your  Convenience 

Is  the  foundation  principle  of  the 

'■^  '■■ — iOKWiWiiiao 


Not    the    manufacturer's    convenience,    but    the    buyer's 
convenience;  not  our  convenience,  but  TOURS. 

Take,  for  example,  one  feature — the  Interchangeable 
Carriages  and  Platens.  On  the  average  typewriter  there 
is  no  changing  of  platens  and  the  changing  of  the  carriage  is 
almost  a  job  for  a  mechanic.  On  the  Smith  Premier  Type- 
writer either  is  as  quick  and  simple  as  changing  your  hat. 
This  means  that  the  operator  can  get  out  a  rush  telegram  or 
change  in  a  second  to  any  other  work  without  disturbing 
what  she  has  already  done. 

Then  there  is  the  tilting  platen,  for  ease  in  making  corrections; 
the  one  stroke,  and  one  stroke  only,  in  printing  every  char- 
acter; and  a  dozen  other  special  Smith  Premier  features. 
All  of  these   mean    the   convenience   of 
your  operator — in    other   words,   more 
efficient  service   for  YOU. 


We  have  an  illustrated  booklet  on  the 
Smith  Premier  special  features  which  we 
shall  be  glad  to  send  on  your  request. 


Smith  Premier  Department 

Remington 

Typewriter  Company 

(Limited) 

Toronto.     Ontario, 

144  Bay  Street. 

Offices  in  Ottawa.  Montreal,  Winnipe;!,  Calgary,  Vancouver, 


Linking  Up  the  West 

Continued  from  page  31. 

•^'Pcgger,  then  addressed  the  assem- 
blage and  suggested  that  as  the  first 
spike  in  the  new  railway  had  been 
driven  by  the  Countess  of  Duflferin,  it 
would  be  a  graceful  act  to  allow  the 
ladies  the  honor  of  performing  a 
similar  operation  on  the  last  one. 
Senator  Sutherland  suggested  that  all 
the  ladies  present  might  share  in  the 
ceremony,  and  to  this  assent  was 
given.     Mrs.  W.   H.   Lyon  and   Mrs. 


George  Brown  were  handed  hammers 
and  the  driving  was  l)egun.  Other 
ladies  followed  in  rapid  succession, 
their  efforts  being  happily  commented 
on  by  a  Hibernian  navvy, named  Dennis 
Murphy,  who  suggested  that  they 
"punch  the  stulhn'  out  av  the  sphike," 
and  gallantly  offered  to  do  it  for  them. 
Those  who  took  part  in  the  spike- 
driving  in  addition  to  the  two  ladies 
mentioned  were:  Mrs.  W.  F.  Alloway, 
the  Misses  Spencer,  Miss  Blanchard, 
Misses  Nixon,  Miss  Bannatyne,  Miss 
More,  Miss  Sutherland,  all  of  Winni- 


46 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


^       y 


>^ 


r%-K 


r 


\  \ 

STRENGTH  to  resist  time  and  wear  is  built  into  every 
Firestone  Tire  as  the  years  build  strength  into  a  tree.  Like 
rings  in  the  heart  of  the  oak,  the  layers  of  Firestone  rubber-hlled 
fabric  are  compactly  merged  into  one  strong,  rugged  unit. 

It  requires  no  technical  knowledge  to  see  the  value  of  this 
time  proved,  natural  method— the  layer  built,  double-cured 
process,  which  admits  of  minute  and  multiplied  inspection. 

The  peculiar  quality  of  Firestone  Rubber  is  its  strength 
and  resiliency.  There  is  no  more  stubborn  hold  than  the 
gripping  endurance  of  the  Firestone  Non-Skid  Tread.  Its 
added  volume  indicates,  too,  the  powerful  body  behind  it.  It 
requires  Firestone  inbuilt  strength  to  support  the  massive  bulk 
of  the  Firestone  Non-Skid  tread. 

Let  these  sturdy,  long-life  Firestones  teach  you  how  far  tire  service 
has  advanced.  Use  them  on  Firestone  Rims,  with  Firestone  Red  Inner 
Tnbes  to  enioy  a  new  and  higher  degree  of  motoring  comfort  confi- 
dence and  convenience,  with  the  economy  oi-Most  Miles  per  Dollar. 

Firestone  Tire  and  Rubber  Co.,  Akron,  Ohio-All  Large  Cities 

r>rt»l.uiic         -.^„,„-ea'«Lar,«»£*c/a..i-e  Tire  and RxmMahtr^ 


\ 


;'^Wr^ 


•) 


)k 


''W 


% 


*i 


\ 


:>:. 

-  .< . 


\^R' 


iici: 


ES  AliD  RIMS 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


47 


I 


peg;  Mrs.  Percy  of  London,  England; 
Mrs.  Bradley,  Mrs.  Lellar,  Miss  Codd, 
of  Emerson;  Mrs.  McNabb,  of  Glen- 
garry, Ontario,  and  Mrs.  Winn,  Mrs. 
Robert  Scott,  and  Miss  Sullivant  of 
the  Roseau. 

The  dinner  of  the  occasion  was 
served  at  the  camp  of  the  contractors, 
ten  miles  north  of  the  Roseau  River, 
and  there  were  the  usual  toasts. 
United  States  Consul  Taylor,  who, 
during  the  long  period  of  his  residence 
in  Western  Canada,  never  missed  an 
opportunity  to  reiterate  his  faith  in 
the  fertile  prairies  and  their  ability  to 
sustain  a  large  population,  made  a 
characteristic  speech.  According  to 
his  custom,  he  spoke  of  the  vast  extent 
of  territory  lying  to  the  west  of  Win- 
nipeg, through  all  of  which  lines  of 
railway  would  have  to  be  built  in  the 
coming  years.  He  forecast  the  growth 
of  great  oities  and  hundreds  of  towns 
and  villages  on  the  plains,  and  sug- 
gested that  the  time  would  come  when 
the  wheat  of  Manitoba  and  North 
West  Territories  would  be  an  important 
factor  on  the  British  market.  He  said 
the  same  things  in  public  meetings 
scores  of  times  in  Winnipeg  and  else- 
where, and  furnished  every  evidence  of 
the  depth  of  his  faith  at  a  time  when 
the  number  of  those  who  saw  what 
the  future  had  in  store  for  Western 
Canada  was  exceedingly  small.  Con- 
sul Taylor  proposed  the  toast  to  the 
Queen,  responded  to  the  toast  to  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  and 
contributed  largely,  as  he  always  did 
at  public  gatherings,  to  the  success  of 
the  party.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
banquet  there  was  much  cheering. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon 
the  train  started  for  Winnipeg,  the 
passenger  list  being  considerably 
augmented  by  the  addition  of  a  number 
of  residents  of  Emerson.  Among  these, 
on  the  train  from  the  latter  town,  were 
Messrs.  Traill,  Baldwin,  Douglas, 
Stiles,  Gamey,  Killer,  and  Bradley. 
The  run  into  Winnipeg  was  made  in 
one  hour  and  fifty-five  minutes,  and  a 
second  train  carried  south  those  who 
had  come  from  Emerson  to  share  in 
the  festivities. 

Following  the  driving  of  the  last 
spike  in  this  line  on  Tuesday,  December 
3,  1878,  the  first  regular  train  from  St. 
Paul  arrived  in  St.  Boniface  on  Satur- 
day night,  December  9,  shortly  after 
eleven  o'clock.  The  train  consisted 
of  a  locomotive,  several  flat  cars,  two 
cabooses,  and  one  passenger  day  coach, 
an  enumeration  which  brings  a  smile 
to  the  faces  of  the  railway  passenger 
agents  who  know  most  about  the 
trains  de  luxe  which  are  now  operated 
through  the  same  territory.  There 
were  twenty  passengers  on  the  train, 
chiefly  settlers  from  eastern  Canada, 
bound  for  points  in  the  West.  The 
first  regular  departure  was  made  on 


Deering  New  Ideal 

A  Money  Saving  Binder 


THESE  Deering  binder  features  appeal 
to  the  farmer.  The  elevator,  open  at 
the  rear,  delivers  the  grain  properly  to  the  bind- 
ing attachment.  Because  the  elevator  projects 
ahead  of  the  knife  it  delivers  grain  to  the  binder  deck 
straight.  A  third  packer  reaches  up  close  to  the  top  of  the 
elevator  and  delivers  the  grain  to  the  other  two  packers.  A 
third  discharge  arm  keeps  the  bound  sheaves  free  from  un- 
bound grain. 

Tlie  T-shaped  cutter  bar  ie  almost  level  with  the  bottom 
of  the  platform  and  allows  the  machine  to  be  tilted  close  to 
the  ground  to  pick  up  down  and  tangled  grain  without 
pushing  trash  in  front  of  the  knife.  Either  smooth  sectioa 
or  serrated  knives  can  be  used.  The  Deering  kuotter 
surely  needs  no  recommendation. 

The  Deering  local  agent  will  show  why  Deering  New 
Ideal  binders  are  the  standard  of  binder  construction.  See 
him,  or,  write  to  the  nearest  branch  house  for  a  catalogue. 


International  Harvester  Company  of  Canada,  Ltd 


Huilloo,  Ont,  LodJoi,  Ont.  Monlrnl,  Qnt. 

OtUwi.  Ont.  QxbK.  P.  Q.  Si.  JoIu.  N.  B. 

TlieM  macbinct  are  built  at  HamiltoD,  Ont. 


Monday  morning,  December  11,  at 
four  in  the  morning.  It  was  necessary 
to  leave  Winnipeg  early,  in  order  that 
passengers  might  catch  the  St.  Paul 
and  Pacific  train  atCrookston,  Minne- 
sota, at  half-past  five  that  afternoon. 

In  1878  standard  time  had  not  been 
adopted,  and  the  difference  in  time 
between  Winnipeg  and  St.  Paul  was 
seventeen  minutes.  The  running  time 
from  Winnipeg  to  St.  Paul  was  thirty 
hours  and  forty-two  minutes,  now  reduc- 
ed to  fourteen  hours  and  ten  minutes. 
The  running  time  from  Winnipeg  to 
Toronto  was  seventy-three  hours  and 
fifteen  minutes,  now  reduced  to  thirty- 
nine  hours  and  thirty-five  minutes, 
and  the  running  time  to  Mon- 
treal was  eighty-nine  hours  and 
thirty  minutes,  now  reduced  to  forty- 
seven  hours  and  twenty-five  minutes. 

The  time  made  in  these  days  appears 
very  slow  to  the  modern  passenger 
agent,  but  a  railway,  even  if  poorly 
equipped  for  business,  is  so  great  an 
improvement  on  the  best  system  of 
stages  drawn  by  horses  that  the  wel- 
come extended  to  the  new  method  of 


ALWAYS  INSIST  ON 
AN  "A.  A." 


(^^(k(j^  A^iH^tf^^t^U^ 


Thi*  pen  has  gained  universal  popu- 
larity because  of  two  exclusive  features. 
One  i>  B  unigur  eclf-fillliiK  device  «'hlch  enabltt 
you  to  refill  the  pen  from  any  inkstand  or  '.mot- 
tle aimply  by  twisting  the  button.  The  other 
li  the  eiquisite  gold  pen  point,  which  hu  tbs 
Bezibility  of  a  fine  steel  point,  and  the  dun- 
bUity  of  •  hundred. 

rA«  "il.il."  it  to  bt  hcd  in  M  ttt/ltt  Jnm 

$ljDO  and  tip. 

Th*  "AJi."  it  tbiolulrlu  «u«r«n(fW  fn 

*vtTt  particular. 

Aak  your  druggist,  stationer  oc  Jew- 
tiler,  or  write  for  our  new  catalogt  • 
•howlng  our  complete  line  d  adf. 
flllcra,  middle  Joint  and  lower  Joint 
fountslo  pciu. 

Arthur  A.  Waterman  &Co., 
S2  Thames  St..    New  York  City 

Not  connected  with 
The  L.  E.  Waterman  Co. 


48 


i&Co. 


"S--^ 


"There's 
My  Motor" 


"The  man  who  built 
it  sure  knew  just 
what  I  wanted — size, 
/    price  and  everything 
else.      No  more  rowing 
forme.  I'm  going  to  have 
some  real  fun  out  of  my 
rowboat.    And  I'm  going  in 
and  get  that  motor  right  now, 
too.    Then  when  the  next  good 
day  comes  along  I'll  be  ready." 

Wisconsin 

The  one  absolutely  and  completely 
efficient  motor  in  its  class.  Simple — 
dependable — economical — powerful — 
strong.  Light — carries  grip-fashion. 
Instantly  adjustable  to  any  rowboat. 
A  twist  of  the  wheel  starts  it.  You  get 
any  speed — slow,  for  trolling,  or  nine 
miles  an  hour  if  you're  in  a  hurry. 
Rudder  Steering — con- 
^  stant  control  of  the  boat, 

even  when  motor  's 
still.  High  Tension 
[Magneto  Ignition 
— never  a  miss. 
A  real  motor — - 
not  a  make- 
shift.   Made  by  the 
^Sff^  same  men  who  build 
the  long-famous  Wis- 
consin Valveless  Marine 
Engine. 

Send  for  free  cataiog 
and  get  the  facts 

Wisconsin  Machinery  & 

Manufacturing  Co. 
16M  Canal  St.,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 


AH  "ARLINGTON  COLLARS"  are  good, 
but  our  CHALLENGE  BRAND  is  the  best 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

transportation  in  Manitoba  is  readily 
understood.  With  the  advent  of  the 
railway,  there  was  also  the  promise  of 
the  improved  facilities  which  are  pro- 
vided for  the  traveller  of  the  present 
day.  The  rate  from  St.  Boniface  to 
Emerson  at  that  time  was  $3.25,  as 
compared  with  $1.90  at  the  present 
time,  and  the  rate  from  St.  Boniface  to 
St.  Paul  was  $23.50,  as  compared  with 
$10.00  at  the  present  time.  The 
reduction  in  this  passenger  rate  is 
larger  than  the  general  public  sup- 
poses. 

Although  the  terminus  of  the  new 
line  was  in  Canada,  much  interest  in 
the  extension  of  the  railway  into 
Manitoba  was  manifested  in  St.  Paul, 
and  the  president  of  the  Chamber  of 
Commerce  in  that  city  was  instructed 
to  wire  congratulations  to  the  mayor 
and  the  city  council  of  Winnipeg. 
The  congratulatory  telegrams  which 
were  interchanged  at  the  time  were  as 
follows : — 

St.   Paul,   December  2,   1878. 
The  Hon.  the  Mayor  and  the  City  Council  of 
Winnipeg: — 

The  Chambers  of  Commerce  of  this  city 
instruct  me  to  tender  to  you  and  the  citizens 
of  Winnipeg  their  respectful  congratulations 
that  the  two  cities  are  at  length  connected  by 
iron  bands,  and  to  express  their  desire  that 
intimate  social  and  business  relations  will  be 
the  result. 

Respectfully, 
Henry  F.  Sibler,  President. 

Winnipeg,  December  5th,  1878. 
Henry    F.    Sibley,    President,    Chambers    of 

Commerce,  St.  Paul,  Minn. 

Absence  from  town  prevented  sooner 
response  to  your  congratulatory  telegram. 
The  council  and  citizens  of^Winnipeg  heartily 
reciprocate  the  friendly  sentiments  therein 
expressed  and  hope  to  have  the  opportunity 
soon  of  exchanging,  personally,  good  wishes 
and  good  offices  with  your  people. 

Thos.  Scott,  (Mayor.) 

In  connection  with  the  opening  of 
the  new  line,  the  Manitoba  Free  Press, 
from  the  files  of  which  a  portion  of  the 
information  for  this  brief  article  has 
been  secured,  contained  the  following 
item : — 

On  the  train  carrying  the  excursionists 
from  St.  Boniface  to  the  Roseau  on  Tuesday 
morning  was  a  large  shipment  of  goods,  con- 
signed by  W.  H.  Lyon,  wholesale  merchant, 
to  J.  Washington,  who  is  about  to  open  a 
store  at  the  Roseau.  It  is  confidently  hoped 
that  this  is  but  the  beginning  of  a  large  trade 
to  be  supplied  by  our  merchants  to  country 
dealers. 

The  fruition  of  the  faith,  which 
appears  to  have  been  somewhat  faint 
and  doubtful,  is  now  to  be  seen  in  the 
wholesale  district  of  Winnipeg,  with 
its  large  and  permanent  warehouses, 
and  in  the  laden  freight  trains  which 
leave  daily  on  the  various  lines  radiat- 
ing from  the  city. 

The  opening  of  this  railway  for 
freight  and  passenger  business  at  the 
close  of  1878  marked  the  practical 
termination  of  traffic  on  routes  which 
old  timers  of  Western  Canada  remem- 
ber with  considerable  interest. 

The  method  of  entry  into  Winnipeg 


Let  the 

Knox  Cooks 

send  you  enough 


W-         SPARKLING        ^ 

OELATIIiffi 

to  make  six  plates 
of  Cherry  Sponge 

1  ublespoonful  Knoi  Spi.:.:  -  'itine. 
J^'cup  cold  water.  1  cup  a.c  ■  i:co 
Juice  of  one  lemon.  H  cup  a^gar. 

13^icup3  cherries.  ..Whites  of  two  c  t^s. 
Soak  'gelatine  in  the  cold  water  5  minutes 
and  dissolve  in  the  hot  cherry  juice.  Add 
Cherries  (stoned  and  cut  in  halves)  and  lemon 
juice.  When  jelly  is  cold  and  beginning  u> 
set ,  add  'whites  of  two  eggs  beaten  until  stiff. 
Mold  andl'when  ready  to  serve  turn  on  to 
serving  dish  and  garnish  with  whipped  cream, 
putting'chopped  cherries  over  the  top. 

NOTE:      This    same   recipe    may   be   used 
with  other  canned  fruits. 

THIS  will  be  our  treat  to  you  for 
the  month  of  May.  You  will  be 
so  delighted  you  will  always  have 
Knox  Gelatine  in  your  home. 

Send    us    yoiu"   grocer's   name,   enclosing 
2-3ent  stamp  and  we  will  send  you  the  Kno 
Gelatine. 

We  want  every  reader  of  this  publication 
to  know  how  to  use  KNOX  GELATINE  for 
all  kinds  of  Desserts.  Jellies.  Puddings.  Ice 
Creams.  Sherbets.  Salads  and  Candies. 


We  will  send 
you,  free,  an  illus- 
trated book  of 
recipes  with  the 
Gelatine. 

Chas  B.KnozCo. 

303  Knox  Ave. 
Johnstown.  N.  Y. 
Branch  Factory  : 

Montreal,  Can. 


wpAHHI  l\f, 


I  ^dfikSonion 


MARK  YOUR  LINEN  WITH  CASH'S 
WO  VEIN  NAME-TAPES 

Your  full  name  in  fast  color  thread  can  be  woven  into  fine  white 
cambrictape.  $2.00  for  12  dozen,  $1.25  for  6  doz.,  85c  for  3 
doz.  These  markings  more  than  save  their  cost  by  preventing 
laundry  losses.  Required  bv  schools  and  colleges.  They  make 
a  dainty,  individual  gift.  Orders  filled  in  a  week  througl. 
your  dealer,  or  write  for  samples  and  order  blanks,  direct  to 
J.  &  J.   CASH.  Ltd., 301  St.  James  St..  Montreal,  Can. 


"  name6 


rimoe  «*»< 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


49 


prior  to  the  date  mentioned  had  been 
by  the  well  known  Dawson  route, 
overland  from  Port  Arthur,  or  by  way 
of  the  Red  River  from  Moorhead, 
Minnesota,  which  was  then  the  ter- 
minus of  the  railway.  During  the 
winter  season,  passengers  from  Moor- 
head drove  by  stage  from  that  point 
to  Winnipeg.  Thousands  of  people 
had  found  their  way  into  Western 
Canada  by  these  routes  in  the  earlier 
years,  and  it  is  possible  that,  in  years 
to  come,  through  the  development  of 
water  transportation,  portions  of  the 
old  routes  may  be  largely  used  again. 
With  the  advent  of  the  railroad,  how- 
ever, the  former  method  of  trans- 
portation ceased,  and  the  West  entered 
on  a  new  and  infinitely  greater  era. 

It  is  still  sometimes  thought  by  some 
residents  of  Canada  that  it  was  the 
completion  of  the  main  line  of  the 
Canadian  Pacific  eastward  which  gave 
to  the  West  its  first  connection  with 
the  outside  world.  The  final  com- 
pletion of  that  great  road  between 
Winnipeg  and  Montreal  was  an  event 
of  the  first  importance,  not  only  in  the 
history  of  the  West,  but  in  the  develop- 
ment of  all  Canada,  but  Western 
Canada  owes  its  first  railway  conmmui- 
cation  with  the  world  outside  largely 
to  the  construction  of  the  line  through 
the  United  States  to  the  international 
boundary. 

It  may  also  interest  some  to  know 
that  the  American  contractors,  who 
laid  the  steel  to  the  boundary,  by 
special  arrangement  crossed  the  line 
and  continued  their  work  until  they 
met  the  gangs  who  were  engaged  in 
the  same  work  from  the  Winnipeg  end. 
This  arrangement  was  made  owing  to 
the  fact  that  when  the  American  con- 
tractors, who  were  engaged  in  the 
building  of  the  line  of  the  St.  Paul, 
Minneapolis  and  Northern  Railway, 
had  reached  the  boundary,  there  was 
still  a  stretch  of  twenty-five  miles  of 
steel  to  lay  on  the  Canadian  side. 
Winter  was  coming  on  rapidly,  and 
the  completion  of  the  enterprise  was 
earnestly  desired.  The  Americans 
were  therefore  engaged  to  assist  on 
the  last  twenty-five  miles  and  took 
part  in  the  final  operations. 

Although  connection  between  Win- 
nipeg and  Eastern  Canada,  over  the 
main  line  of  the  Canadian  Pacific, 
was  not  effected  for  several  years  after 
the  completion  of  the  line  to  St.  Paul, 
work  had  been  in  progress  on  this 
great  project. 

Between  1874  and  1878,  construction 
was  being  carried  forward  between 
East  Selkirk  and  Fort  William,  and 
large  quantities  of  rails  were  being 
brought  down  the  Red  River  on 
barges  and  unloaded  on  the  east  side, 
at  St.  Boniface  and  East  Kildonan. 
In  1876  a  locomotive,  with  a  number 
of   flat   cars   and   a   conductor's   van. 


dS  UdCXQ 


i 


SP-VEN  vestal  virgins  tended 
the    ever-burning    sacred 
flame  of  Vesta  in  ancient 
Rome. 

Absolute  cleanliness  was  one  of 
their  religious  obligations.  Their 
house,  which  was  maintained  by 
the  State,  contained  baths  of 
surpassing  beauty  and  luxury. 

A  most  important  feature  of 
the  toilet, as  well  as  of  every  great 
Roman  household,  was  the  use 
of  fine  oils — apparently  palm 
and  olive. 


The  utter  luxury  of  the  Rom'  n 
bath  is  to-day  enjoyed  by  the 
more  than  two  million  women 
who  use  Palmoli\e  Soap. 

In  this  delightful  form,  palm  and 
olive  oils  are  most  perfectly  blended. 

Those  who  use  Palmoli\e  daily  find 
there  is  nothing  else  quite  like  it  for 
cleansing,  soothing  and  nourishing  even 
the  tenderest  skin.  It  leaves  the  skin 
smooth,  firm  and  white  and  protected 
against  irritation. 

Palm  and  Olive  Oils  give  Palmolive 
its  delicatecolor.  Naught  else  is  needed. 
The  natural  delightful  fragrance  is  a 
veritable  breath  from  the  Orient. 
And  the  price  is  only  15c  a  cake. 


Palmolive 

In  hard  water  or  soft,  hot  water  or  cold,  Palmolive  lathers  freely  and  quiclcly. 
It  imparts  a  smooth,  clear  complexion,  and  adds  that  touch  of  charm  unknown 
to  any  other  soap.     It  is  very  hard— does  not  waste. 

Palmolive   Cream 


Palmolive  Shampoo  ir.^S;;<L"ii^.\Si 

tlie  hair  lustrous  and  healthy,  and  is  excellent  for 
the  scalp.  It  rinses  out  easily  and  leaves  the 
hair  soft  and  tractable.    Price  50  cents. 

N.B. — If  you  cannot  get  Palmolive  Cream  or 
Shampoo  off  your  local  dealer,  a  full-size  package 
of  either  will  be  mailed  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price. 

B.  J.  Johnson  Soap  Co.,  Ltd. 

166-167  George  Street.  Toronto,  Ont. 

American  Addres?*:    B.  J.Johnson  Soap  Co.,  Inc. 

Milwaukee,  Wis.  (.TJ 


cW-atiw's  tlie  pun-H  ot  tfu-  nkiu  ami 
atMa  A  il«lii[hlfiil  toiicli  afltT  tli>-  tisc 
of  Paliuollva  8oiip.     Trict.-  JO  leutrt. 


.9tvV>fOV\Nl^       IPALMOUVE 


were  received  in  llie  same  way.  This 
locomotive,  the  first  to  be  delivered 
in  the  country,  was  known  as  the 
Countess  of  DuiTerin.  It  was  used 
in  forwarding  material  for  the  con- 
struction of  the  line  from  St.  Boniface 
southward ,  and  now  stands  in  the  C .  P.  R. 
park.  The  Joseph  Whitehead,  the  second 
locomotive  in  the  country,  was  brought 
north  in  the  same  way,  and  was 
employed  east  of  Winnipeg.  Mr. 
Whitehead  himself  built  the  dump  of 
the  line  from  St.  Boniface  to  Emerson 
in  1875,  and  was  later  employed  on  a 
large  contract  on  the  main  line  of  the 
Canadian  Pacific  east  of  the  city. 
The   branch    line   of  the   Canadian 


Pacific,  from  St.  Boniface  to  East 
Selkirk,  was  constructed  for  the  purpose 
of  getting  material  to  the  main  line. 
At  that  period,  as  is  well  known,  it 
was  the  intention  that  the  main  line 
should  not  come  into  Winnipeg,  but 
that  the  Red  River  should  be  crossed 
at  a  point  where  West  Selkirk  is  now 
located.  With  this  idea  in  view,  track 
was  laid  to  the  river  to  a  point  known 
as  Colwell's  Landing,  and  a  round 
house  was  erected  at  East  Selkirk, 
which  has  not  been  used  for  many 
years  by  the  railway  company,  except 
as  an  occasional  detention  house  for 
certain  classes  of  European  immi- 
grants. 


50 


ENGAGEMENT  RINGS 

.Diamonds  of  high  quality  and  brilliance,  in 
/finely  proportioned  lik  gold  platinum  tipped 
j/eettingB.    They  are  the  best  value  obtainable. 


Q>  ^  (p 


$26.00 


S40  00 


SSO.OO 


00  c 


SB. 00 


$8.00 


$7.00 


WEDDING  RINGS 

Our  rings  are  perfect  in  form  and  color.  They 
are  made  of  18k  gold  without  joints  and 
hardened  by  a  special  process,  ensuring  the 
hardest  wearing  quality. 

Size  card  sent  to  any  address. 

Correspondence  solicited. 

JOHN  S.  BARNARD 

194  Dundas  Street,  London,  Canada. 


Every  tnan&ion  or  cottage 
has  need  for  a  lightweight 


PEERLESS 


"  FOLDING 
TABLE— 

The  convenience  and  service  of  these  practica 
and  beautiful  tables  can  best  be  appreciated  by 
I  heir  use.  Splendid  for  games,  for  sewing,  read- 
ing or  lunching.  For  house,  verandah  or  lawn. 
Lightweight  Peerless  Folding  Tables  are  noted 
for  their  great  strength  and  durability.  The 
steel  automatic  braces  prevent  wobbling.  Absolutely 
staunch  and  rigid.  Can  be  folded  in  a  moment  and  set 
aside.  ^  No  home  should  be  without  one 
Made  in  various  sizes — round  and  square — green  felt, 
leatherette  or  polished  natural  wood  top.  A  table  for 
every  purpose. 

Ask  your  dealer,  also  write  for  illustrated  catalog  "M" 

and  let  us  show  you  the  many  real  uses  to  which  these 

tables  can  be  put.    \Vrite  now. 

HOURD  &  COMPANY,  Limited 

Sol«  Licensees  and  Manufacttirers, 
London      -----      Ontario 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

Reminiscences   of   a 

Country  Sunday 

School 

i  BY  MARY  LESLIE    ES-..  1^ 

THIS  is  iiow  it  began.  Some 
years  before  there  had  been  a 
Sunday  School,  managed  by 
members  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, held  at  a  school  house  in  the 
neighborhood,  but  all  interested  in  it 
had  grown  up,  or  moved  away,  and  my 
sister  thought  it  a  pity  that  a  few 
children  should  not  be  gathered  to- 
gether in  our  house  and  taught  some  of 
those  sublime  truths  of  Holy  Writ, 
while  the  soil  was  soft  and  the  good 
seed  had  a  chance  of  springing.  The 
school  was  held  in  the  dining  room  in 
winter,  but  out  of  doors  during  the 
heat  of  summer;  not  in  the  orchard 
lest  the  green  apples  and  birds  should 
distract  the  young  Christians,  not  in 
the  garden  lest  the  flowers  and  bees 
should  lead  them  astray,  but  in  the 
door  yard. 

Our  school  was  unsectarian.  There 
were  not  many  children  the  first  Sun- 
day, but  it  soon  increased  to  twenty- 
four  pupils.  My  sister  had  the  senior 
class,  and  I  the  infant  class.  There  was 
a  general  thought  at  the  time, — and 
alas  !  it  still  exists — that  anybody  if  of 
a  fairly  moral  decent  character,  could 
teach  a  Sunday  School  class;  excep- 
tional ability  is  not  required,  nor  com- 
mon sense,  nor  zeal,  nor  any  other  great 
quality.  I  was  not  a  very  willing 
teacher.  "It  is  nothing,"  I  was  told, 
"nothing.  You'll  only  have  to  amuse 
them  a  couple  of  hours,  and  getjthem 
to  learn  a  verse  or  two  of  Scripture  and 
a  bit  of  a  hymn.    That's  all." 

Two  hours  for  a  child  of  twelve  or 
fourteen  is  one  thing,  but  for  a  little 
creature  it  is  too  long  by  an  hour  and  a 
half.  Nothing  indeed,  to  make  seven 
young  children  all  under  seven  years 
of  age,  happy  for  two  hours; 'not  to 
bore  or  weary  them;  to  keep  them 
from  being  unruly;  above  all  toj;^get 
something  of  the  love  of  God,  'the 
great  scheme  of  salvation  into  their 
little  skulls,  to  get  them  to  like,  not 
dislike  and  fear  the  mighty  mind  and 
•^eart  behind  the  universe,  avoiding 
tnat  flippant  familiarity"  which  breeds 
contempt;  tos  filter  it  all  into 'a  nourish- 
ment fit  for  babes,  yet  not  to  despise 
their  feebleness  and  forwardness,  but 
keep  well  before  me  that  "of  such  is 
the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Also  if  pos- 
sible to  teach  them  the  alphabet  of 
good  manners,  so  that  when  they 
stepped  forth  into  the  outer  world, 
they  might,  as  the  colored  minister 
said  to  the  newly  married  couple,  "go 
along  and  behave  themselves." 

Talk  of  the  difficulties  of  a  Prime 
Minister  or  Foreign  Secretary  1     Tut  ! 


A  Shoe  for  Particnlar  Men 


You     cannot    be    too    "fussy" 

.Thout  your  footwear. 

And  the  more  particular  you 

are,    the   more   likely   is  your 

selection     to     rest     upon    our 

shoes. 

You  cannot  make  any  mis- 
take in  selecting  a  shoe  that 
comes  from  the  quality  shoe 
factory  of  the  Minister  Myles 
Shoe  Company — ^and  tha 

BERESFOPD 
SHOE 

Is  one  of  the  most  noteworthy 

\  gentleman's  shoe,  in  every  sense. 
Smart  in  appearance,  full  of  staunch 
wearing  qualities,  and  fits  like  a  glove. 

Worth  trying  at  several  shoe  shops 
to  find  the  Beresford — but  as  a  mirtter 
of  fact,  the  first  shop  you  ask  at  is 
likely  to  have   it. 

Send  Coupon  for 
Vanity  Hand  Glass 

Size  5  inches  long, 
fine    bevelled    glass, 
richly  chased  silver- 
finished     back,     en- 
graved with  any  in- 
itial.    Retail    price, 
50c.      Sent   prepaid 
i^for    15c.    to    cover 
«ost    of  engrav- 
ing,    postage 
and  packing. 


( 


5% 
BERESFORD 

Minister,  Myles 

Shoe  Co.,  Limited 
109  Simcoe  St. 
TORONTO 


s«Bd  ; 

raea    [ 
Vanity 
Hand  Glass 


rJ 


His  perplexities  were  nothing  com- 
pared to  mine.  I  soon  found  out  that 
if  I  was  not  to  be  a  miserable  failure, 
doing  harm  instead  of  good,  I  must 
invent  methods,  lay  plans;  in  short 
give  my  whole  mind  to  the  business; 
that  a  half-hearted  teacher  was  worse 
than  none  at  all.  What  the  senior  class 
learned,  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  say. 
I  know  they  read  a  chapter  in  the 
Testament,  verse  about;  and  the  oc- 
casional singing  of  a  hymn,  in  which 
we  all  joined,  diversified  the  thing,  and 
sometimes  they  had  a  religious  story 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


51 


read  to  them,  but  I  was  too  much  taken 
up  with  my  little  flock  of  lambs  to  have 
time  for  anything  but  my  own  busi- 
ness. 

Now  with  all  humility  and  many 
apologies  to  well  equipped,  full-fledged 
modem  Sunday  School  teachers,  I  will 
explain  my  simple  method.  I  had  four 
slates,  and  on  one  side  of  each  I  drew 
lines,  and  made  pot  hooks  and  hangers, 
as  the  first  step  to  writing,  and  a  row  of 
Arabic  figures  as  a  beginning  of  arith- 
metic; on  the  other  side  I  made  a 
sketch  of  a  beast,  bird,  house,  ship  or 
face  for  the  children  to  copy.  Most  of 
the  pictures  I  took  from  Mrs.  Trim- 
mer's Natural  History.  I  taught  them 
individually.  I  began  with  the  eldest, 
and  heard  his  Scripture  text  or  verse 
of  a  hymn.  He  repeated  it  after  me 
six  times,  while  the  others  were  busy 
with  their  slates.  The  multiplication 
table  was  repeated  in  the  same  way. 
I  took  them  all  in  turn.  It  was  teach- 
ing by  heart,  a  method  which  a  satiri- 
cal old  grammarian  called  "by  hear't, 
going  in  at  one  ear  and  out  at  the 
other."  They  said  the  tables  after  me 
till  they  knew  them  perfectly;  then  I 
put  them  in  class  and  questioned  them 
every  Sunday.  I  taught  them  gram- 
mar by  the  old  rhyme 

"Three  little  words  we  often  see 
Are  articles — a — an — and  the." 

They  knew  the  parts  of  speech  before 
I  had  done  with  them.  The  drawing 
and  singing  lessons  were  decidedly  the 
most  popular.  I  taught  them  the  rules 
of  addition  and  subtraction  by  means 
of  apples;  when  the  apples  were  of 
difTerent  colors,  they  seemed  to  get  on 
better.  They  had  the  apples  to  take 
home,  and  in  the  summer  a  nosegay 
each,  and  went  through  the  garden  to 
help  us  gather  them.  In  spring  many 
of  our  children  brought  us  wild  flowers, 
and  we  gave  them  garden  seeds  to 
plant.  We  closed  with  "God  save  the 
Queen,"  and  always  prayed  for  her. 

I  was  shut  off  in  a  comer  by  myself 
with  my  little  flock,  and  the  least 
promising  urchin  in  the  beginning  soon 
became  my  most  brilliant  scholar.  He 
was  a  red-haired  lad  "going  six"  like  a 
clock,  with  hair  brushed  up,  or  turning 
by  nature  in  what  the  others  called 
"a  cow  lick."  He  always  saw  a  lion  in 
his  path,  and  l)cgan  unwillingly,  but  by 
and  by  warmed  up.  To  every  sug- 
gestion of  mine,  he  responded  like  the 
plaintive  bleat  of  a  little  sheep.  "I 
ca-ant,  please.  I'm  too  young."  His 
name  was  Jimmy.  My  second  scholar 
was_l,barely  four;  very  broad,  round 
about  and  rosy.  He  came  in  the  first 
time  as  if  propelled  from  a  catapult, 
exclaiming,  "Don't  look  at  my  'at.  It's 
my  feyther's  old  'at." 

As  far  as  I  know,  he  never  leamed 
anything  at  all,  except  not  to  wear  this 
hat  in  the  house,  and  the  meaning  of 


IuxeberryWhite 


"  '''  To  the  woman  of  taste  the  white  enameled  room  makes  a 
strong  appeal.  She  delights  in  its  atmosphere  of  cheery,  dainty  bright- 
ness. Not  only  in  her  boudoir,  bedrooms  and  bathroom,  but  in  the 
living  rooms  as  well. 

Lyxcberry  White  Enamel  produces  a 
rich,  deep,  snow  white  efEect  unequaled 
by  any  other  finish.  A  Luxcberry  sur- 
face is  smooth,  satiny  and  durable,  and 
may  be  left  either  a  soft  dull,  or  brilliant . 
as  the  finest  porcelain. 

Luxeberry  White  Enamel  won't  turn 
yellow,  chip  or  crack  and  cleans  in  a  jiffy 
with  soap  and  water. 

In  snow  white  rooms  the  natural  wood  floors 
should  be  protected  and  beautified  by  the  finest 


floor  varnish.  Liquid  Granite  has  all  the  tough- 
ness its  name  implies.  It  brings  out  the  beauty 
of  the  wood,  multiplying  its  attractiveness. 
Liquid  Granite  floors  have  a  durable  elastic  sur- 
face that  withstands  the  wear  of  grown-up  feet 
and  the  romp  of  playing  children — a  surface  you 
can  wash  without  fear  of  turning  it  white — even 
boiling  water  has  no  harmful  effect. 

Berry  Brothers*  Varnishes  have  been  the  first 
choice  of  home  owners,  architects  and  decorators 
for  over  fifty  years.  Ask  your  dealer  abl^it  them 
or  write  us  direct  for  varnish  information  of 
special  interest  to  home  owners. 


EsuUiibcd  1858 


"ladies  first,"  which  last  accomplish- 
ment was  taught  by  resolutely  pulling 
him  to  the  rear  again,  and  making  him 
say  "I  beg  your  pardon,"  whenever  he 
bolted  before  the  girls,  in  his  desire  to 
get  out  when  school  was  over.  His 
father  told  me  when  he  came  that  he 
"knowcd  nothin',"  and  I  think,  he  left 
in  the  same  condition,  but  he  was  a 
quiet  child,  sitting  in  a  little  chair 
Sunday  after  Sunday,  smiling  and 
gazing  about  him  vaguely.     He  never 


tried  to  sing — Jimmy  had  piped  up  the 
first  day,  having  a  most  telling  voice — 
and  only  once  did  he  misbehave,  blub- 
bering from  sheer  weariness  of  the 
flesh,  I  think,  at  the  length  of  the 
entertainment.  When  asked  what  was 
the  matter,  he  said  he  wanted  "to  nuss 
the  old  cat."  This  ambition  seemed  so 
harmless  that  I  brought  Puss  in,  and 
set  her  in  his  lap.  She  didn't  like  Sun- 
day School  and  at  first  was  inclined  to 
scratch,  but  when  she  caught  the  idea 


52 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Try 


the 


Electric 
Cleaner 


10  Days  FREE 


SENT 
PRE-PAID 


Then  the  expressman  will  take  it  away — if 
you'll  let  him.  Here's  a  chance  to  get  your 
housecleaning  done  by  the  Best  Vacuum  Process 
without  cost. 

We  ask  permission  to  place  the  Eureka  in  your  home 
Ten  Days  Free,  because  it's  the  only  way  you  can  know  for 
yourself  what  it  can  do  in  your  own  house.  It's  our  besl 
advertisement,  whether  you  return  it  after  housecleaning 
or  keep  it  for  regular  use. 

The  Eureka  cleans  carpets,  rugs,  floors,  portieres,  walls,  furniture — 
everything — at  about  one  cent  per  hour.  Weighs  but  ten  pounds,  yet  is 
guaranteed  to  clean  as  rapidly  and  thoroughly  and  to  last  as  long  as  any 
cleaner  made,  regardless  of  cost.  Rigidly  guaranteed  and  practically  in- 
destructible. Attaches  to  any  electric  light  socket.  Quickly  pays  for 
itself  in  time  and  labor  saved.  And  remember,  no  other  method  of  clean- 
ing than  the  vacuum  process  can  get  all  the  dirt  and  make  your  home 
really  clean.  If  you  wish  your  family  to  breathe  pure  air,  don't  scatter 
dirt,  remove  it  with  a  Eureka  Vacuum  Cleaner. 

Tell  us  tvhere  to  send  the  cleaner,  or  write  for  Illustrated  Booklet — To-day 

ONWARD  MFG.  COMPANY 


The  Motor  and  Bru^h  Does  the  Woik 


Berlin 


Ontario 


KITCHEN  ECONOMY 

One  burner  or  four — low  flame  or  high — a  slow  fire  or  a  hot  one. 
No  dirt,  soot  or  ashes. 

2Vew  Pfer/Sction 


>VICK    ^L.UE    FLAIME 


Oil  Cook-Stove 

means  better  cooking  at  less  cost — and  a  cool,  clean  ^'kitchen. 
In  1,  2,  3,  and  4  burner  sizes,  with  cabinet  top,  drop  shelves, 
towel  racks,  etc.  The  best  and  most  complete^  oil  [stove  made. 
At  all  dealers  and  general  stores. 


Royalite  Oil  Gives  Best  Results. 


The    Imperial    Oil    Company,    Limited 


Winnipeg 
Montreal 


Toronto 
Vancouver 


St.  John 
Halifax 


and  began  to  purr,  he  laughed  with  the 
tears  rolling  down  his  cheeks. 

There  was  another  boy  of  English 
descent  who  learned  his  hymns,  and 
texts,  as  he  expressed  it  "like  a  good 
'un."  He  walked  a  long  way,  and  one 
Sunday  when  a  pouring  rain  came  on, 
it  was  a  problem  to  know  what  to  do 
with  him.  "Don't  you  fret,"  said  he 
cheerfully,  "my  old  dad  will  come  for 
me  with  his  umbreller."  Sure  enough 
he  did,  and  thanked  us  quite  heartily 
for  our  "trouble,"  saying  he  did  not 
wish  his  boy  to  grow  up  "a  'eathen." 
He  carried  the  child  off  pick-a-back. 
I  had  one  girl  in  my  class,  just 
turned  four.  She  was  fair  and  freckled. 
Her  name  was  Ruth,  and  she  wore  a 
pale  blue  frock,  and  had  a  five  cent 
piece  with  a  hole  in  it  for  a  locket.  She 
was  a  bright  receptive  little  pitcher, 
ready  to  take  and  retain  any  good 
thing  you  wished  to  pour  in.  She 
learned  to  sing,  to  sketch,  to  "do  addi- 
tion," and  not  a  boy  there  could  get 
before  her,  small  as  she  was. 

Time  would  fail  me  to  tell  of  the 
other  four  (though  I  remember  them 
distinctly)  and  also  a  casual,  who 
dropped  in  about  once  in  six  weeks;  a 
Scotch  boy  who  had  a  large  blue  bon- 
net with  a  silver  thistle  in  it.  He 
wished  to  wear  it  in  the  house,  and  as 
this  could  not  be,  we  hung  this  crown- 
ing" glory  on  a  chair,  where  he  could 
keep  his  eye  upon  it.  He  would  not 
speak,  and  I  never  heard  his  voicefrcm 
first  to  last,  but  he  had  a  contemptu- 
ous and  critical  air.  He  came  with  his 
sister  who  was  in  the  senior  class. 

The  first  hymn  taught  was  "Jesus 
loves  me,"  and  a  little  chap  thus  inter- 
preted the  author's  meaning: 

"Little  ones  to  Him  belong, 
They  are  weak  but  He  is" — 

a  long  pause— then  a  sigh — "heavy." 
One  hy  mn '  'There  I  s  a  Happy  Land"  was 
sung  sometimes  by  one  boy  as  a  solo, 
and  they  all  liked  it.  The  third, 
"Happy  They  Who  Trust  in  Jesus," 
had  a  fate  out  of  the  common.  When 
it  came  to  the  last  verse, 

"As  a  bird  beneath  her  feathers, 
Guards  the  objects  of  her  care, 

So  the  Lord  His  children  gathers. 

Spreads  His  wings  and  hides  them  there." 

Ruth  exclaimed  as  a  case  in  point 
"We've  dot  little  chicks,"  and  Matty, 
slipped  out  and  returning  as  we 
chanted  "Amen,"  with  a  young  bird 
in  his  hand,  a  tiny  fled;  ing  out  for  its 
first  flight,  said,  "I  seed  'im  out  o' 
winder  in  the  gardin;  I  crep'  through 
the  'ole  in  the  board  an'  caught  'un." 

Here  was  a  complication  for  explana- 
tion and  pointing  of  the  moral.  ,. 

My  sister's  ambition  was  that  they 
should  "sing  with  the  understanding" 
as  well  as  the  voice,  and  the  words  of 
every  hymn  were  learned  perfectly. 
We  taught  "Glory  to  Thee,  My  God 
This  Night;"  "HarkW'hat  Mean  Those 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


53 


Holy  Voices,"  and  many  other  beautiful 
hymns,  besides  the  Lord's  Prayer  and 
many  texts. 

The  school  lasted  three  years. 
There  were  no  rewards  or  prizes,  save 
a  picnic  in  the  woods,  the  most  success- 
ful I  ever  attended.  It  was  a  perfect 
summer's  day;  there  were  two  swings, 
some  games,  and  a  generous  supply  of 
good  things  to  eat.  The  tipple  was 
lemonade  and  weak  wine  and  water. 
Jimmy  sat  on  a  stone  and  played  the 
jew's-harp;  many  of  the  parents  came, 
and  I  remember  a  baby  in  long  clothes, 
handed  about  like  the  cake  and  wine, 
and  nursed  by  everybody,  and  a  shy 
youth  perched  in  a  tree  like  King 
Charles  in  the  Royal  Oak,  watching  the 
fun  below.  We  had  very  little  opposi- 
tion to  our  school,  though  one  lad 
frankly  told  my  sister  that  the  Sunday 
schools  in  town — he  had  tried  them  all 
— were  "better  fun"  than  ours. 

Also  a  learned  magnate  called  one 
Sunday  to  examine  the  children  as  to 
their  teaching,  having  heard  that  our 
doings  were  "irregular."  He  asked 
them  many  questions  and  admitted 
that  they  answered  intelligently,  but 
when  he  wished  them  to  "define  the 
nature  of  an  oath,  and  the  obligation 
in  it,"  they  were  non-plussed  and 
silent,  till  one  of  my  little  billy-goats 
piped  up  voluntarily,  "Daddy  swears 
sometimes." 

This  turned  his  attention  to  the 
infant  class,  and  I  put  forward  Jimmy 
to  repeat  his  masterpiece,  one  of 
Mary  Howitt's  poems.  His  diction  was 
beautifully  clear  and  correct,  and  the 
reverence,  the  simplicity  of  the  littla 
chap  in  the  last  verses  was  touching. 

"I  saw  him  sit,  and  his  dinner  eat, 

Under  the  forest  tree; 
His  dinner  of  chestnut  ripe  and  red. 

And  he  ate  it  heartily. 
I  wish  you  could  have  seen  him  there. 

It  did  my  spirit  Rood, 
To  see  the  small  thing  God  had  made 

Thus  eating  in  the  wood." 

The  critic  was  mollified,  and  though 
he  shook  his  head,  and  said  "this  is 
secular  instruction,  not  religious  teach- 
ing," he  smiled  tolerantly,  patted  the 
little  scholar  on  the  head,  and  allowed 
himself  to  be  polietly  dismissed,  with  a 
rose  for  his  button-hole. 


Thomas  Edison — 
Ex-Canadian 

BY  JOHN  M.  COPELAND 

N.\P0LF:0N   BONAPARTE  on 
isolated    St.    Helena   once   ex- 
claimed   to    his    aide,    "Mon- 
tholon  !     Montholon  !     The 
world   has   produced   but  three  great 
generals,  Alexander  the  Great,  Julius 
Caesar,  and  myself." 

As   far  as   generals   are  concerned, 
that    may — or    may    not — have    been 


Aleal.  In 
Least  Time 


We  Take  Time  to  Give  You  Leisure 

Just  heat  Heinz  Baked  Beans  while  the  table  is  being  set. 
Then  serve. 

Without  bother  or  fuss,  without  the  hours  of  preparation,  you 
give  your  family  real  baked  beans  with  the  real  flavor  that  comes 
only  when  beans  are  baked  by  fire  in  an  oven.  The  hard  work  is 
all  done  for  you  in  our  famous  kitchens. 

Fleinz  Haked  Beans 

One  of  the  57  Varieties 

are  baked  the  slow,  painstaking  way,  the  one  way  that 
produces  the  flavor  and  makes  beans  most  satisfying 
and  nourishing. 

There  are  quicker,  easier  methods  of  cooking 
beans,  but  we  are  uot  looking,  for  quick  or  easy  ways. 
From  the  start  of  our  business,  our  one  aim  has  been 
to  make  only  the  best. 

That's  why  we  issue  the  broad  guarantee  for  all 
ourproducts,"Your  money  back  if  you're  not  pleased." 

There  are  four  kinds  of  Heinz  Baked  Beans: 

Heinz  Baked  Beans  with  Pork  and  Tomato  Sauce 
Heinz  Baked  Pork  and  Beans  ( without  Tomato  Sauce)— Bo«ton  Style 
Heinz  Baked  Beanit  in  Tomato  Sauce  without  Pork^  (Vegotarian) 
Heinz  Baked  Red  Kidney  Beans 

Others  of  the  57  Varieties  are: 

Spaghetti—cookftI,  reruly  to  serve.  Peanut  Butter,  Cream  Soupa 
India  Relish,  Olives,  Tomato  Ketchup,  etc. 


H.  J.  Heinz  Company 


Mort  \han  SO.OOO  Vijilors  lntp*cled  iht  Heim  Pmt  Fond  KiUhttit  Last  JVor 


true.  But  in  sharp  contrast  to  Napo- 
leon's campaigns  of  destruction  and  his 
monumental  ruin  of  his  fellow-men, 
stands  out  the  constructive  genius 
and  scientific  achievement  so  quietly 
evolved  for  man's  benefit  by  the  brain 
of  an  equally  unique  genius,  Thomas 
Alva  Edison.  He  has  contributed 
more  to  the  advancement  of  modem 
civilization  than  any  other  one  man, 
and  by  inheritance  at  least  he  is  a 
Canadian. 

His  forebears  travelled  to  the  Land 


of  Evangeline  with  the  United  Empire 
Loyalists  in  Revolutionary  times.  A 
generation  later,  they  left  Nova  Scotia 
and  settled  in  that  part  of  the  Province 
of  Ontario  now  registered  as  the 
County  of  Norfolk.  Near  the  little 
town  of  Vienna,  close  to  L^ke  Erie, 
where  relatives  of  the  Edisons  still 
reside,  Thomas  Edison's  elder  brothers 
were  born.  In  1837  the  family  trans- 
ferred their  fortunes  to  Ohio,  and  there 
the  lad  Thomas  and  his  sister  first 
beheld  the  sunshine. 


54 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


The  Kind  a 
Man  Likes 

These  are  the  kind  of  Sweater  Coats  every 
man  likes:  they  are  thick  and  soft,  made  of 
pure,  6  ply,  Australian  Merino  Wool,  closely 
knitted  and  accurately  shaped  by  specif 
machines. 

The  sleeves,  pockets  and  joints  are  knitted 
together,  instead  of  sewn  as  in  ordinary  casea, 
making  the  garment  practically  in  one  piece 
and  all  pure  wool. 

To  wearers  of  Sweater  Coats  this  will  be 
recognized  as  an  immense  advantage. 

CEETEE 

Shaker  Knit 

Sweater  Coats 

are  acknowledged  to  be  the  finest  made  in 
Canada;  in  fact,  the  only  Sweater  of  thi« 
style  made  in  Canada. 

Worn  under  any  cloth  coat,  they  will  keep 
one  warm  in  the  coldest  of  weather,  keeping 
out  all  drafts  and  chills;  or  in  the  Summer 
they  keep  one  warm  in  the  chill  of  the  even- 
ing, or  after  violent  exercise,  are  absolute 
insurance  against  colds. 

Send  direct  by  mail,  postpaid  for  $6.00,  or 
at  most  good  dealers.     Get  one  to-day. 

The  C.  Tumbull  Co.  of  GaltyLtd., 

Gait,  Ontario 

Also  manufacturgrt  of  "CEETEE*  Under- 
clothing, TurnbuU's  Ribbed  Underwear  for 
ladies  and  children  and   TurnbuU's  "M" 
Bands  for  iryfants. 


RIDER  ABENTS  WANTED 


,         r«  to  rid*  and  exhibit  ■  laatpl*  1914  Hytlop  Bicycle 

«<lk  caaaMT  brake  mad  all  1  atett  improwim—tii. 

We  ship  on  aipproviU  to 

any  addres*  la  Canada,  without  any 
deposit,  and  mUew  1  Q  DAYS*  TRIAL. 
It  will  not  cost  you  a  cent  1  f you  aro  net 
Mtlsfied  after  usinc  bicydo  tedays. 

or  »undriM9  ai  anyjtrtcgmitilyoit 
receir*  our  latest  1,14  Ulustratad  c«ta- 
lofva  and  hav«  l«arB«^  our  special 
pnces  and   auractiv*   propoahioa. 

nuc  PciiT  ''  ^^  *^  ^^  ^^'^ 

UnC  uCn  I  you  to  write  ua  > 
poatal,  and  catalogua  and  full  Infor. 
matian  wilt  b«  i«nt  to  yoa  Frtt* 
Poatpatid   by  lehm  lull.      Do 

not  wa.it.   Writa  It  now. 
HYSLOP  BROTHERS,  Limited 
Da»L  C4I  TORONTO,  CuuJi 


Evidently  the  boy's  elementary 
education  began  in  that  state,  but  the 
fact  that  his  brother,  Pitt  Edison, 
managed  a  street  railway  at  Port 
Huron,  Michigan,  probably  accounts 
for  the  lad's  presence  thereabouts  and 
furnished  an  incentive  to  his  nomadic 
predilections. 

Joseph  Draper,  of  the  County  of 
Tipperary,  a  ninety  year  old  veteran 
living  in  Toronto,  who  was  in  1855  a 
giant  conductor  on  the  Ontario,  Simcoe 
&  Huron  Railroad  (Northern  Railway) 
remembers  well  how  young  Thomas 
Edison  sold  newspapers  on  trains  run- 
ning between  Detroit,  Port  Huron, 
Sarnia  and  London.  He  declares  that 
the  embryo  merchant  was  an  active, 
well  behaved  and  likable  stripling  who, 
even  during  the  chrysalis  stage,  nour- 
ished a  specific  bent  by  carrying  with 
him  a  portable  telegraph  key.  During 
the  waning  months  of  the  Civil  War, 
1865-6,  he  obtained  in  Detroit  a 
printing  press  and  learning  the  con- 
tents of  bulletins  from  station  to 
station,  set  up  en  route  and  printed  the 
news  of  the  moment  which  he  sold 
along  the  line  as  the  "Grand  Trunk 
Herald." 

Living  in  an  atmosphere  of  daily 
contact  with  telegraphing,  he  took  to 
"jerking  lightning"  like  a  sailor  to  the 
sea,  soon  becoming  proficient. 

In  1867  he  worked  on  the  wire, 
covering  the  "night  trick"  at  Stratford, 
Ontario,  and  was  also  at  Park  Hill, 
where  the  late  Geo.  B.  Reeve,  of  Grand 
Trunk  and  Southern  Pacific  promi- 
nence, picked  up  operating. 

Every  railroad  telegrapher  is  said  to 
experience  once,  sooner  or  later  during 
his  career,  the  horror  of  being  tempo- 
rarily petrified  with  alarm  on  finding 
he  has  ordered  two  trains  to  pass 
"head  on"  or  from  the  rear  on  a  single 
track.  Railroad  rumor  only  is  my 
authority  for  repeating  a  report  that 
young  Edison  figured  in  such  a  "colli- 
sion on  paper"  at  Camlachie,  Ont., 
which  he  averted  by  quick  thinking 
and  rapid  action. 

In  his  commercial  wire  practice  at 
Detroit  his  colleagues  of  other  days 
remember  him  as  a  good  press  reporter 
whose  handwriting  resembled  printing 
more  than  a  string  of  Spencerian 
script.  They  tell  how  he  tied  the 
Gotham  wiseacres  and  would-be  jokers 
into  knotSjWith  his  apparently  deliber- 
ate speed,  the  key  and  its  characters 
being  a  part  of  him,  like  a  Centaur  and 
his  horse.  His  demeanor  was  at  times 
friendly  and  discursive,  followed  by 
spells  of  dreamy  reflection  and  pro- 
found reticence.  He  would  frequently 
immerse  himself  in  tinkerings  with  the 
sounder  and  key,  adding  to  and  en- 
deavoring to  make  them  different  and 
more  amenable  to  his  advanced  ideas. 
The  reel  with  a  paper  ribbon  on  which 
a   message   from   the   other  end   was 


It- 
must— 
be- 
Bovril 


You  can  be  sure  of  be- 
ing nourished  if  you 
take  Bovril.  Partly  by 
virtue  of  its  own  food 
value,  partly  through 
its  unique  powers  of 
assisting  cissimilation 
of  other  foods,  Bovril 


has  been  proved  to  pro- 
duce an  increase  ia 
flesh,  bone  and  muscle 
equal  to  10  to  20  times 
the  amount  of  BovriF 
taken.  But  it-must-bt- 
Boiril. 


Of  all  Storei.  etc.,  at 

1-oz.,  2Sc.  ;    12-02..  40c.;    4-oz.,  70c. ;   8-oz.,  S1.30i 

IC-oz.,  $2.25. 

Bovril  Cordial,  large.  $1.25:  5.oz.  40c. 

16-oz.  Johnstons  Fluid  Beef  (Vimbos),  $1.20. 

S.H.B. 


The 

Original 

and 

Only 

Genuine 

Beware 

of 

Imitations 

Sold 

on  the 

Merits 

Minard's 
Liniment 


registered  by  means  of  dots  and  dashes 
indented  thereon,  had  not  then  been 
entirely  replaced  by  the  sound  system. 
In  many  guises  I  have  heard  repeated 
the  story  of  his  original  device  for 
answering  his  dispatcher's  call,  though 
wrapped  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus  for 
forty  pilfered  winks.  He  was  working 
in  Western  Ontario  and  the  rule 
declared  that  each  operator  should 
keep  in  touch  with  the  dispatcher  every 
hour  while  on  duty.  The  operator 
must  write  "6"  and  sign  his  telegraphic 
signature  of  a  letter  or  two.  This 
meant  the  next  thing  to  eternal  vigil- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


55 


ance  during  the  quiet  hours  of   the 
night. 

Eklison  pondered  this  problem  and 
attached  an  extra  wheel  to  the  mechan- 
ism of  the  office  clock,  governing  it  by 
an  independent  spring.  Around  the 
rim  of  this  wheel  he  cut  the  dots  and 
dashes  spelling  the  stereotyped  mes- 
sage and  his  code  signature,  arranging 
the  wheel's  position  so  that  it  made  one 
revolution  each  hour  at  the  time  agents 
usually  flashed  "All  well."  From  the 
clock  pinions  a  series  of  wire  coils  con- 
nected with  a  weak  solution  jar  battery, 
were  rigged  and  thence  passing  over 
the  telegraph  key  joined  the  charged 
main  wires  leading  therefrom. 

When  the  clock  struck  each  hour, 
the  supplementary  wheel  sent  the 
necessary  intermittent  ticks  along  the 
temporary  mediums  and  these  were  in 
turn  transmitted  via  the  trunk  wires 
to  headquarters.  With  such  ingenuity 
did  the  budding  inventor  abbreviate 
his  nocturnal  vigils  and  conductors 
"Mammoth"  Johnston  and  "Silk  Hat 
Dick"  Thorpe  never  knew  the  differ- 
ence as  they  whizzed  past  into  the 
encircling  gloom. 

This  anecdote  bears  the  hall  mark  of 
a  measure  of  probability  and  has  been 
vouched  for  by  some  of  Edison's  con- 
temporaries, but  the  yarn  that  he  once 
affixed  to  the  telegraph  office  door  a 
contrivance  that  made  it  collide  with 
the  nasal  organ  of  a  spying  superin- 
tendent is  probably  spurious. 

When  working  at  Fort  Gratiot'^he 
introduced  an  improvement  in  relaying 
messages  across  the  river  at  Sarnia 
which  reduced  by  half,  the  labor 
involved,  evincing  in  this  test  an  early 
aversion  to  ponderous  method  and 
high  costs,  which  has  characterized 
his  subsequent  experiments  and  help- 
ful discoveries. 

On  February  24th,  1868,  Mr.  Edison 
arrived  in  Toronto  en  route  for  Boston 
and  after  a  brief  visit  with  his  former 
friend  John  Murray,  a  well  known  dis- 
patcher, started  eastward.  On  this 
date  a  traffic  paralyzing  three  day 
storm  set  in  and  the  train  was  snow 
stalled,  compelling  Mr.  Edison  and 
several  others  to  return.  Expecting 
improved  weather  and  resumption  of 
train  service,  he  spent  considerable 
time  about  the  old  depot  and  men  who 
met  him  then  state  that  he  was  a 
desultory  talker,  an  inveterate  thinker 
and  a  steady  smoker  quite  oblivious  to 
the  fleeting  hours  of  the  night.  The 
late  James  Stephenson  wiis  superin- 
tendent at  Toronto  that  winter, 
Henry  Bourlier,  so  long  and  honorably 
connected  with  the  Allans,  was  station 
agent,  W.  A.  Wilson,  erect  and  active 
to-day  with  the  "New  York  Central," 
was  the  Morse  Code  operator,  W.  C. 
Nunn — inventor  of  the  railway  signal 
in  '56 — was  agent  at  Belleville,  Ont., 
and  that   thoroughbred,  Mr.  Frederic 


Ships  Carry  Anchors 
in  Fair  Weather 

And   Thoughtful  Men  Carry  Accident 

Insurance  Because  Accidents  Happen 

When   Least  Expected 

OUT  of  thirty  men  who  lost  their  lives  in  a 
recent  fire  in  a  western  city,  five  or  one- 
sixth  of  the  total  number  carried  accident 
insurance  in  The  Travelers,  under  which  the 
Company  will  pay  the  beneficiaries  forty-eight 
thousand  dollars.  The  cost  of  these  five  policies 
was  $95.00. 

This  protection  is  furnished  at  an  annual  ex- 
pense per  thousand  of  less  than  two  cents  per 
day  by  a  company  which  has  been  writing  ac- 
cident insurance  for  over  fifty  years  and  has  paid 
accident  benefits  to  over  632,000  policyholders. 

If  you  are  not  carrying  an  accident  policy,  ap- 
ply for  one  today  in  the  largest  accident  insur- 
ance company  in  the  world. 

It  will  be  too  late  when  the  need  strikes 

*home. 
Travelers  accident  policies  are  famous  for 
their  broad  coverage,  fair  spirit  of  adjust- 
ment and  prompt  payment. 
Moral:  Insure  in  The  Travelers 


The  TRAVELERS  INSURANCE  CO.,  Hartford,  Conn. 


Cu.llo.0 

Pleaae  send  me  partirulnrn  rrKardltiK  your  accident  pollc^na 
Mjr  name,  addrass,  occupation  and  date  of  birth  are  written  t>mtaw  i 


56 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Harry  Lauder  singing  to  himself 

"They  adore  me  when  1  ve  got  my  trouseiB 
on,  but  thev  love  me  in  my  kih". 
"Rob  Roy  Macintosh"— Victor  Record  No.  70004. 

When  the  famous  Scotch  comedian  wants  to  "hear  him- 
self as  ithers  hear  him,"  he  becomes  his  own  audience  of  one  before 
the  Victrola. 

And  he  hears  himself  just  as  his  vast  audiences  hear  him  all 
over  the  world,  just  as  thousands  hear  him  on  the  Vidrola  in  thdr 
own  homes,  just  as  you  too  can  hear  him. 

Hearing  Harry  Lauder  on  the  Victrola  is  really  hearing  him 
in  person  —  his  delightful  droll  Scottish  dialect  and  humorous 
personality  are  all  there  in  Vidtor  Records,  and  Lauder  himself  \ias 
pronounced  them  "simply  'to  the  life'  ". 

Any  "His  Master  s  Voice"  dealer  in  any  city  in  Canada  will 
gladly  play  any  ot  the  4 1  Lauder  records,  or  Victor  Records  by  such 
other  well-known  artists  as  Christie  MacDonald,  Blanche  Ring,  Elsie 
Janis,  Al  Jolson,  Montgomery  &  Stone,  Nat  Wills,  Nora  Bayes,  Robert 
Milliard,  George  M.  Cohan. 

There  are  Vitftors  andVictroIas  in  great  variety  of  styles  from 
$20  to  $300. 

Berliner  Gram  ' 


If  Men  Had  to  Work 

In  the  Kitchen 

IF  any  of  you  men  had  to  work  in  the  kitchenTand  knew  just  how 
much  time  and  work  you  could  save  yourself — three  times  a  day 
— with  a  KNECHTEL  Kitchen  Cabinet,  you'd  have  one  inside  of 
twenty-four  hours. 

Then  why  let  your  wife  go  on  tiring  herself  day  after  day  when  you 
can  save  her  so  much  ? 

Get  her  a  KNECHTEL  Look  for  the  Trade  Mark 

Kitchen  Cabinet  right  now. 
She  will  surely  appreciate 
your  thoughtfiilness. 

A  K^•^;<■HTKL  is  useful  aa  well 
as  omainelital,  and  Mliiething 
tliat  will  laat  a  lifetime  with 
ordinary  cai^.  t ; 


Sold  by  the  Best  Furniture  Stores  in  eyeiy  Town  and  City 
Ask  for  Booklet  M. 

The   Knechtel   Kitchen   Cabinet  Co.,  Ltd., 


NECHTEL 
ITCHEN 
ABINET 


Hanover 


Ontario 


REGISTERED 


Glackmcyer,  Parliamentary  Sergeant- 
at-Arms  1867-1913  was  making  his 
initial  bow  in  railway  service,  probably 
where  Thomas  Edison  purchased  his 
transportation.  On  February  27th, 
he  again  essayed  the  sixteen  hour 
journey  to  Montreal  and  at  Boston  in 
1870  the  duplex  system  appeared, 
enabling  two  operators  to  send  inde- 
pendent messages  over  a  single  wire. 
Then  came  his  perfection  of  the 
quadruplex,  permitting  two  people  at 
each  end  to  forward  and  receive  tele- 
grams simultaneously. 

"Some  of  the  familiar  creations 
of  his  brain  include  the  telegraphic 
button  repeater,  an  electric  pencil  with 
motor  for  duplicating,  the  waxen 
phonographic  records,  dictaphone  and 
revolutionizing  incandescent  light.  To- 
day the  speaking  cinematographic 
pictures  or  kinetophone,  steps  con- 
fidently out  of  the  laboratories  at 
Orange,  N.J.,  to  mystify  yet  convince 
the  incredulous  and  expectant  populace. 
■  Some  years  ago  his  friend  John 
Murray  paid  his  respects  at  New  York 
and  was  well  received  by  his  former 
acquaintance.  Requesting  permission 
to  inspect  the  interior  economy  of  the 
Western  Union  telegraph  office,  Mr. 
Edison  introduced  him  by  letter  to 
the  proper  person,  asking  that  every 
attention  be  shown  him  and  adding, 
"When  Mr.  Murray  was  an  operator 
on  the  'G.  T,  R,'  I  was  a  news  vendor." 


The  Woman  Of  It 

-i,',     '3      Continued  from  page  28. 

to  Sir  Fulke.  I  know  he  does  not  care 
for  your  father — but  you  are  different. 
I  know  he  would  care  for  you!" 

"To  what  end  ?"  asked  the  young 
man.  "I  had  rather  remain  as  I  am — 
I  don't  want  to  owe  anything  to  my 
father's  people.  They  might  not  care 
for  a  singer." 

"Sir  Fulke  would  care  for  you, 
particularly  if  he  saw  you  shoot," 
said  the  Colonel. 

"I  am  due  in  Paris  in  a  little  time." 

"Don't  be  too  proud,  Sinclair — that 
old  man  is  eating  his  heart  out  with 
grief — he  hates  your  father — he  has 
lost  his  own  sons — if  he  were  to  see  you 
he  might  think  that  life  still  held  some 
compensations. ' ' 

Sinclair  did  not  answer  for  a  moment 
or  so_and  then  he  said  with  a  quick 
laughT  "No,  Sanday,  it  would  not  do  ! 
You  see,  I  elected  to  become  a  singer. 
I  might  never  outlive  my  father — he  is 
Sir  Fulke's  heir,  not  I  !" 
.j"But  why  should  you  not  outlive 
your  father  ?  I  never  saw  a  man  who 
seemed  to  be  in  better  physical  con- 
dition." 

"I  don't  know  why  I  said  that,"  said 
the  young  man  frankly,  "except  that 
I  don't  feel  as  if  I  should  live  to  be  very 
old  !  I  lack  the  desire,  I  suppose — I 
never  want  to  outlive  my  voice." 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


67 


"I  had  no  idea  you  cared  solmuch 
for  that."  . 

Again  Robert  laughed.  "You  don't 
understand,"  he  said.  "I  suppose  I 
am  many-sided — no  artist  is  anything 
but  that.  I'll  think  over  what  you  say 
about  Sir  Fulke,  if  he  can  be  got  to 
understand  that  I  don't  want  anything 
out  of  him.  At  any  rate  the  thing  is 
impossible  for  the  present." 

They  had  reached  the  house  and 
Sanday  went  in.  Robert  hesitated,  he 
had  seen  Valerie  disappear  in  to  the  house 
and  he  had  no  wish  to  go  in  just  yet. 

He  walked  towards  the  terrace  and 
stood  at  the  same  place  where  he  had 
seen  Valerie  waiting  two  days  ago. 
She  had  been  waiting  for  him  and  he 
had  known  it.  In  this  twilight,  he 
fancied  he  could  still  see  her  outline, 
could  still  hear  the  voice  he  loved  best 
in  the  world.  And  for  a  moment  he 
gave  himself  up  to  dreaming  of  what 
might  have  been,  if  his  father  had  not 
been  the  man  he  was. 

"I  should  have  been  heir  to  a  fine 
estate,"  he  said.  "I  should  have  been 
a  soldier.  Valerie  would  have  been 
my  wife,  we  should  have  lived  together 
in  absolute  content  and  our  children 
w^ould  have  played  about  our  knees,  I 
should  have  sung  to  her  and  she  would 
have  played  for  me.  I  should  have 
stood  by  her  side  and  the  piano  candles 
would  have  brought  out  all  the  red  gold 
of  her  hair  and  her  white  hands  would 
have  wandered  over  the  keys  and  when 
I  had  finished  singing  she  would  have 
looked  up  at  me  and  would  have  known 
it  was  all  for  her." 

It  was  quite  a  simple  dream  this — 
naturally  he  thought  about  his  singing 
and  her  playing  for  him — but  the  main- 
spring of  it  all,  was  love — his  love  for 
her  and  her  love  for  him — that  quiet, 
deep  love  that  has  its  roots  in  eternity  ! 

"What  a  fool  I  am,"  he  said  to  him- 
self and  turned  to  go. 

A  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder. 
He  turned  quickly  and  in  the  deepening 
darkness,  he  recognized  his  father. 

"The  best  about  a  great  man  is,  that 
his  whereabouts  cannot  be  hidden," 
Geoffrey  Sinclair  cried  almost  gaily: 
"The  papers,  my  son,  tell  me  that  you 
are  staying  with  our  old  acquaintances, 
the  Mertons."  The  captain's  speech 
broke  across  Robert's  visions  like  a 
great  ugly  scar  across  a  fair  body.  He 
shook  off  the  hand  that  his  father  had 
laid  ujTon  him. 

"Why  should  you  particularly  want 
to  know  where  I  am  ?"  he  asked. 

"You  have  a  peculiarly  straight  way 
of  asking  a  question,"  the  captain  said 
with  a  sneer.  He  could  not  keep  up  a 
pretence  of  gaiety  with  his  son.  The 
fundamental  differences  between  (hem 
were  too  great.  He  hated  Robert  for 
his  youth  and  his  beauty  and  his  fame 
and  most  of  all  because  he  had  money 
and  he,  the  captain,  had  none. 


A  Record  Growth 

Ui 


From  small  beginnings  in  1810 
the  Hartford  Fire  Insurance  Com- 
pany has,  in  1914,  reached  its 
present  preeminent  position  in  the 
fire  insurance  field.  Its  steady- 
growth  in  strength  has  been  unre- 
tarded  by  the  enormous  losses  it 
has  paid  to  its  policyholders  both 
in  the  great  conflagrations  of 
American  History  and   in  those 


small  but  persistent  losses  whic 
occur  somewhere  every  minute  o 
every  day  and  night. 

Willingness  to  adjust  losse 
fairly,  ability  to  pay  fully  an 
readiness  to  pay  promptly  are  th 
three  great  fire  insurance  virtu  t 
and  they  are  the  explanation  ( 
the  "Hartford's"  growth  an 
prosperity. 


When  you  need  Fire  Insurance 

Insist  on  the  "Hartford " 


"But  you  have  not  a  peculiarly 
straight  way  of  answering  one.'      >^^ 

"I  will  answer  it  straight  enough.  I 
wanted  to  know  where  you  were 
because  I  wanted  money,"  he  said. 

"My  lawyer  wrote  me  on  the  first 
of  August  that  he  had  sent  you  fifty 
pounds,"  said  Robert.  "The  next 
instalment  is  due  the  first  of  Novem- 
ber !" 

"The  first  of  November,"  said 
Geoffrey  Sinclair.  "  It  is  now  the 
beginning     of     October.        Do     you 


think  I  can  live  on  air  until  then  ?" 
"I  am  afraid,"  said  Robert  quieth  ," 
that  I  have  not  given  that  subject  nnich 
consideration.  I  told  you  the  amount 
I  was  prepared  to  allow  you — it  is  for 
you  to  arrange  your  expenditure  nr- 
cording  to  your  income." 

"And  if  I  tell  you  that  the  thing  can- 
not be  done  !  That  it'is  impossible  for 
a  man  of  my  habits  to  live  on  a  paltr>- 
two  hundred  a  year  !" 

"Then  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  to 
change  your  habits  !" 


58 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 
I 


DOCTOR,  MERCHANT 
FARMER,  MANUFACTURER 

It  matters  not  who  the  car  owner  is,  he  wants 
two  things:  Safety,  Service. 


IL 


m^i^Oh 


<V^EAD 


Never 

Did 

Rim-Cut 


66  Cubic 
Inches 
Larger 


BECAUSE  he  gets  these  two  and  many  others  from  Dun- 
lop  Traction  Treads  you  find  the  car  owner,  whether  he  is 
Doctor,  Merchant,  Farmer  or  Manufacturer,  one  of  the 
many  seen  driving  cars  equipped  with  the 

"Most  Envied  Tire  in  All  America" 

Speed  for  the  Doctor 
Reliability  for  the  Merchant 
Comfort  for  the  Farmer 
Durability  for  the  Manufacturer 
Safety  for  all 

And  these  hosts  of  motorists,  not  only  travel  in  perpetual 
safety,  but  they  never  hear  anything  about  rim-cutting, 
insufficient  air  capacity,  etc.,  unless  their  acquaintances 
whose  cars  are  unequipped  with  Dunlop  Traction  Treads 
tell  them  their  tire  troubles. 


PleaM  mention  Canada  Moktblt  wbea  ron  write  to  advcrtiMn. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


59 


"To  change  my  habits  !J  You  young 
coxcomb  !"  The  captain  allowed  his 
wrath  to  overflow  and  Robert  was 
irresistiblv  reminded  of  his  boyhood 
and  the  blows  that  woud  have  followed 
an  outburst  like  this. 

He  waited  until  Geoffrey  Sinclair  had 
finished  hurling  epithets  at  him  and 
then  he  spoke  again,  "I  told  you  once 
for  all,  that  I  would  allow  you  two 
hundred  a  year — I  was  a  fool  to  do  that, 
I  suppose,  but  I  could  not  allow  the 
man  my  mother  had  married  to  starve 
— but  I  will  not  allow  you  one  penny 
more  !" 

He  turned  away — the  thing  dis- 
gusted him.  That  he  should  have  to 
deny  money  to  anyone,  especially  to 
this  man,  was  a  loathsome  thing.  And 
yet  he  knew  that  if  he  were  not  firm, 
this  kind  of  scene  would  be  repeated  as 
long  as  he  lived. 

"But  I  tell  you  it  is  impossible  to 
live  on  a  sum  like  that !" 

"What  did  you  live  on  before  you 
found  out  my  identity  withthesinger — 
what  do  you  think  we  lived  on,  my 
mother  and  I,  all  the  years  that  I  was 
learning  my  trade  ?" 

"I  am  sure  I  do  not  know"  said  his 
father  disdainfully.  "Your  mother 
had,  I  always  believed,  some  secret 
ways  of  getting  money,  that  I  knew 
nothing   of  1" 

His  son's  face  was  not  good  to  look 
on. 

"I'll  trouble  you  to  explain  exactly 
what  you  mean  by  that,"  he  said 
slowly. 

His  father  drew  back;  there  was 
something  threatening  in  the  very 
quietness  of  Robert's  voice. 

"I  mean,  that  she  must  have  sold 
more  stuff,  than  I  knew  of,"  he  sa 

"Very  well — we  will  leave  it  at  that. 
If  you  dared  to  insinuate  anything 
derogatory  to  her,  I  should  have 
knocked  your  teeth  down  your  throat. 
My  mother  had  a  means  of  getting 
money,  that  you  had  not.  She 
■worked  !  You  consumed  the  product  of 
her  work  !" 

"A  man  of  my  temperament  cannot 
demean  himself  to  go  from  shop  to 
shop  selling  his  wares,"  said  thecaptain, 
and  then  he  added  unconscious  of  the 
childishness  of  his  remark,  "Besides,  1 
could  not  have  modelled  in  clay  !" 

"You  could  have  borne  your  part," 
said  Robert  and  then  he  turned  away 
impatiently.  "This  is  futile — you 
could  have  been  an  honest  man,  I 
suppose.  You  could  have  handed  down 
a  stainless  name  to  your  son.  You 
could  have  worked  for  your  wife  and 
child,  but  you  did  none  of  these  things. 
There  is  no  more  to  be  said  !" 

"Except  that  I  am  asking  you  for 
the  loan  of  s<imc  money  !" 

"You  can  save  youself  the  trouble  of 
asking  I' ' 

"But  I  tell  you  that  I  must  have  it  !" 


m 


Have  you  a  little  'Fairy"*  in  your  home?  " 


Your  healthy,  husky  boy  or  pretty,  playful  girl 

will  enjoy  Fairy  Soap  for  the  toilet  and  bath  and 

what  they  enjoy  you  will  also  appreciate. 

FAIRY  SOAP 

It  is  healthfully  cleansing,  of  course — and  it  is  sweet  and 
pure  and  clean  because  it  is  made  of  fine  vegetable  oils. 


%\ 


Each  white,  oval  float- 
ing cake  of  Fairy  Soap 
is  good   for  twenty- 
\       five  full  baths. 


Wears  to  the  thinnest 
wafer  —  that's  econ- 
omy;  delights  its  user        ,  . 
— that's  satisfaction.        /  /■/ 


w 


.,a«i»^„„ 


iTHENK  FAIRBANKconp 


LI M  I  T  t  D 

MONTREAL 


■.r?fV;/3»»^ 


"You  will  have  to  get  it  as  you  can  !" 
"I  will  ask  Lord  Merton  !" 
To  be  continued. 


Introducing  Louis 

Continued  from  page  24. 

But  all  this  about  our  voyagcur, 
and,  so  far,  not  a  word  alxjut  your 
letter    with    its    description    of  Their 


Excellencies'  Garden  Party,  the  Yacht 
C!Iub  affair,  and  other  "doin's"  in  the 
home  city.  You  are  indeed  in  your 
clement,  and  I'm  sure  your  new  gowns 
are  all  that  you  say.  But  to  save  me 
I  can't  work  u|i  much  interest  in  such 
things.  This  life  in  the  oixin  has  a 
way  of  twirling  you  round  and  round, 
till  you  find  yourself  reversing  your 
opinions  and  beliefs,  also  your  per- 
spective. 

For  instance,  this  moose  hunt  in  the 


60 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


61 


Peace  River  Country  seems  ever  so 
much  more  important,  inspiring,  and 
altogether  desirable  than  any  garden 
party  could  possibly  be.  Thanks 
though,  for  the  letter.  Something 
about  it,  the  faint  fragrance  (lilac, 
isn't  it  ?)  or  the  family  crest,  made  me 
homesick  for  the  moment.  The  per- 
fume brought  up  the  big  garden  sloping 
to  the  orchard,  the  garden  where  we 
dreamed  our  dreams  and — oh,  yes, 
that  garden  is  grand. 

The  crest  was  even  more  than  a  call, 
it  was  a  challenge.  I  spread  the 
envelope  out  on  my  knee  as  I  sat  by 
the  campfire  at  noon,  and  studied  it. 
What  a  dignified,  benevolent  looking 
unicorn  is  ours  !  Unconsciously,  quite 
unconsciously,  I'm  sure,  he  hitched 
his  horn  in  that  corner  of  my  heart 
where  I  store  my  sentiments  and 
imbitions,  and  pulled  gently  toward 
the  presidency  of  the  Daughters  of 
Social  Service,  the  Countr>'  Club,  a 
certain  lu.xurious  launch,  a  whole 
jumble  of  delectable  things.  Heighho  ! 
Finding  this  ineffectual,  he  withdrew, 
and  charged  me  like  a  cross  old  goat, 
impaled  me,  gave  me  a  prodigious 
toss  toward  the  effete  east. 

The  wind  carried  your  envelope 
away  and  Louis  brought  it  back.  He 
seemed  amused. 

"This,"  I  said,  holding  it  up,  "is  our 
family  crest." 

"Very  gran',"  he  returned  lightly. 
"Wait,  ol'  Louis  hab  ores',  he  show  you, 
yes." 

From  his  belt  he  drew  a  something 
made  of  embroidered  deerskin  and 
wampum  covered  with  hieroglyphics. 
"Me,  I  had  mooch  cres'.  My  gran- 
f adder  he  ees  Eagle  Tip.  Ever  hear 
'bout  heem,  liagle  Tip  de  scalp  taker  ? 
See,  dis  ees  stone  head  arrow,  dis  ees 
de  high  feddcr  for  de  warrior's  head, 
yes.  De  axe  she  is  leetle  but  weeckcd, 
iiid  here,"  with  a  lean  brown  finger  on 
1  string  of  scalps,  "ees  w'at  you  call  de 
|)r()of  ob  de  [pudding,  see." 

I    saw,    anfl     turned    sr;i-«irk'.       Ugh, 

those  scalps! 

"Heap  bravt;  m.ui  li.  j^i.iii'fadder 
of  me,"  Louis  was  saying.  "He  wove  de 
cres'  " — with  a  smile,  "into  de  skins 
ob  his  teepee  dat  all  can  know  hee's  kill 
more  men  dan  o<lder  folk.  He  mak' 
dam'  good  fight  al'right,  but  hees  dead 
long  tam.  Me,  I'm  not  becg  warrior, 
for  w'y  I  mak'  hees  cres'  mine,  eh  ? 
Too  mooch  man,  me,  to  ornament  wit' 
«ralps  some  odder  feller  took,  b'gosh  !" 

"If  you  value  it  so  lightly,  why  do 
you  treasure  it  ?"  I  demanded  irrit- 
ably. 

Oh,  Coz,  if  you  could  have  seen  the 
maliciousness  of  iiis  merriment. 

"or  Louis  he  is  fool,  too;  he  tell 
licemsclf  dat  some  tam  he  is  meet  man 
or  woman  he  want  show  off  to,  spread 
dc  tail  lak  peacock.  You  know  de 
■way,  eh  ?" 


No  Man  Can  Justify 
Higher  Tire  Prices 

Higher   Than   Goodyear   No-Rim-Cut   Tires 


Many  other  Canada-made 
tires  are  offered  from  one- 
eighth  to  one -third  higher 
than  Goody  ears. 

More  Can't  be  Given 

We  say  to  you — after  14  years 
of  trying — that  more  of  value  can't 
be  given  than  we  give  in  No-Rim- 
Cut  tires. 

And  no  other  lire  costs  so  much 
to  make,  unless  that  cost  is  due 
to  wasteful  methods  or  to  smaller 
output. 


We  give  you  here,  in  a  costly 
way,  the  one  feasible  tire  that 
can't  rini-cut. 

We  give  you  the  "On-Air  Cure" 
— to  minimize  blow-outs. 

We   have    reduced    by    60    |)er 
cent,    the    risk   of 
loose  treads. 

And  in  AH-Wea- 
ther  treads  we  give 
you  an  anti-skid 
with  which  noth- 
ing of  the  kind 
compares.  Yet  for 
these  you  actually 
pay  less  than  for 
other  Canada- 
made  an  ti -skid 
tires. 

And  not  anolluT 
tire  on  the  market 
offers  you  any  one 
of  these  costly 
features. 


Made  in  Canada 

These  tires  'are  made  by  Cana- 
dians in  Canada.  As  pr.rc  of  the 
Goodyear  organization,  our  Bow- 
manville  factory  gives  you  the 
benefit  of  the  experience  and 
methods  of  our  great  Akron  plant. 

We  have  a  staff  of  graduate 
experts  working  simply  on  research 
and  experiment.  They  build  in 
our  laboratory  8  or  10  tires  a  day, 
in  efforts  to  get  more'mileage. 

They  test  them  on  roads  and  on 
testing  machmes.  But  they  have 
not  in'  years  found  a  way  to  add 
mileage,  save  through  our  AII- 
Weather  tread.  So,  in  all  proba- 
bilil>'.  bMicr  tires  never  can  bi'. 


GoODi^^R 

^~  "^       TOKOINTO 

No- Rim- Cut  Tires 

With  All- Weather  Treads 
or  Smooth 


Where 
We  Save 

We  save  by 
modern  equip- 
ment. We  sa\e 
by  a  low  profit 
policy. 

Higher  prices 
h  a  \'  ('  III  1  n-  i^-i'ii 
which  means  any- 
t  h  i  ng  to  you. 
I'rove  this,  if  you 
doubt  it,  by  actual 
I  mileage  tests. 


I 


The  Goodyear  Tire  &  Rubber  Co.  of  Canada^  Limited 

Head  Office:  TORONTO       Factory:  BOWMANVILLE 


29 


62 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


The  Ford— the  Lightest, 
Surest,  Most  Economical— 
the  very  essence  of  auto- 
mobiling — and   all  Canadian. 

Model  T  $i 


Runabout 
f.  o.  b.  Ford, 
Ontario 

Get  particulars  from  your  local  agent. 


'600 


A  Business  for  Boys  and  Girls 

THERE  is  ONE  business  which  young  people  have  appropriated  to 
themselves,     it  is  a  big  business — that  of  the  stenographer. 


It  is  a  good  business. 
The  stenographers 
of  Toronto  are  paid 
over  FIVE  MIL- 
LION DOLLARS 

a  year. 

Most    stenograph- 
ers use  the  Under- 
w^ood  Typewriter. 
Our    Employment 
Department  is  abig 


factor  in  their  suc- 
cess. In  this  city 
alone  we  supply 
stenographers  for 
500  positions  a 
month. 

The  Underwood 
stenographer  is  in 
demand  every- 
where and  all  the 
time. 


Write  for  a  copy  of  'Speed's  th^  Thing." 

United  Typewriter  Company,  Ltd. 

Adelaide  Street  East,  Toronto.       Offices  in  all  Canadian  Cities. 


Why  doesn't  she  take 

NA-DRU-CO  Headache  Wafers 

They  stop  a.  headache  promptly,  yet  do  not  contain  any  of 
the  dangerous  drugs  common  in  headache  tablets.  Ask  your 
Druggist  about  them.     25c.  a  box. 

National  Drug  and  Chemical  Co.  of  Canada,   Limited.   122 


It  must  have  been  the  camp  fire 
made  my  face  so  hot. 

"My  grandfather  scaled  a  wall  and 
won  a  city,"  1  explained. 

"All  same  thing,"  he  asserted  tran- 
quilly, "Dere  be  som'ting  he  want  tak' 
from  odder  man,  gun  mebbe,  or  pony, 
or  woman,  it's  al'  same  scalp.  He 
sport  hees  high  fedder,  sharp  his  knife, 
and  hip  hurrah  for  fight,"  ending  with 
a  motion  of  tying  a  fresh  scalp  to  a  full 
belt.  "De  more  he  kill,  de  big  man 
he  ees,  queecker  he  get  hees  cres'. 
Wat  you  t'ink  ?"  His  comical  leer 
is  irresistible. 

"It's  time  we  were  off,"  I  remarked 
by  way  of  turning  the  conversation. 
"Sure  t'ing,  de  water  is  call  us  come 
along  !  Come  along  1  Who  geeve  a 
dam'  w'at  dem  ol'  scalp  takers  do,  eh  ? 
Me,  I  radder  be  Louis  de  no  good,  wit' 
paddle  in  my  han'  an'  laugh  in  my 
heart,  dan  be  any  dead  man  no  matter 
how  high  his  fedder  fly,  b'gosh  1" 

Delicious,  wasn't  it  ?  This  wilder- 
ness philosophy  doesn't  make  its 
appeal  to  your  head,  but  to  the  human 
inside  you.    My  eyes  sought  our  crest. 

Believe  it  or  not,  Coz,  the  unicorn 
had  drawn  in  his  horn,  so  to  speak,  and 
looked  positively  meaching. 

I'm  bothered  about  you,  Coz, — you 
and  your  headaches  and  sleeping 
powders  I  A  girl  of  your  age  and 
build  oughtn't  to  know  a  blessed  thing 
about  either. 

I  wish  you  could  be  with  us  this 
autumn.  You'd  sleep  without  rocking, 
let  alone  powders.  You  say  you  worry 
yourself  wide  awake.  I  know  that 
state,  and  sleep  won't  come  no  matter 
how  many  sheep  you  send  skipping 
foldward,  nor  how  much  poetry  you  go 
over.  I've  often  recited  "Mary  Queen 
of  Scots"  from  start  to  finish.  I've 
begun  on  her  romping  in  the  convent 
garden.  "In  that  first  budding  spring 
of  youth  when  all  life's  prospects 
please,"  and  left  her  with  her  beautiful 
head  cut  off  in  old  Fotheringay 
Castle,  without  inducing  the  least 
drowsiness.     It's  nerves. 

One  hasn't  any  to  speak  of  up  here. 
Wait  till  I  tell  you.  Yesterday  eve  I 
was  at  outs  with  myself,  my  man,  and 
my  Maker.  No,  it  isn't  smartness  or 
irreverence,  it's  truth.  Truth  comes 
to  the  surface  in  these  lonely  places. 
What  was  wrong  ?  Nothing  much. 
I  had  done  my  best  to  quarrel  with 
my  husband.  One  hates  to  try  and 
not  succeed. 

Well,  I  took  my  much  abused  self 
into  the  tent  which  Louis  had  pitched 
in  the  edge  of  the  wood.  Joan  was 
already  fast  asleep  in  the  camp  bed, 
but  as  for  me,  I  wouldn't  close  an  eye. 
I  would  as  on  former  occasions  fuss 
and  fret,  go  over  each  harsh  word, 
dwell  on  each  glance  and  tone,  come 
by  final  stages  to  tears  of  contrition, 
the  tears  that  spoil  your  complexion. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


63 


HUDSON  Six.40 
$2 


Rides  Like  Constant  Coasting 


Just  Drive  this  Six  Ten  Miles. 
No  Question  then  About  Sixes ! 

Go  to  your  local  HUDSON  dealer.  Take  a  ride,  at  the  wheel,  in  this  new  Six-40.  Then  you  will 
become  forever  a  Six  enthusiast.  Note  this  price,  this  weight,  these  flowing  lines,  these  superb 
appointments.  Note  that  Howard  E.  Coffin  builds  the  HUDSON  Six-40.  And  then  you  will  have 
the  answer  to  the  question  of  "  which  Six." 


THIS  new  HUDSON  Six-40  can 
best  speak  for  itself;  You  know 
y<'ur  likes  and  wishes.  See  if  this  car 
meets  them. 

It  needs  no  salesmanship.  The  facts 
are  all  apparent.  Just  get  the  car's  own 
story  and  judge  it  for  yourself. 

Decide  These  Things 

First,  do  you  want  a  Six?  If  any 
doubt  lingers,  this  ride  will  dispel  it. 
The  smoothness,  the  flexibility,  the 
lack  of  vibration  will  make  a  resistless 
appeal.  If  you  like  luxury  of  motion 
you  are  coming  to  a  Six. 

Then  the  weight  question.  The 
HUDSUN  Six-40  weighs  2,980  pounds, 
due  to  skillful  designing  and  properly 
chosen  materials.  Do  you  wish  to 
carry,  in  an  equal-powered  car,  from 
450  to  1,250  extra  pounds?  It  would 
mean  the  same,  in  tire  cost  and  fuel, 
as  to  carry  at  all  times  three  to  eight 
extra  passengers. 

Then  operative  cost.  The  HUDSON 
Six-40  has  a  new-type  motor — small 
bore  and  long  stroke — which  has  made 
amazing  miles-per-gallon  records.  Your 
HUDSCJN  dealer  has  many  actual  com- 
parisons. Figure  out  what  this  one 
feature  will  save  in  the  years  to  come. 


The  Quality  Question 

THEN  let  this  Six-40,  designed  by 
Howard  E.  Coffin,  show  you  the 
meaning  of  a  high-grade  car.  Judge 
what  it  means  in  staunchness,  in  free- 
dom from  trouble,  in  long  life  and  low 
upkeep.  Now  that  $2,300  buys  all 
these  things,  isn't  quality  worth  get- 
ting ?  

T^'HEX  see  if  this  car  meets  your 
ideals  of  beauty.  Note  the  stream- 
line body  with  the  lines  unbroken  and 
without  a  hinge  in  sight.  Mark  the 
perfect  finish,  the  deep,  rich,  hand- 
buffed  upholstery.  Will  a  car  so  dis- 
tinguished add  to  the  pleasure  of  own- 
ership ? 

CEE  the  new  equipment — the  two 
disappearing  tonneau  seats,  the 
"One-Man"  top,  the  quick-adjusting 
side  curtains,  the  dimming  searchlights, 
the  concealed  speedometer  gear.  Note 
how  extra  tires  are  carried — ahead  of 
the  front  door.  Note  the  gasoline  tank 
with  its  gauge  in  the  cowl.  Note  the 
convenience  of  every  control.  All  these 
are  this  year's  impnjvements. 

The  Price  Question 

T'HEN    judge   if   anything    in    com- 
parable cars  justifies  a  higher  price. 
What  more  can  any  maker  'offer^in^a 


car  of  like  capacity  ?  And  what  lower 
price,  in  any  type,  offers  so  m  uch  per 
dollar? 

Count  depreciation  too.  Since  the  Six 
is  the  type  of  the  future,  and  since  these 
lines  and  equipment  are  the  coming 
vogue,  think  how  this  car  will  hold  its 
value  as  compared  with  other  types. 


LET  the  HUDSON  Six-40— the  ca- 
itself — answer  these  questions  for 
you.  Let  it  make  its  own  appeal 
And  don't  delay.  We  are  at  this  writ- 
ing weeks  behind  on  our  orders.  We 
have  no  hope  of  meeting  all  the  next 
two  months'  demand. 

Phaeton,  with  extra  tonneaa  seats — 
or  Roadster— $2,250  f.  o.  b.  Detroit, 
Duly  Paid.  Convertible  Roadster,  with 
leather  top,  lined,  windows  that  drop 
out  of  sight  into  the  doors — a  car  as 
beautiful  and  comfortable  in  ron^b 
weather  as  a  limousine,  and  that  can 
be  quickly  changed  to  an  open  roadster, 
$2,575,  f.  o.  b.  Detroit,  Duty  Paid. 

The  HUDSON  Six-54 

The  new  lUiDSON  Six-54  is  almo.st 
identical  with  the  HUDSON  Six-40  in 
design  and  equipment.  Hut  it  is  larger 
and  more  [jowcrful.  It  is  for  men  who 
want  a  more  imprtssJive  car.  Its  price 
is  S2,!».^0,  f.  o.  b.  Detroit,  Duty  Paid. 


HUDSON  MOTORJCAR  CO.,  7855  Jefferson  Ave.,  DETROIT,  MICH. 

Pl«aw  nwDtioo  Cahada  Mokthlt  whin  you  wriu  to  adrrniMt*. 


64 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


PUBLISHED  TO-DAY 

We  publish  to-day  from  the  pen  of  Canada's  Grand  Old  Man  his 
personal  recollections  of  "Political  Canada  for  the  past  sixty  years.  Sir 
Charles  is  the  last  surviving  member  of  the  F'athers  of  Confederation,  and 
was  an  intimate  friend  and  colleague  of  Sir  John  A.  MacDonald.  The 
construction  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway,  as  well  as  Confederation, 
are  events  inseparably  connected  with  the  political  life  of  the  distinguished 
author. 

Everyman  who  is  interested  in  the  political  history  of  Canada  should 
read — • 

Recollections  of  Sixty  Years  in  Canada 

BY  CANADA'S   GREATEST  CONSTRUCTIVE   STATESMAN 

Right  Hon.  Sir  Charles  Tupper,  Bart. 

In]ithis"'  volume,  Sir  Charles  takes  us  back 
to  the  time  'of  [the  Confederation,  and  from  that 
period  until  the  present  day  reviews  in  an 
interesting  and  absorbing  manner  all  the  im- 
portant events  that  have  gone  to  make  up 
Canadian  history. 

Handsomely  bound  in  blue  cloth,  gilt  top, 
illustrated. 


Price  $4.00 

For  Sale  by  all  Booksellers 

If  you  canaot  secure  a  copy  from    yonr  bookseller,  we 
rill  be  pleased  to  send  on  receipt  of  your  order. 


CASSELL  &  CO.,   Limited 


PUBLISHERS 


55  Bay  Street     -     Toronto 


London 


New  York 


Melbourne 


Try  me  - 

I  wont  disappoint  you ! 


You  know  how  it  is,  Coz,  every  woman 
knows.  In  the  dark  we  lug  out  our 
stool  of  repentance,  wobbly  from  over 
use,  and  what  time  our  soul  isn't  using 
the  thing  to  beat  herself  black  and  blue 
with  she's  sitting  upon  it  so  zealously 
she  gets  creeping  paralysis,  and  falls 
ofT  in  the  proper  condition  of  limpness 
for  being  made  into  a  door  mat. 
This  was  what  I  looked  forward  to, 
but — as  old  Louis  says  when  telling 
how  the  grizzly  pushed  him  off  the  old 
caribou  trail,  in  the  gold  digging  days, 
"De  firs'  t'ing  I  know  I  know  not'ing 
.at  all." 

It  is  the  place,  the  life.  The  water 
and  the  wilderness  spy  you  out,  lay  a 
wager  into  the  wind  that  they  will  put 
you  to  sleep  before  he  can  go  as  far  as 
Grey  Goose  Lake  and  back.  Always 
the  water  sings  a  slumber  song — 
even  its  anger  chant  has  a  lullaby 
tacked  to  the  tail  of  it — and  this  deep 
old  wilderness  is  God's  own  dulcimer 
echoing,  echoing  on  all  its  strings  the 
hymn  of  rest  that  thrilled  the  warm 
new  world   that  first  Sabbath  of  all. 

Coz,  I  lay  there — I,  no  account, 
small-souled  I — and  heard  the  music 
of  the  spheres,  vivid,  clear,  at  first, 
then  faint  and  far  away,  infinitely 
grand,  infinitely  sweet.  I  wasn't  a 
grown  up  with  responsibilities  and 
hurts,  I  was  little,  so  little  I  had  a  lisp, 
so  good  I  couldn't  hope  to  live  long 
(don't  dare  to  laugh,  Celia)  and  a  near 
and  dear  mammie  was  rocking  me  to 
sleep,  such  sleep  ! 

In  the  rosiness  of  sunrise  I  woke, 
kicked  the  neglected  repentance  stool 
out  of  my  way  (metaphorically  speak- 
ing) and  faced  the  world,  alert,  alive, 
and,  for  no  reason  at  all,  tickled  foolish 
with  myself.    Also  I  was  better  looking. 

Do  you  wonder  that  I  wish  my  little 
pale-faced  Coz  were  with  us  on  this 
visit  to  the  moose  ?  We  refer  to  it  as  a 
moose  hunt  out  of  courtesy  to  Louis 
and  his  gun;  but  it's  only  a  visit.  I 
call  to  mind  a  remark  of  yours  anent 
that  slumming  fit  that  took  you  last 
year.  When  we  enquired  what  you 
hoped  to  accomplish  by  making  morn- 
ing calls  on  women  in  the  ward,  you 
returned,  in  all  seriousness:  "Accom- 
plish !  Oh,  I  don't  expect  to  accom- 
plish much,  but  I'm  curious  to  see 
where  and  how  the  poor  things  live, 
and  if  they  are  kind  to  their  babies." 

Just  so.  We  hope  to  carry  on  some 
such  an  investigation,  and  with  Louis 
to  guide  and  philosophize,  the  trip 
promises  to  be  worth  while.  Since  you 
are  not  to  be  with  us,  you  shall  have 
such  a  report.  If  we  can't  have  your 
company  we  can  have  your  envy. 
One  last  word,  dear,  don't  keep  too 
busy.  As  Louis  would  say  with  his 
grin,  "W'at  de  use  mak'  bot'  end  meet 
eef  de  back  be  break  on  de  job.  I 
dunno." 

Betty  Blue. 


Learn  Music  In 
Sixty  IMinutes 

■■-< 

Sot  6  Years,  6  Montlis  or  6  Days,  Bnt 
60  Minutes. 

We  mean  just  what  we  say  and  we  can 
point  to  men,  women  and  children  of  all 
age3  and  classes.  In  almost  every  nook  and 
cranny  of  this  Continent,  who  have  learned 
to  play  the  piano  or  organ  In  ONE  HOUR. 
An  Invention,  so  simple  as  to  astonish  everj 
one,  makes  this  startling  statement  abso- 
lutely true. 

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AU  About  B<i  llstten: 


•ow  J^wk   All  {I' 
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and   TiAppinrii  In  M^rri^pr 


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CO. 

TORONTO 


CLEMENTS  MrO. 
78  Dachesa  Si. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

In  Two  Flats 

Continued  from  pagellS. 

"Never  mind  !"  said  Mrs.  Gardiner. 
"Never  mind  the  cream,  Katie  !  But 
do  tell  me"— her  gaze  wandered'depre- 
catingly  to  Mary,  wonderingly  to  Dale 
and  back  to  rest  demandingly  on^ Katie. 
"Why  are  you  in  Miss  Meredith's 
kitchen  ?" 

"What  !"  murmured  Mr.  Robertson 
weakly,  but  no  one  heard  him  except 
Mary.    Her  eyes  danced  suddenly. 

"Our  stove's  broke,"  sniffed  Katie, 
"and " 

"Oh  !  good  gracious  !"  cried  Mrs. 
Gardiner.  Her  face  broke  into  irre- 
pressible smiling;  she  went  up  to  Mary 
with  outstretched  hands  and  appealing 
laughter  in  her  eyes.  "Isn't  it  too 
perfectly  dreadful!"  she  said.  "I've 
been  waiting  andj  waiting  for  you  to 
call  on  me.  I  saw  you  on  the  stairs 
the  first  day  I  came  and  fell  in  love 
with  you.  And  here  am  I — and  my 
household — taking  possession  of  your 
kitchen.  That's  always  the  way," 
plaintively,  "when  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  to  make  a  really  good  impression. 
And  I'd  like  to  know,  Dale  Robertson," 
she  whirled  accusingly  on  her  cousin, 
"how  in  the  world  you  got  in  here  !" 
Her  very  evident  intention  to  find 
some  one  to  blame  as  a  relief  for  her 
feelings  sent  them  all  into  laughter. 
Even  Mary  smiled;  whereupon  Mrs. 
Gardiner  caught  her  hands  again.  "If 
you  would  only  come  back  with  us," 
she  begged,  "I  should  feel  that  you 
were  going  to  forgi\e  me  !  Do  say 
you'll    come  !" 

And  Mary,  protesting,  but  not  too 
hard,  found  herself  swept  out  of  her 
own  apartment,  and  into  Mrs.  Gar- 
diner's, the  center  of  a  laughing,  ques- 
tioning group  of  Mrs.  Ciardiner's  guests. 
Mr.  Robertson  was  beside  her.  He 
answered  the  questions.  His  tone  was 
easily  explanatory.  "And  I  happened 
to  catch  sight  of  the  frescoes,"  he 
ended,  "and  they  were  such  awfully 
good  work  that  I  went  across." 


65 


The  door  of  apartment  C  took  some 
time  to  unlock,  but  Dale  Robertson 
accomplished  it  finally. 

"Didn't  Mrs.  Gardiner  say  she  was 
going  to  call  on  you  to-morrow  ?"  he 
asked. 

Mary  nodded. 

"I  shall  call  also,"  he  said.  "I  am 
going  to  do  my  apologies  on  the  instal- 
ment plan." 

Mary  smiled — a  little. 

"And  didn't  Mrs.  Gardiner  say,"  he 
went  on,  "that  she  fell  in  love  with  you 
the  first  time  she  saw  you  ?" 

"Ye.s,"  returned  Mary,  from  the 
shelter  of  her  own  doorway. 

"That  runs  in  the  family,  also,"  he 
said. 


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New  York's  Rendezvous  for  Canadians 

Every  day  brings  new  Canadian  visitors  to  this  hotel,  recommended 
by  previous  guests  from  the  Dominion  who  have  enjoyed  the  spirit  of 
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HOTEL  MARTINIQUE 

BROADWAY  AND  32ND  STREET 

CHARLES  LEIGH  TAYLOR,  Presiiknl  WALTER  S.  GILSON,  Vice-President 

WALTER  CHANDLER,  JR.,  Manager 

The  rates  at  this  hotel  are  exceedingly  low  with  a  splendid  room,  con- 
venient to  bath,  for  $2.00  per  day,  a  pleasant  room  and  bath  for  $2.50  per 
day,  a  choice  table  d'hote  dinner  for  $1.50,  and  a  club  breakfast  (that  has 
no  equal  m  America)  for  60c.  The  hotel  is  magnificently  appointed  and 
IS  in  the  very  centre  of  everything  worth  seeing,  hearing  or  buying.  Litera- 
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agents, 

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MONTREAL 


111 


Iiii|h5 

'M'llllllliii 


HOTEL  GRISWOLD 

POSTAL  HOTEL  COMPANY,  Proprietors 

Griswold  Street  and  Grand  River  Ave. 
EUROPEAN  PLAN 

Rates  -  $1.50  per  day  and  up. 

DETROIT      -      MICH. 


FRED  POSTAL, 


CHAS.  L.  POSTAL, 

Stertlmf. 


The  Confidence's 
Last  Tow 

Continued  from  page  12. 

izeft  wrecking  crew  were  able  to  size  up 
their  job.  The  broken  rudderpost, 
the  cause  of  the  trouble,  could  be  seen, 
and  below  it  the  huge  steel  rudder 
swimg  aimlessly,  moved  back  and  forth 
by  the  passing  rollers.  The  boat  had 
evidently  been  pretty  well  pounded  in 
the  high  wind,  though  she  showed  no 
serious  injury.  "It's  been  a  mess  of 
a  crew,"  said  old  Andy,  who  had  come 
out  to  size  up  the  situation.  "Likely 
a  lot  of  green  hands  they  picked  up  in 
Montreal  who  wanted  to  get  out  West. 
Perkins  always  had  a  deuce  of  a  time 
keejjin'  his  men.  They  never  would 
stand  by  'im.  You  remember,  Jim," 
turning  to  Brockel,  "the  time  he  had 
on  the  old  Cuba  ?" 

In  the  meantime  one  of  the  boys  had 
scurried  together  some  breakfast,  and 
the  men  on  the  Confidence,  now  in 
touch  with  operations,  were  in  high 
spirits.  The  hot  coffee  and  biting 
morning  air  wiped  out  any  trace  of 
sleepiness  which  might  have  come  as  a 
result  of  their  all-night  of  work  and 
waiting. 

"First,  we'll  get  aboard  and  look  her 
over,"  said  Brockel,  taking  Andy  and 
a  couple  of  the  most  experienced  men 
with  him  in  the  tug's  small  dingy. 

The  Confidence  was  run  back  and 
forth  during  the  ten  minutes  of  exami- 
nation.   Then  Andy  appeared  on  deck. 

"Looks  as  tight  as  a  rivet,"  he  sang 
out.  "Not  a  sign  o' water  below.  And 
she's  piled  up  all  over  with  iron  pipe 
and  cases.  Stuff  on  the  main  deck's 
shifted  pretty  badly." 

After  a  minute  or  two  Brockel  him- 
self came  on  deck  and  his  plans  became 
apparent. 

"We'll  get  a  strain  on  her  here,"  he 
shouted,  from  the  stern,  "and  try  and 
straighten  her  out  a  bit.  Send  over  a 
couple  of  them  big  hawsers." 

About  this  time,  too,  smoke  began  to 
pour  in  a  gust  from  the  big  funnel. 

"Huh  !"  grunted  Charlie  Dean  from 
the  door  of  the  tug's  engine  room, 
where  he  was  trying  to  keep  an  eye  on 
the  new  steam  gauge  and  on  the  outside 
operations  at  the  same  time.  "Going 
to  use  her  own  engines,  ^h  ?  This  tub 
may  not  have  so  hard  a  time  after  all." 

Then  the  real  test  came.  Two  lines 
of  heavy  hawsers  were  made  fast  on 
both  craft,  and  Brockel  came  aboard 
the  tug  again  the  better  to  watch  the 
effects  of  her  efforts. 

"Easy  at  first,  Charlie,"  he  directed, 
as  the  long  stretch  of  cable  tightened 
up.  "We'll  have  to  see  how  this  end 
of  the  apparatus  will  behave." 

The  little  Confidence  went  to  her  big 
task  willingly.  Notch  by  notch,  as  the 
strain   came  on  the  hawsers,   Charlie 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


67 


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^>HONB,  GERRY  728 

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68 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


OVER  THE  ROOF  OF  NORTH  AMERICA  via  the 

CANADIAN  PACIFIC 

The  CANADIAN  ROCKIES 

Five  Hundred  Miles  of  unparalleled  scenery.        Two  Thousand  peaks  to  climb. 
Ponies  and  Guides  for  the  Mountain  trails.  Excellent  Hotels. 

Golf,  Tennis,  Swimming,  Fishing  and  other  forms  of  outdoor  sport 
amid  surroundings  unequalled. 

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GLACIER  BALFOUR 

Are  ri  sorts  nestling  amongst  the  glittering  snow  capped  peaks  where  the  Canadian 
Pacific  operate  luxurious  hotels,  con\eniently  located  in  the  heart  of  the  most 
picturesque  regions 

Get  "Resorts  in  the  Canadian  Rockies"  from  any  Canadian  Pacific  Agent 
and  know  "What  to  do"  and  "What  to  see"  at  these  idyllic  spots. 


C.  E.  E.  USSHER,  Passenger  TraflSc  Manager,  Canadian  Pacific  Railway, 

MONTREAL,  QUE. 


HOTEL     LENOX 

North  St.  at  Delaware  Ave., 

BUFFALO,    N.  Y. 

Most  beautiful  location  for  a  city  hotel  in 
America.  Away  from  the  dust  and  noise. 
Modern  and  fireproof. 

EUROPEAN     PLAN. 

Write  for  rates,  also  compHmentary  "Guide 
of  Buffalo  and  Niagara  Falls." 

C.  A.  MINER,  Manager. 


pushed  over  the  valve  lever  till  the 
old  engine  began  to  pant  like  a  winded 
greyhound.  There  was  a  good  deal  of 
creaking  around  the  towing  frames  in 
the  stern  as  the  strain  increased  and  a 
sudden  crack  as  the  new  braces  sprung 
into  place  caused  a  couple  of  the  boys 
who  were  standing  watching  the  cables 
to  jump  back  to  the  rail.  The  little 
craft  shivered  as  the  hundred  horse- 
power of  her  engine  was  applied  and  the 
upward  pull  drove  her  stubby  nose  into 
the  three-foot  swells  so  that  some  of 
them  broke  on  her  deck,  but  the  strain 
on  the  cables  was  steady. 

One  minute,  two,  three — it  seemed 
half  an  hour  to  the  watchers,  and 
Brockel  was  about  to  pull  the  signal 
bell  to  ease  off, — when  slowly,  almost 
imperceptibly,  the  stern  of  the  freighter 
began  to  move  to  the  east.  Another 
minute,  when  it  became  evident  that 
the  tug  was  gaining  ground,  and  a  cheer 
burst  out  simultaneously  from  the 
watchers  on  both  craft. 

Twenty  minutes  later  the  stranded 
steamer  stood  at  right  angles  to  the 
beach  and  the  puffing  tug  eased  off  to 
take  up  a  new  position. 

"We'll  try  a  straight  pull  at  her, 
Brockel  next  directed.  "If  she  won't 
come  now  she's  got  to  a  little  later 
when  Andy  gets  her  engines   started. 

The  little  crew  of  hard-headed 
fighters  put  in  a  strenuous  morning. 
Even  with  her  own  engines  at  their  best 
under  Andy's  direction  and  with  the 
full  power  of  the  tug  the  freighter 
refused  to  yield  an  inch  of  her  nose 
from  her  sandy  bed.  Then  about  noon, 
in  desperation,  Brockel  put  the  bulk  of 
his  crew  at  her  donkey  engines,  dumped 
a  quarter  of  the  main  deck  cargo  over- 
board, and  shifted  a  hundred  tons  or 
so  of  the  stuff  in  the  forward  holds  to 
the  stern. 

Then  with  the  steam  roaring  from  the 
escape  valves  of  both  boats,  the  strug- 
gle was  renewed. 

The  old  Confidence  had  been  groan- 
ing considerably  during  her  biggest 
efforts  but  her  engineer  had  been  too 
busy  following  the  movements  outside 
to  notice  it.  Now,  when  what  must 
be  the  supreme  test  had  come,  Charlie 
Dean  had  put  in  an  enormous  fire  of 
the  quick-burning  coal,  had  tied  down 
his  safety  valve  and  with  the  pressure 
sixty  pounds  above  the  danger  point 
was  awaiting  the  signal  for  full  speed 
ahead. 

When  it  came,  and  he  felt  the  stern 
of  the  little  boat  lift  as  the  strain  came 
on  the  big  cable,  he  said  to  himself, 
"Now  or  never,"  and  shoved  the 
throttle  lever  hard  over.  For  a  minute 
the  old  crank  shaft  whirled  around, 
driven  ^bout  a  third  faster  than  usual 
by  the  pressure  behind  it,  and  the  big 
screw  churned  around  under  the  boat's 
stern,  pulling  her  lower  and  lower. 
Then,  just  as  there  came  an  instinctive 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


69 


yielding  on  the  part  of  the  big  hull 
ashore,  with  her  own  engines  doing  their 
part,  when  the  watchers  on  both  decks, 
keyed  up  taut  by  the  day's  operations, 
were  ready  to  shout  with  triumph  and 
relief,  when  the  big  cable,  running  at  a 
long  angle  from  the  towing  frames  of 
the  tug  to  the  stern  bitts  of  the  freight- 
er, was  singing  in  the  strain  like  a 
gigantic  aeolian  harp,  then — . 

"Crack,"  went  something  in  the 
after-hold  of  the  Confidence.  The  tug 
jumped  forward  for  a  moment,  then 
stopped  with  a  jerk,  then  went  on 
again. 

"Crunkle,  crack,"  came  again  to 
Charlie's  ears  from  behind  him,  as  he 
jumped  over  to  ease  the  racing  engine. 
At  the  same  moment  a  cheer  from  the 
Strathcona  came  down  to  his  ears. 

He  sprang  through  the  engine-room 
door  to  the  deck  and  rushed  to  the 
stern.  On  the  way  he  noticed  in  a 
hurried  glance  that  the  Strathcona  was 
off  and  coming  stern-foremost  toward 
them.  He  noticed  too,  all  in  an  instant, 
that  the  hawsers  hung  limp  over  her 
stern. 

Then  he  saw  what  had  happened. 

The  Confidence's  deck  behind  the 
deck  house  looked  as  if  a  chunk  of 
dynamite  had  struck  it.  A  gaping  hole, 
with  the  jagged  ends  of  the  planks, 
some  rai.sed,  some  shoved  downward, 
showed  in  the  middle.  Stuck  up 
through  this  was  the  end  of  one  of  the 
twelve-inch  brace  beams  from  below. 

"Where's" he  started  to  say,  in 

amazement,  looking  for  the  two  huge 
posts  of  the  towing  frames. 

Jim  Biggar,  who  was  standing  at  the 
rail  laughing,  waved  his  hand  over  the 
stem  and  Charlie  saw  the  wreckage 
come  up  on  one  of  the  swells. 

"Yanked  the  frames  clean  out  of  the 
braces,"  said  Biggar.  "I  thought  all 
her  insides  were  comin'  up." 

"Engine  all  right  ?"  queried  Brockel, 
a  little  anxiously,  picking  himself  up 
from  one  side  where  he  had  been 
knocked  by  the  loose  hawser,  and  rub- 
bing his  hip. 

"Yep,"  returned  Charlie  with  a  grin. 
Then  remembering  suddenly  that  his 
steam  pressure  must  be  climbing,  he 
dashed  back  to  the  engine  room. 

When  he  let  the  safety  valve  oflF  with 
a  bang  and  started  the  injector  he 
jumped  down  into  the  bunker  to  close 
the  dampers.  It  was  dark  down  there 
and  he  was  mightily  surprised  when 
he  lit  with  a  splash  in  two  inches  of 
water. 

"Good  Lord  !"  he  said,  "that  crack 
must  have  opened  her  up  aft." 

In  a  minute,  Brockel,  who  had  been 
looking  through  the  hole  in  the  deck 
in  an  endeavor  to  estimate  the  extent 
of  the  damage,  poked  his  head  in  the 
door. 

"There's  a  stream  as  big  as  my  leg 
pourin'  in  through  the  bottom  strakes," 


GBfeSS„ 


SPRING 
FISHING 


ALGONQUIN 

PROVINCIAL 

(ONTARIO) 

PARK 

A  Thoroughly  Universal 
Vacation  Territory 


I7-lb.  Lake  Trout,  Grand  Prize  Wirmer  in 
Field  and  Stream  Contest,  1913.  Caught  in 
Ragged  Lake,  Algonquin  Park,  Ont. 


OPEN 

SEASON 

FOR 

FISH 


Speckled  Trout,  May  1st  to  Sept.  14th 

Salmon  Trout,  Dec.  1st  to  Oct.  31st 
following  year 

Black  Bass,  June  16th  to  April  14th 
following  year 


Highland  Inn,  Algonquin  Park 

Affords  Excellent  Hotel  Accommodation 

Beautifully  Situated  2,000  ft.  Above  Sea  Level 

Rates,  $2.50  to  $3.00  per  day. 

$16.00  to  $18.00  per  week. 

For  advertising  matter  and  all  particulars  apply  to  any  agent  of  the  System, 
including  J.  Quintan,  D.P.A.,  Bonaventure  Station,  Montreal;  or  C.  E.  Horning, 
Union  Station,  Toronto. 


G.  T.  BELL, 

Passenger  Traffic  Manager, 

MONTREAL. 


H.  G.  ELLIOTT, 

General  Passenger  Agent, 

MONTREAL. 


70 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


JHE 

ATLANTIC 
ROYALS 


NEXT  SAILINGS 

From  MONTREAL  and  QUEBEC  From  BRISTOL. 

Steamer. 

Tues.,  May  5,  1914 ROYAL  GEORGE   Wed.,  May  20,  1914 

Tues.,  May  19,    "     ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  June    3,     " 

Tues.,  June  2,    "     ROYAL  GEORGE Wed.,  June  17,     " 

Tues.,  June  16,    "     ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  July     1,     " 

Tues.,  June  30,  "     ROYAL  GEORGE   Wed.,  July  15,     " 


Before  Booking  by  another  Line 

GET  AT  THESE  FACTS- 
SAFETY  ?         ACCOMMODATION  ? 
SERVICE?        CUISINE? 

Our  Representative  will  be  glad  to  discuss  them 
personally  or  by  letter  addressed  to 

52  King  Street,  East,  Toronto,  Ont. 

593  Main  Street,  Winnipeg,  Man. 

228  St.  James  Street,  Montreal,  Que. 

123  Hollis  Street,  Halifax,  N.  S. 
Canada  Life  Bldg.,  Prince  William  Street,  St.  John,  N.  B. 

CANADIAN  NORTHERN  STEAMSHIPS,  Limited 


he  shouted,  with  his  face  even  a  little 
more  anxious.  "Has  it  reached  you  yet  ?" 

"Up  to  me  ankles,"  sang  out  Charlie, 
who  by  this  time  had  a  light  below, 
"an'  comin'  fast." 

"Looks  as  if  we'd  have  to  beach  her," 
said  Brockel  in  his  turn.  "Jim  and 
Dick  are  on  the  pumps  but  they  might 
as  well  bail  with  a  hat.  Dang  !"  he 
went  on,  "it's  too  d — n  bad.  Just  as 
we  got  her  off  too.  Nothin'  now  but 
to  pull  her  home  an'  this  puts  the  spike 
in  the  whole  business." 

"What's  that  ?"  said  old  Andy,  who 
on  the  sign  that  something  was  ser- 
iously wrong,  had  left  his  engines  on  the 
Strathcona  and  made  his  way  over  in 
the  dingy.  Then,  taking  in  the  situa- 
tion, as  he  heard  the  roll  of  water 
below,  "You've  cracked  her  open,  have 
ye,  Charlie  ?  I  was  afraid  o'  it."  Then 
to  Brockel.  "We  cud  rebuild  her 
engines  but  could  hardly  put  on  a  new 
hull  in  a  night,  could  we,  Jim  ?" 

"I'm  afraid  she's  done  for,"  Charlie 
observed,  after  they  listened  a  moment 
to  the  rushing  water.  It's  gained 
three  inches  in  the  last  five  minutes. 
In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  it'll  reach  the 
fires." 

All  three,  old  Andy  on  his  knees  gaz- 
ing into  the  bunker,  Charlie  in  the 
water,  his  hand  on  one  of  the  dampers, 
Brockel,  looking  out  through  the  door 
to  the  Strathcona,  now  lying  a  hundred 
yards  off,  were  silent  for  a  moment, 
thinking  deeply,  while  the  water  swish- 
ed below  as  the  tug  settled  a  little  by 
the  stern. 

Then  old  Andy  jumped  up  and  hit 
Brockel  a  crack  in  the  ribs  that  nearly 
sent  him  backward. 

"We  kin  do  it,"  he  said,  exultantly. 
"There's  a  pump  in  her,"  pointing  to 
the  Strathcona,  "that  'ud  suck  the 
rotten  bottom  right  out  of  this  craft, 
an'  all  the  lake  with  ut.  I  tried  it  on 
the  bilge  just  before  I  left  her.  Get 
her  alongside  and  I'll  run  half  a  dozen 
lines  o'  hose  down  and  pump  her  out 
for  ye." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer  he 
jumped  over  the  side  into  the  dingy 
and  sculled  off  at  a  racing  pace  for  the 
larger  boat. 

Fortunately  the  wind  had  dropped 
to  a  zephyr  and  in  consequence  the 
swells  had  almost  disappeared.  It 
was  easy  enough  to  get  the  Confidence 
alongside,  and  five  minutes  later,  Andy 
had  half  a  dozen  lines  of  fire  hose  run 
from  the  big  pump  down  through  the 
hole  in  the  tug's  deck,  and  a  small 
Niagara  was  pouring  from  the  freight- 
er's discharge  pipes. 

"That'll  keep  her  afloat  all  right," 
Brockel  said,  as  he  watched  the  water 
in  the  engine  room  hold  recede.  "The 
next  problem  is  how  to  get  the  Strath- 
cona to  port.  I  wonder  if  we  could 
tie  up  here  alongside  and  take  her  in 
that  way  ?" 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


71 


iiiiMiiiiiiiMiiiimMiiiuiifiiiiriiiiniiiMiiiiiPiiiiiBinnitmiuiiMnniinnw 


Get  Your 
«  Canadian  Home 

from  the 

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HY  farm  on  high-priced,  worn  out  lands  when  thq 
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The   Canadian    Pacific   Railway    Company  offers  you   the    finest  irrigated   and  non- 
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and  you  are  given  20  years  to  fully  repay  the  loatt.     You  pay  only  the  interest  of  6  per  cent. 

Advance  of  Live  Stock  on  Loan  Basis 

The  Company,  in  the  case  of  the  approved  land  purchaser  who  is  in  a  position  to  take 
care  of  his  stock,  will  advance  cattle,  sheep  and  hogs  to  the  value  of  $1,000  on  a  loan  basis. 

Magnificent  soil,  good  climate,  good  market,  excellent  schools,  good  government,  all 
are  awaiting  you  in  Western  Canada;  and  a  great  Railway  Company  whose  interest  is  to  help 
you  to  succeed,  is  offering  you  the  pick  of  the  best.    The  best  land  is  bcmg  taken  first.   Don't 
wait.  Ask  for  our  free  books  today.  Learn  why  133,700  Americans  from  the  best  farming 
states  in  the  United  States  moved  to  Western  Canada  in  twelve  months.     Thousands  are 
getting  the  choicest  farms.  Why  shouldn't  you,  too,  share  in  the  rapid  development,  and  the 
great  increase  in  values  that  are  taking  place  in  these 
three  great  Prairie  Provinces,  where  you  can  easily 
get  a  farm  that  will  make  you  more  money  for  life 
than  you  can  earn  farming  in  any  other  place  on  the 
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rn" 


I 


CANADIAN  PACIFIC  RAILWAY 

Dept.  of  Natural  Resources 
20  Ninth  Avenue  West,  Calgary,  Alberta 

FOR  SALEl     Town  lota  in  all  urowini  towni.      Ask  for  information  con- 
cerning Industrial  and  Buftinet«op«nint[t  in  all  towni. 


I 


Information  on  busineu  and  industrial     I       I  n       ■  lUi       -a    1. 

opportunitie*  in  Weitern  Canada  I I  DOOK  Oil  IVIanitOOa 

I I  Book  on  Alberta-Saskatchewan  LJ  Irrigation  Farming 

(Make  a  cross  in  Ilie  sqiiari'  oppositu  tlit  biM.k  wunlcil) 

Addnn:  Canadian  Pacific  Ry.,   Dept.  of  Natural  Re«ource* 
20  Ninth  Avenue  West,  Calgary,  AlberU 

I'leasc  send  me  the  bool<s  indicated  above. 


Pror-ince 


%\ 


<^^...y^';tnniiiiniiiiitiiiiiiiiitniiittiiififiiiiiiiiiiimniiiniiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniintirnmmntiiiiii»iiifiiiiiiiiitnniniiintiiiiiintiiiMi 


I  Cam*»a  Momblt  \ 


72 


Prevent  5Kin 
BlemisJies 


By  Using 


Cutlciim5oap 
ana  Ointment 

They  do  so  much  to  promote  and 
maintain  the  purity  and  beauty  of 
the  complexion,  hands  and  hair  un- 
der all  conditions,  and  are  unexcelled 
in  purity,  delicacy  and  fragrance  for 
the  toilet  and  nursery. 

• 

Culicura  Soap  and  Ointment  sold  tbrougbout  the 
world.  Liberal  sample  of  each  mailed  Tree,  with 
32-p.  book.    Address  "Cutlcura."  Dept.   133.  Beaton. 

la^Men  who  shave  and  shampoo  with  Cutlcura 
SoaD  will  find  It  best  tor  akin  and  scaln. 


Children 
Teething 

Mothers  ihould  give  only  the  well-known 


Doctor  Stedman's 
teething  powders 


MARK 


The  nuny  millions  that  are  annually  nsed 
eonitltute  the  best  testimonial  in  Aelr  fa- 
Tor,  they  are  guaranteed  by  the  proprietor 
to  be  absolutely  free  from  opium. 
See  the  Trade  Mark,  a  Gum  Lancet,  on 
•very  packet  and  powder.  Refuse  all 
not  BO  distinguished. 

Small  Packets,  9  Powders 
Large  Packets,  30  Powders 

0FALL0HEMI8T8  AND  ORUa  STtREI. 
MANUFAOTOriV:  1H  HEW  NORTH  ROAD,  LONDON,  ENIUND. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

You  have  seen  busy  little  tugs  puffing 
up  the  harbor  frequently  enough  with 
a  scow  of  refuse  or  concrete  fill  tied  up 
along  one  side.  Many  a  time  in  the 
past  on  ehort  tows  and  with  weather 
permitting  tlie  Confidence  had  done 
her  workitiiat  way.  The  present  sug- 
gestion, however,  was  rather  a  differ- 
ent undertaking.  With  her  greater 
length  and  mucli  higher  freeboard  the 
Strathcona  was  anything  but  a  scow, 
and^was  rather  a  formidable  tow  to  tie 
up  to,  particularly  in  the  tug's  weak- 
ened condition.  Precedent  goes  by  the 
board,  however,  on  occasions  '^uch  as 
this  one,  and  while  two  or  threi,  cf  the 
crew  said  it  couldn't  be  done,  no  other 
wayjsuggested  itself,  and  after  half  an 
hour's  work,  the  signal  lor  "slow, 
ahead"  was  given  on  both  boats,  and 
after  a  minute  of  anxiety  the  two — the 
reclaimed  freighter,  sound  but  for  her 
rudder,  and  its  rescuer — with  a  mighty 
engine,  but  a  sieve-like  hull,  whose  very 
life  depended  on  her  larger  convoy — 
neither  navigable  without  the  other — 
started  gingerly  down  the  lake. 

Fortunately  the  wind  had  dropped 
completely,  and  the  swell  had  fallen 
with  it  so  that  the  interdependent  craft 
were  blessed  with  favorable  conditions. 

Charlie  Dean  nursed  the  Confidence 
along  carefully. 

"We'll  let  the  big  brute  do  her  own 
share,  now,"  he  said  to  himself.  "That 
pump  of  Andy's  seems  all  right,  but 
I  don't  want  to  shake  the  bottom  off 
her  altogether." 

A  little  after  ten  that  night  watchers 
on  the  town  docks  saw  a  couple  of 
lights,  one  low,  the  other  high,  swing 
slowly  round  the  end  of  the  islands  and 
begin  to  move  down  the  harbor.  In 
ten  mmutes  seemingly  the  whole  town 
was  on  the  waterfront,  and  a  score  of 
whistles  were  tooting  to  aid  in  the 
welcome. 

Very  slowly  the  two  boats  swjng 
round  to  make  the  C.  P.  R.  slip,  l^e 
tug's  small  rudder  did  good  work  but 
to  do  rapid  duty  for  both  craft  was 
beyond  its  power.  Then,  even  more 
slowly  they  crept  into  the  range  of  the 
maze  of  lights  and  into  the  Strath- 
cona's  dock. 

Curran  was  the  first  to  shake  hands 
with  Brockel  as  he  stepped  ashore  amid 
the  welcoming  crowd. 

"Great  work,  Jim  !  So  you  weren't 
ragging  me  after  all,"  was  his  greeting. 
"We'll  be  able  to  use  the  Confidence 
again  next  summer,  won't  we  ?  But 
what  did  you  bring  her  in  that  way 
for  ?" 

Brockel  led  him  a  little  to  one  side 
and  pointed  to  the  quivering  lines  of 
hose  over  the  Strathcona's  port  side. 

"The  Confidence  has  made  her  last 
trip,"  he  said.  "Half  her  bottom's 
lying  with  her  towing  frames  back  on 
the  shore  of  Thorn  Island.  She's  only 
floatin'  because  we're  pumping  the  lake 


paddle  out  to  the  open  bn-cies  or  tlie  btill.  tree-gh»doM<Ml 
pool— you'll  get  a  new  intlmai-'y  with  natun-  and  a  new  grip 
on  hffllth. 

PETERBOROUGH 
CANOES 

insure  your'gettlng  all  th-'  pl-asurr*  of  ■anoeing. 

Peterborough  Canoes  are  light  and  speedy— they  are  built 
of  the  best  of  materials  by  the  most  skilled  craftsmen— to 
last  for  yeirs. 

Look  for  the  Peterborough  Tra-le  Mark  on  the  deck. 


Write  for  Catalogue. 

Pete  rborough 
Canoe    Company 

283  Water  St. 
Peterborough,         -        Ont. 


up  through  'er.     But  she's  got  a  great 
old  engine." 

They  held  a  banquet  in  the  Mc- 
Quarrie  and  Curran  offices  a  little  later 
— ^an  affair  which  Curran  in  an  instinc- 
tive mood  had  hurriedly  arranged 
earlier  in  the  evening.  The  Confi- 
dence's temporary  crew,  sleepiness 
again  held  off  by  excitement,  were  the 
guests  of  honor,  with  the  mayor  and 
the  town's  big  guns  ranged  down  the 
other  side. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


One  chair  at  the  head  was  empty  for 
awhile  and  when  Jim  Brockel  came  in 
everyone  noticed  that  he  looked  rather 
sad. 

"I've  been  paying  my  last  respects," 
he  said  hesitatingly, — for  he  hated  a 
crowd, — when  he  had  been  forced  to  his 
feet  in  his  turn,  "to  as  noble  a  bit  of 
workmanship  as  man  ever  turned  out. 

"The  little  old  Confidence  has  made 
her  last  trip,"  he  went  on  "She's  lying 
now  on  her  side  in  the  end  of  the  slip 
just  behind  the  machine  shop,"  point- 
ing suggestively  through  the  office 
wall,  "where  she  went  down  five 
minutes  ago.  We  could  hardly  get  her 
round  from  the  C.  P.  R.  dock  after  they 
stopped  the  Strathcona's  pump." 


The  old  Confidence  still  lies  there. 
V'ou  can  see  her  any  time,  or  what's 
left  of  her — -most  of  her  rail  and  deck- 
house rotted  away  and  the  old  funnel 
full  of  rust-eaten  holes,  lying  at  a 
drunken  angle  across  the  top  frame- 
work. 

There's  a  new  Confidence,  though,  a 
spic  and  span  sixty-foot  yacht,  with 
wireless  radials  across  her  masts,  and 
all  the  appointments  you  can  imagine 
tied  up  alongside  the  new  concrete 
dock.  There's  a  new  name  on  the 
firm's  letter  head  too.  It's  now  "Cur- 
ran  and  Brockel."  Jim  bought  old 
man|McQuarrie's  share  in  the  business 
with  his  share  of  the  salvage. 

"Yes,"  he  mused  the  other  day,  as 
I  asked  about  the  story,  "The  Confi- 
dence's last  tow  was,  I  guess,  the  best 
job  she  ever  did.  I  often  think  I'll 
yank  her  up  and  put  her  on  the  ways. 
She  deserves  a  better  graveyard." 


Greta  Greer 

Contintied  from  page  21. 

His  gaze  travelled  back,  a  form  was 
being  lifted  into  the  life  boat,  and  the 
men  were  bending  to  the  oars.  They. 
were  in  the  shadow  of  the  ship  and 
Dare  could  not  distinguish  any  one, 
but  as  a  very  faint  cheer  rose  to  the 
lips  of  the  onlookers,  there  came  to 
him  one  of  those  inexplicable  flashes  of 
intuition  upon  which  he  always  relied 
and  acted.  He  thrilled  with  the  certain 
knowledge  that  Greta  Greer  stood  beside 
him  in  the  crowd. 

Turning,  he  faced  her. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  captain  stepped  forward  and 
laid  a  stern  hand  on  Billy  Cunning- 
ham's dripping  shoulder. 

The  passengers  stood  aloof,  gaped 
.lud  whispered  among  themselves,  all 
except  Dare  and  his  companion,  who 
moved  near  Captain  Myles  and  waited 
for  him  to  speak. 

But  Cunningham  opened  the  con- 
versation. 

"Ellis,  my  boy,  lend  me  a  dry  hand- 


73 

The  Secret  of  Beauty 

is  a  clear  velvety  skin  and  a  youthful  complexion. 
If  you  value  your  good  looks  and  desire  a 
perfect  complexion,  you  must  use  Beet  ham's 
La-rota.  It  possesses  unequalled  qualities  for 
imparting  a  youthful  appearance  to  the  skin 
and  complexion  of  its  users.  La-rola  is  delicate 
and  fragrant,  quite  greaseless,  and  is  very 
'  pleasant  to  use.  Get  a  bottle  to-day,  and  thus 
ensure    a   pleasing    and  attractive  complexion. 


LINABESTOS 
Building  Board 

MAKES    FIREPROOF,    SANITARY 
WALLS   AND   CEILINGS 

Don't  think  of  Linabestos  as  just 
another  building  board  !  It  is  some- 
thing entirely  different !  There  is  no 
paper  about  it — no  fibre  board — no  tar 
or  asphalt  compounds.  It  is  made  of 
Portland  Cement  and  Asbestos,  in  solid, 
compact  sheets  3/16  inch  thick,  42 
inches  wide,  and  4  or  8  feet  long. 

Being  absolutely  fireproof,  Linabestos 
checks  a  blaze  instead  of  feeding  it. 

Linabestos  is  particularly  desirable  for 
kitchens,  bathrooms  and  finished  base- 
ments, where,  with  a  coat  of  paint,  it 
gives  a  perfect  sanitary  finish — and  ceil- 
ings that  will  never  crack  nor  fall.  It  is 
well  suited,  too,  for  offices,  halls  and 
dining  rooms,  where  a  panelled  finish  is 
most  effective. 

Write  for  a  sample  ot  Linabestos  and 
Folder  17,  giving  full  information  about  it. 


An  attractive  LINABESTOS  finish  in  the 
office  of  Wm.  Rutherford  &  Son  jCo., 
Limited,  one  of  Montreal's  Leading  Lumber 
Dealers.  They  are  so  well  satisfied  that 
they  are  now  selling  LINABESTOS. 


ASBESTOS  MANUFACTURING  CO.,  LIMITED 

Addreaa:— E.  T.  Bank  Bld^.,  263  SI.  James  Street,  Montreal 
Factory  al  Lncbiae,  P.Q.  (near   Montreal) 


kerchief,  won't  you  ?"  he  said  quite 
naturally.  "That  was  one  of  the  best 
dives  I've  ever  had,  'iX)n  my  word  ! 
Thank  you,  old  man — I'll  keep  it  as 
a  souvenir.  Now,  captain,"  he  con- 
tinued, in  a  somewhat  lower  tone,  "if 
you  will  come  to  my  room,  I  think  1 
can  hold  your  interest  for  a  few 
moments." 

Perhaps  relief,  perhaps  speechless- 
ness at  the  man's  audacity  kept  the 
oiptain  dumb,  as  he  walked  away 
with    Cinmingham. 

The    little    group    dispersed    with 


various  expres.sions  of  indignation  and 
wonderment,  the  ship  trembled  a 
moment,  then  moved  slowly  forward. 

Dare  turned  to  his  companion. 
"You  will  take  cold,"  he  said  in  a  voice 
which  expressed  myriads  of  other 
things. 

The  girl  looked  at  him  suddenly. 
What  she  read  in  his  eyes  startled, 
unnerved  her.  She  trembled  and  her 
eyelids  drooped. 

"I  am  quite  warm,"  she  said  and  the 
tone  of  her  voire  was  throbbing  with 
things  unspoken. 


74 


9 


(XAn^ 


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^/aisde/A 


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CANADA  MONTHLY 

They  moved  to  a  sheltered  spot  and 
sat  down. 

"I  should  like  to  tell  you  the  rest  of 
what  I  commenced  this  evening," 
began  Greta  Greer  almost  timidly, 
"if  you  will  stay  to  hsten.  This  is  our 
last  night  on  board  and  I  may  have 
no  other  Opportunity." 

Dare  put  his  hand  over  hers,  and 
compelled  her  to  return  his  clasp.  Her 
hand  trembled  slightly  and  she  tried 
to  withdraw  it.  The  doctor  thrilled 
as  he  realized  that  the  girl  was  not 
insensible  to  his  influence,  his  touch. 
If  the  personal,  primitive  element 
entered  into  the  struggle,  his  task 
would  not  be  so  difificult. 

"Briefly,"  she  began  again,  "my 
childhood  was  very  unhappy,  and  at 
seventeen  I  ran  away  from  what  should 
have  been  my  home,  with  an  oriental 
named  Karska.  He  was  a  Persian 
who  lectured  on  various  occult  sub- 
jects and  traded  on  his  good  looks  and 
ingratiating  ways  with  woman,  to  fill 
his  houses.  He  was  kind  to  me — very 
— and  I  missed  him  sorely  when  he 
died,  but  my  life,  my  soul  is  tainted 
with  his  mark,  Dr.  Dare, — one  which 
I  despair  of  ever  blotting  out — -he 
taught  me  to  smoke  hashish." 

Dare  started,  and  made  a  slight 
exclamation. 

Hashish  !  Cannibus  Indica  I  per- 
haps the  most  seductive  of  all  drugs. 
And  she  had  smoked  it  for  years. 
That  explained  the  odor  he  could  not 
name — the  reason  the  stewardess  was 
not  permitted  to  enter  her  stateroom — 
the  illness  to  which  she  had  alluded. 
No  wonder  she  looked  at  life  with  eyes 
of  tragic  hopelessness  and  despair. 
He  sought  her  hand  again  and  held  it 
closely.  This  time  she  did  not  shrink, 
but  seemed  to  cling  to  him. 

"For  three  years  I  travelled  with 
him.  We  visited  many  countries  and 
I  have  seen  places  and  people,  world 
wide  travellers  never  dream  of.  At 
first  I  found  many  things  repulsive — - 
then  growing  accustomed  to  oriental 
ways,  I  accepted  them,  and  was  quite 
happy.  My  family,  of  course,  forgot 
my  existence — my  sister  married  a 
title  and  my  brother  made  millions. 
I  did  not  care,  I  had  everything  I 
wanted,  for  we  two,  were  wealthy. 
I  was  burdened  with  gowns,  jewels, 
and  Karska  was  fond  of  me.  When  I 
was  twenty  he  died." 

She  went  on  speaking  without  a 
pause.  Dare's  clasp  was  sufficient 
sympathy. 

"I  had  no  relatives  who  would  want 
me,  and  did  not  care  to  live  with  any 
of  Karska's.  He  had  only  such  fol- 
lowers as  he  made  on  his  trips,  and 
they  were  only  interested  in  me  because 
he  loved  me.  Not  knowing  what  to  do 
with  my.self,  I  began  to  wander,  and 
soon  the  lust  possesseS^me. 

"As  soon  as  I  attracted  unpleasant 
attention   in  one  place,   I  went  some- 


IHE  MOST  POPULAR  PERFIME  IN  DAILY  LSC 

INDISPENSABLE  ON   EVERY   ORESSINC-TABLE 


For  the 
Batb  and  Toilet 

always  use  the  genuine 

MURRAY  Q 

LANMAN'S 
Florida  Water 

Iinlutions  of  this  delicious  ftrfamt 

arc  numberless,  but  it  has 

never  been  eqaalled. 

IT  REFRESHES  AND  DEUCIITX 

th*  do««  no  otli«r. 


AJwmrB  look  for  the  Tr»de  Hark. 

PREPARED    ONLT    BV 

LANMAN  <Sb  KEMP 

NEVr    YORK 

and 
.:M<)N  I  IIKAI. 


REFUSE    SUBSTITUTES! 


Always  b«  (*iir«   to  look  for  our  Trade  Mark 
on  the  neck  of  the  bottle. 


i 

^^ 

1 

K 

/  We  Told  You  So!    \ 

1« 

^ 

\  Labatt's  / 

^ 

■ 

w  ^^^^'  i 

H 

1 

'/ff       Now  Perfected-         W 
^Tlie  l)est  on  the  marketl  ^ 

iffRY  YTM 

i 

John  Labatt  "^r^    London 

LIHITED                    *                         out. 

■ 

where  else  trying  to  be  happy  without 
people.  You  reinember  I  once  told 
you  they  seemed  comtnonplace  and 
irritating — wholly  undesirable  in  com- 
parison with  my  'dream  friends.'  But 
when  you  realize  that  I  did  not  live 
anywhere,  did  not  belong  anywhere, 
that  hotels  and  apartments  were  my 
only  refuge,  that  a  bowing  acquaint- 
ance with  a  few  tourists  was  the  extent 
of  my  social  life,  you  may  realize  what 
I  mean  when  I  say  I  was  lonely.  Of 
course  that  is  not  the  case  now — I 
mean   that  for  one  reason  or  another 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


75 


there  are  many  houses  such  as  Mrs. 
Beaufort's  where  I  am  a  welcome 
guest."  She  made  a  deprecating 
gesture,  "I  speak  many  languages,  you 
know,  and  have  weird  stories  to  tell  of 
people  and  lands,  half  of  which  are 
thought  untrue,  and  because  of  that 
awful  something  which  puts  its  stamp 
on  me,  Dr.  Dare,  I  am  called  interest- 
ing !  But  at  that  time  I  had  none  of 
these  things.  I  was  younger,  and  I  was 
lonely  !  It  was  then  that  I  realized 
what  hashish  would  do  for  me — it 
would  people  my  world  with  ideal 
companions,  my  rooms  would  be  con- 
verted into  palaces  of  untold  luxury 
and  beauty,  my  depressed  spirits 
lightened,  and  I  would  be  made  rad- 
iantly happy.  Fancy  led  me  to  Athens, 
where  I  stayed  two  years.  I  wonder 
whether  you  will  understand  when  I 
say  that  the  life  I  lived  in — my  dreams 
— ^was  the  only  one  which  filled  all  my 
desires  and  completely  satisfied  me. 
Where  hashish  used  to  be  a  sort  of 
recreation  with  Karska,  it  became 
indispensable  to  me  !  I  read  every- 
thing I  could  find  descriptive  of  ancient 
f '.reece,  a  pagan  atmosphere  seemed  to 
niter  my  blood  and  make  a  different 
creature  of  me.  I  read  about  them 
until  those  people  became  intimate 
friends  and  companions  and  their 
homes  quite  familiar  to  me.  I  sat  in 
the  temples,  in  the  ruins,  on  the  old 
walls.  I  had  sacrifices  made  that  I 
might  see  exactly  what  the  ceremony 
was  like.  I  followed  the  route  of  the 
old  processions,  triumphal  through 
arches  and  gates;  I  burned  incense 
until  I  grew  to  find  it  almost  a  neces- 
sity— even  now." 

The  peculiar  odor  which  clung  about 
her  recurred  to  Dare.  Incense,  the 
ordinary  perfume  emanating  from 
feminine  belongings,  cigarettes,  and 
hashish.     No  wonder  he  was  confused  ! 

The  girl  was  trying  to  read  his 
thoughts- — she  looked  earnestly  at  him 
with  eyes  which  implored  him  not 
to  shrink  from  her  weakness  and  be 
disgusted.  She  did  not  excuse  herself, 
she  did  not  whine  nor  complain,  she 
did  not  blame  her  husband — she 
imply  stated  bald  facts,  tragically. 

The  doctor  pressed  her  soft,  sensitive 
hand,  and  said, 

"I  think  I  understand — ^o  on  1" 

"Perhaps  you  don't  appreciate  the 
difference — in  dreams,"  she  stopped 
and  struggled  with  herself.  It  was 
Ixith  a  pain  and  a  relief  to  speak. 

"Yes,  I  do  appreciate  it,"  Dare 
answered  earnestly.  "You  mean  that 
instead  of  Persian  gardens  or  Japanese 
lierry  orchards,  you  prefered  to  dream 
of  Cireece.  It  is  the  way  with  hashish, 
isn't  it  ? — one  can  choose  the  subject 
of  the  visions,  so  to  speak,  by  surround- 
ing oneself  with  approj^riate  para- 
phernalia, and  by  steeping  oneself  in 
the   pictures  desired.     For  that  very 


Have  you  been  waiting 

for  an  Edison 

Disc  Phonograph? 

The  man  who  made  sound  reproduction 
possible— Thomas  A.  Edison— has  now  produced 
a  Phonograph  that  plays  Disc  Records.  He 
has  put  into  this  new  instrument  all  that  35 
years  of  study  in  sound  reproduction  has  taught 
him. 

The  result  is  a  Phonograph  of  rich,  mellow 
tones  and  lifelike  fidelity.  If  you  want  real 
music  ;  if  you  want  permanency  in  your  re- 
producing point ;  if ,  you  want 
records  that  can  be  played  for 
years  without  injury ;  if  you  want 
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motor  with  worm  gear 


112  Lakeside  Ave.,  Orange,  N.  J. 


reason  it  is  so  much  more  seductive 
than  opium  or  any  of  the  other  drugs, 
the  effects  of  which  may  bring  nerve 
racking  fear  and  horror  to  the  user  of 
them.     I  quite  understand." 

The  girl  leaned  forward  and  pressed 
slightly  against  her  companion.  "You 
are  ver>'  Jcind,"  she  said,  "and  if  any 
one  could  make  the  awful  subject  easy, 
you  are  that  one.  Ah,  Dr.  Dare  you 
can't  know  what  it  costs  me  to  speak 
of  it  !" 

A  sudden  jealous  impulse  prompted 
him  to  siiy  — "Mylcs  knows  all  about 


it,"  but  he  checked  it  and  was  silent, 
.^fter  a  moment,  Cireta  Greer  con- 
tinued, "I  stayed  there  two  years. 
I  smoke — "  she  half  closed  her  eyes — ■ 
and  looked  far  away  into  a  picture 
Dare  could  not  sec—  "and  I  live  again 
where  the  old  pagans  breathed;  I  am 
one  with  them;  I  dance,  I  laugh,  I  sing, 
I  float.  Time  and  space  are  nothing 
to  me — I  am  so  happy — until  the 
change  comes,  and  I  look  again  at  four 
walls,  and  hear  the  shriek  of  motors 
and  the  clang  of  discordant  bells, 
when  I  realize  that  I  must  go  abroad 


76 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


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Actual  Size. 


''As  right  as  a  watch." 

SO  small  and  smooth  that 
it  is  .  pocketed  without 
annoyance;  is  instantly  ready 
for  business  without  focusing, 
Fitted  with  Kodak  Ball  Bear- 
ing shutter.  Autotime  scale, 
reversible  finder.  Loads  in 
daylight  with  Kodak  film 
cartridges  of  eight  exposures. 
Pictures  if  x  2^  inches. 

So  accurate  is  this  little 
camera  that  enlargements  can 
be  made  from  the  negatives 
to  any  reasonable  size,  and  at 
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size  (3 J  X  5^),  for  instance,  at 
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Furnished  with  three  different  lens  equipments  : 


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Do.,  with  Kodak  Anastigmat  lens,  Speed /.8        -        .        .  .  13.50 

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TORONTO 


The  clean,  wholesome  smell  of 

WRIGHT'S  Coal  Tar  Soap 

is  in  itself  a  recommendation, 

and    the   freshness    felt    after 

using  is  really  exhilarating. 


Protects  from  Infection. 


12c.  pv^  Tablet. 


amongst  my  kind,  with  a  body  of 
to-day  and  a  soul  of  the  past.  It's 
hideous  !" 

She  drew  her  hand  away  sharply, 
and  covered  her  face  with  it. 

Dare  resisted  the  longing  to  take  her 
in  his  arms,  and  looked  across  the  sea. 
After  a  moment,  Greta  Greer  spoke 
again,  "I  crossed  jierhaps  five  years 
later  with  Gregory  Myles.  He  dis- 
covered my  secret  through  the  garru- 
lousness  of  a  stewardess,  and  tried  to 
help  me.  By  that  time  I  understood 
how  unalterably  set  apart  I  was  from 
people,  and  how  bitter  a  thing  was  a 
long  life  stretching  out  into  lonely 
wastes.  I  wanted  to  be  as  other  people 
but  could  not.  Of  course  I  might  have 
married,  but  even  though  the  men 
would  have  accepted  me  as  I  was — 
like  Gregory — ,  I  could  not  endure 
them  as  compared  with  the  companions 
of  my  dreams." 

"I  see.  But  you  did  begin  to  wish 
you  could  break  from  the  habit  ?" 

"I  did  and  I  did  not.  Naturally,  I 
hated  the  secrecy  of  it  !  always  I  did 
without  a  maid,  after  finding  it  impos- 
sible to  employ  a  woman  who  could 
hold  her  tongue  and  withstand  the 
temptation  of  bribes." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  people 
bribed—' 

The  girl  laughed  and  the  sound  hurt 
Ellis  Dare. 

"Many  a  time  !  You  can  see  the 
result.  While  Karska  lived  I  never 
considered  how  my  actions  might  be 
judged — I  was  never  thrown  with 
people.  But  after  I  was  left  alone 
everything  I  did  was  criticized.  It  did 
not  take  me  long  to  discover  that  I 
might  more  easily  have  soaked  myself 
in  alcohol  and  hoped  for  leniency,  than 
to  look  for  it,  with  my  own  grievous 
weakness.  People  only  forgive  those 
things  which  they  understand.  No 
one  understood  hashish,  consequently 
no  one  could  forgive  it.  I  tried  to 
make  friends  and  smoke  at  the  same 
time.  Then  sooner  or  later  the  secret 
leaked  out  and  I  was  despised,  shunned, 
a  social  outcast,  a  pariah." 

She  spoke  so  bitterly  that  Dare  could 
feel  the  slights,  the  vulgar  curiosity,  the 
indignities  she  had  suffered. 

"You  poor  girl,"  he  whispered,  ten- 
derly. "The  constant  struggle  was  bad 
enough,  but  added  to  that  you  lived  in 
continual  dread  of  being  found  out,  it 
must  have  been — must  be — hell  !  And 
have  you  always  had  to  yield  ?" 

She  nodded  forlornly.  "Yes.  The 
visions  haunt  me,  torture  me.  When 
I  begin  to  feel  the  desire  people  fret 
me,  irritate  me  and  I  show  it.  I  con- 
stantly lost  friends,  when  I  used  to  try 
to  make  them.  I  changed  physically 
too,  I  suppose,  for  my  sister  met  me 
one  day  at  a  reception  and  did  not 
recognize  me.  I  often  cross  with 
people  I  have  known  and  am  a  study 


Ends  One  Half 
the  Corns 

Do  you  know  that 
nearly  half  the  corns  in 
the  country  are  now 
ended  in  one  way? 

Blue-jay  takes  out  a  million 
corns  a  month.  It  frees  from 
corns  legions  of  people  daily. 
Since  its  invention  it  has  ended 
sixty  million  corns. 

The  way  is  quick  and  easy,  pain- 
less and  efficient.  Apply  Blue-jay 
al  night.  From  that  time  on  you 
will  forget  the  corn. 

Then  Blue-jay  gently  undermines 
the  corn.  In  48  hours  the  loosened 
corn  comes  out.  There  is  no  pain, 
no  soreness. 

Don't  pare  your  corns.  There  is 
danger  in  it,  and  it  brings  only  brief 
relief. 

Don't  use  old-time  treatments. 
They  have  never  been  efficient. 

Do  what  millions  do  use  Blue- 
jay.  It  is  modern,  scientific.  And 
it  cnJs  the  corn  completely  in  an 
easy,  pleasant  vfay. 

Blue  =  jay 

For  Corns 

15  and  25  cent*  —  at  Druggiits 

Bauer  &  Black,  Chicago  ud  New  York 
Makers  of  Physicians*  SuppUaa 


THIS 

is  a 

HOME 
DYE 

that 

ANYONE. 


DYOLA' 

^The  Guaranteed  *'ONE  DYE  for 
^  All  Kinds  of  Cloth. 

Clcflfi.  SImpltt.  NoCharM-«  of  MUtak**.  TRY 
I  IT  (  fifnd  for  l^r«>c  Color  f:«rd  and  BookUt. 
■The  JotMi*on-Richard*oo  Co.  I  Jmited.  Mooir»«l 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

and  a  puzzle  to  them.  At  first  that 
used  to  amuse  me;  now,  I  am  haunted 
by  the  ever  present  fear  and  the  old 
torturing  question — do  they  know  ?" 
Gregory  Myles  told  me  of  a  wonderful 
physician  who  would  cure  me.  I  went 
to  him.  While  under  his  treatment, 
I  heard  of  another.  I  went  to  him.  In 
all,  I  have  been  to  fourteen,  and  am  as 
bad  as  ever." 

Dare  remembered  his  conversation 
with  Judson  and  Hobson  when  the 
latter  ■  had  5spoken  of  seeing  Greta 
Greer  3ne  day  in  the  Row,  and  the 
next  in  the  lower  parts  of  London.  He 
did  not  doubt  now  that  she  re-visited 
old  haunts  "of  her  husband's  and 
smoked  in  the  true  Oriental  fashion, 
inhaling  the  smoke  through  a  vessel  of 
water.    He  leaned  a  little  nearer. 

"Were  any  of  the  physicians  hypno- 
tists ?"  he  asked. 

"One.    \yhy  ?" 

He  hesitated,  then  spoke  very 
gently. 

"I  was  thinking  of  the  Beaufort 
jewels,"  he  said. 

At  first  she  did  not  understand,  then 
a  look  of  horror  passed  over  her  face. 

"No,  no,"  she  cried,  "it  was  nothing 
like  that !  Good  God,  is  that  what 
people  think  ?" 

Dare  sat  silent.  On  the  whole  it 
was  as  well  to  let  her  understand  the 
delicacy  of  her  present  position.  She 
was  evidently  realizing  the  menace  of 
the  drug  not  only  to  herself  but  to  her 
friends  as  a  result  of  her  using  it.  He 
was  now  strongly  imbued  with  the 
ideaj  of  thought  suggestion  and  felt 
certain  that  the  girl  had  some  unknown 
force  at  work  compelling  her  to  commit 
crimes  while  she  labored  under  the 
delusion  that  her  love  of  hashish  was 
the  only  thing  to  make  life  the  hope- 
less, tragic  thought  it  was.  Her  appeal 
to  him  for  help  was  an  encoufaging 
sign  and  argued  her  faith  in  him  as 
well  as  her  attraction  toward  him.  But 
Dare  wanted — required  more  than 
that.  He  wanted  some  assurance  of 
his  attraction  for  her,  a  knowledge 
that  she  not  only  wished  to  be  cured  of 
her  weakness  but  that  she  felt  ready 
and  anxious  to  put  herself  unreservedly 
in  his  hands,  that  she  leaned  on  him 
because  of  himself,  and  not  on  account 
of  his  medical  knowledge. 

She  laid  a  shaking  hand  on  his  arm. 

'Tell  me,"  she  implored  with  her 
face  uplifted  and  very  near  his  own, 
"tell  me,  does  Madeline  Beaufort 
connect  me  with  it  ?" 

"I  don't  know — honestly,  I  don't. 
I  have  tried  to  get  at  the  Marconi  man 
who  has  handletl  all  of  Cunningham's 
messages,  but  he  will  tell  me  nothing 
and  I  know  no  more  than  what  I  saw 
in  the  paper  the  day  we  sailed.  How- 
ever you  must  not  worry,  for  Cunning- 
ham thinks  he  has  found  the  real  cul- 
prit.   Did  you  know  a  Jean  someone  ?" 


77 


A  [LONG  POINT  SATEEN 

MADRAS  COLLAR 

20c  or  3  for  50c 

The  last  "word  in  this  very  popular  style^"*of 
collar.  No  collar  we  make  possesses  to  a  higher 
degree  the  distinctive  style  which  differentiates 
the  Red  Man  Brand  from  all  others.  This  collar 
will  be  very  popular  this  season. 

For  sale  by  Canada  *s  Best  Men 's  Stores 

EARL  &  WILSON  -  New  York 

Makers  of  Troy's  Best  Product 


The  Extra  Touch— 

DELICATE  FINISH  in  FLAVOR 


In  cool,  dainty  desserts  that 

tempt  the  appetite, 

is  given  with 


MAPLEINE 


Mapleine  Bavarian,  mousee,  pajr- 
fait,  ice  cream,  frosty  cakes, — 
these  are  a  few 
suggestions  for  re- 
freshing dishes  with 
this  delightful 
flavoring. 

2  oz.  bottle,  SOc 

Get    it   from   your 
grocer,  or  write 

Crescent  Mfg.  Co. 

SMittls,  Wn. 

Stnd  Ic  stamp  for  ricipe  book 

Dept.  O. 


The  girl  drew  away  and  stared  at  him 
speechless. 

"You  don't  mean  Jean  Catapani  ?" 

"I  suppose  so — she  coached " 

"But  she  wasn't  there  when  I  left," 
cried  Greta  Greer  excitedly.  "She  had 
been  in  town  all  day.  The  jewelry 
came  down  about  noon  and  Madeline 
who  had  not  expected  it  so  soon  won- 
dered what  to  do  with  it,  for  ("liauncy 
Beaufort  was  out  somewhere  and  was 
the  only  one  who  knew  the  combination 
of  the  safe.     I  persuaded  her  to  let  me 


78 


SEAL 
BRANTD 

COFFEE 


The 

Finishing  Touch 

To  A 

Perfect  Meal 


CHASE  &  SANBORN 

MONTREAL 


147 


''More  Sonnets  of 
an  Office  Boy" 

By  SAMUEL  E.  KISER 

Price     -     -     75  Cents 


VANDERHOOF-GUNN  CO,  LTD. 

Publishers, 
TORONTO,  ONTAWO. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

keep  it  in  my  room  because  I  had  a  silly 
little  strong  box  in  the  wall — you  have 
probably  seen  the  same  kind  in  apart- 
ment houses." 

Dare  nodded. 

"Why  didn't  one  of  the  men  keep 
them  ?  he  asked,  "I  mean  some  one 
who  should  have  been  responsible  for 
them  ?" 

The  girl  raised  her  shoulders.  "I 
can't  tell  you,"  .she  answered,  "it  was 
simply  fate,  I  suppose.  About  two 
o'clock  I  got  a  cablegram  from  Dr. 
Wright,  the  first  man  who  had  ever 
treated  me.  I  gathered  from  the  mes- 
sage that  if  I  could  catch  a  boat 
immediately  I  would  be  in  time  to 
get  a  few  treatments  from  a  Russian 
specialist  who  was  only  in  London  for 
a  short  time.  On  the  impulse  I  decided 
to  try  to  get  this  boat  and  you  may 
imagine  that  there  was  no  time  to 
lose." 

The  doctor  interrupted. 

"You  did  not  give  the  jewels  to  any 
one  except — 

"No,  no.  I  went  in  search  of 
Madeline,  in  fact  I  packed  and  searched 
at  the  same  time  as  far  as  that  was 
possible,  but  she  was  away  off  in  the 
grounds  somewhere  and  I  could  not 
find  her.  I  then  wrote  a  note  in  which 
I  said  that  I  was  called  away  most 
unexpectedly  and  at  the  bottom  of  it 
I  put  the  figures  signifying  the  com- 
bination of  my  safe.  The  motor  was 
honking  at  the  door  and  I  rushed  off. 
Just  see  how  incrimiating  the  facts 
look — "  she  stopped  and  tried  to  regain 
her  composure —  "Fancy  my  persuad- 
ing her  to  give  me  the  jewels  !  Isn't  it 
horrible  ?" 

Dare  frowned  deeply.  His  theory 
of  thought  suggestion  was  not  pre- 
cisely weakening,  in  fact  her  hurried 
trip  across  might  be  a  blind,  or  she 
might  have  the  jewels  secreted  in  her 
effects  somewhere.  But  he  did  not  feel 
like  suggesting  such  a  possibility  at 
the  present  when  Greta  Greer  was  so 
distressingly  over-wrought.  Before 
landing  he  would  devise  a  way  of  going 
systematically  over  her  trunks,  per- 
haps with  Cunningham's  assistance. 
He  wondered  what  Billy  would  make 
of  this. 

"You  don't  know  of  any  one  else 
who  might  have  suspected  the  hiding 
place  ?"  Dare  asked  after  a  long 
pause. 

"Oh,  any  of  the  maids  might — 
How  I  wish  I  could  speak  with  Mad- 
eline— how  I  wish  I  had  never  heard 
of  this  frightful  curse  !  But  for 
hashish  I  would  never  have  needed  to 
run  away,  like  a  thief."  She  whispered 
the  last  words  into  her  hands.  "Oh,  do 
you  think  you  can  help  me.  Dr.  Dare  ?" 

"What  would  you  be  wiUing  to 
sacrifice  for  a  cure  ?"  he  asked  brutally 
and  with  intent. 

Greta  Greer  recoiled   from  him  as 


Tho  Goneral 
says:- 

Epffs  are  eggs — when  your  hens 
don't  lay.  A  warm  chicken  house 
encourages  the  hens. 
Make  the  roof— and  sides  too — of 

Certain-teed 

ROOFING 

— The  label  guarantees  it  for  15 
years — the  three  biggest  mills  in 
the  roofing  industry  are  behind 
that  label. 

No  roofing  "testa"  can  give  you  that 
aastirauue. 

Your  dealer  can  furnish  Cmrtalrt-imtd 
Rooflnpln  rolls  and  shlnele-s— made  b^' 
the  General  lioolinif  Mfir.  Co.,  uv/rW  » 
largest  riyojini^  manufatUtrerv,  East  St. 
Louis,  111.,   Marseilles,  IlL.  York,  Pa. 


When  in  the  West 

Drink  Western  Canadc'i 
Favorite  Beer 

Redwood 
Lager 

SOU)  BT  AU  DEALERS 

E.  L.  Drewry 

Redwood 
Factories 

Winnipeg 


though  he  had  struck  her,  and  for  the 
first  time  Dare  saw  a  wave  of  crimson 
dye  her  white  skin,  even  in  the  grayness 
of  the  approaching  dawn.  She  showed 
plainly  the  effect  of  his  insult,  not  by 
anger-hauteur,  but  by  a  deep  pain  in 
her  disappointment  of  the  man's  per- 
sonality. She  did  not  answer  for  a 
moment,  trj'ing  to  readjust  her  measure 
of  him. 

"Are  you  speaking  of  money  ?"  she 
asked  finally.  "I  can  pay  you  almost 
any  reasonable  price  you  ask." 

The  coldness  of  her  tone  stung  him, 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


79 


but  he  was  glad.  Had  he  not  been 
able  to  hurt  her,  to  move  her,  had  he 
not  seen  the  poignant  disappointment 
she  felt  when  he  fell  from  the  place  she 
had  set  him,  perhaps  he  would  have 
hesitated  to  ask  her  for  a  crucial  test 
of  her  desire  to  give  up  the  hashish. 
But  a  woman  of  Greta  Greer's  stamp 
does  not  leave  herself  unguarded,  does 
not  bare  her  innermost  soul  to  every 
passer-by,  and  least  of  all  is  the  power 
to  wound  in  every  man's  grasp,  to 
anger — yes,  but  not  to  hurt. 

He  caught  her  hands  and  held  them 
to  his  breast.  She  raised  indignant 
eyes  to  his. 

"No,  I  did  not  mean  money,"  hu 
answered  gently,  and  thrilled  anew 
at  her  quick  change  of  expression,  "I 
meant  yourself — how  much  of  your 
self  are  you  willing  to  give  me,  un- 
reservedly for  a  long  time — are  you — 
willing — to  marry  me  ?" 

For  a  space  she  looked  at  him  fear- 
fully, reason  and  intuition  both  arguing 
for  him.  Then  her  eyes  flickered  and 
the  red  of  her  lips  deepened  he  thought. 
"Are  you  sure  that  you  want  me  ?"  she 
answered  his  question,  tremulously. 
To  be  continued 


Argumentative 

IN   "Tail-Lights,"  a  magazine  that 
our  friend,  W.   R.   Callaway  gets 
out  every  little  while,  there  was 
recently    printed    an    informative 
argument    between    a    kicker    and    a 
booster  of  Canada. 

The  kicker  began  by  making  the 
cheerful  statement  that  "the  drift  in 
Canada  is  not  all  one  way — that  Cana- 
dians flock  southward  as  well  as  Ameri- 
cans northward."  It's  curious,  by  the 
way,  how  these  statements  are  put 
forward  in  all  earnestness  as  proving 
that  Canada  is  an  undesirable  country'. 
Canadians  do  go  southward.  They 
also  go  to  China,  and  Chile,  and  Paris 
— but  nobody  a.sserts  that  therefore 
China  and  Chile  and  Paris  are  superior 
residence-places  to  Canada.  It's  the 
surplus  that  counts;  and  although 
Canadians  may  go  hither  and  yon  at 
their  pleasure,  it  remains  an  indisput- 
able fact  that  more  people  come  to 
Canada  than  go  away — by  some  several 
hundred  thousand  a  year — and  that 
the  population  is  growing  "hand  over 
fist." 

Then  after  one  of  those  fine  old, 
moth-eaten  raps  at  the  climate — just 
as  though  nightingales  were  more  con- 
spicuous by  their  ai)sence  in  Manitoba 
than  in  Minnesota  the  kicker  brings 
forward  what  is  evidently  his  piece 
de  resistance:  "In  the  western  prov- 
inces the  machinery  of  civilization 
is  in  a  more  rudimentary  stage.  The 
facilities  for  the  education  of  children 
must  be  comparatively  low."  You 
will  notice  he  says  "must".     In  other 


The  greatest  enemy 
of  your  skin 

In  the  care  of  your  skin   have  you  reckoned  with  the   most 
powerful,  the  most  persistent  enemy  it  has— the  outside  enemy? 

Skin  specialists  are  tracing  fewer  and  fewer  troubles  to  the 
blood — more  to  bacteria  and  pa'-asites  that  are  carried  into  the  pores  of  the  skin 
with  dust,  soot  and  grime. 

Examine  your  skin  closely.  If  it  is  rough,  sallow,  coarse-textured  or  excess- 
ively oily,  you  are  providing  the  very  best  soil  for  the  thriving  of  these  bacteria. 

How  to  Begin' this  treatment  tonight:  With  warm  water  work  up  a  heavy 

make  your  lather  of  Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  in  your 
skin  resist  hands.  Then  with  the  tips  of  your  fingers 
this  enemy  ru^  t^i's  cleansing,  antiseptic  lather  into 
your  skin  using  an  upward  and  outward 
motion.  Rinse  well  with  warm  water,  then  with  cold. 
If  possible  rub    your   face  for   a  few   minutes  with  a  piece  of  ice. 

Use  this  treatment  for  ten  nights  and  you  will  see  a  marked  im- 
provement.     If  your  skin  should  become  too  sensitive,  discontinue 
until    this    sensitive   feeling   disappears, 
Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  is   the  work 
of  an  authority  on  the  skin  and  it»^ 
needs.      Use    it    regularly    in    your 
daily    toilet  and    keep  your  skin 
clear  and  fresh,  free  and  healthy 
and    its   insidious   enemies 
will  invariably  meet  defeat. 

Woodbury's  Facial  Soap 
costs  25c  a  cake.  No  one 
hesitates  at  the  price  after 
their  first  cake. 


For  sale  by  Canadian  druggists  from  coast 
to  coast,  incltidtng  Nfwfoundland. 


You  can  make  your* 
skin  what  you  urouid 
love  to  have  it. 


Write  today  to  the  Woodbury 
Canadian  factory  for  aamplcM 

For  4c  lue  ivill  jend  you  a  tample  cake. 
For  10c,  samples  of  Woodbury's  Facial 
Soap,  Facial  Cream  and  Poiuder.  For 
50c,  copy  of  the  ffoodburybook  and  Samp- 
les of  the  IVooJbury  preparations.  If  rite 
today  to  The  Andrew  Jergens  Co., 
Ltd.,  Dept.lll.P  Perth,  Ontario. 


Woodbury's  Facial  Soap 


words  he  hopes  it  is — ^just  to  give  point 
to  his  argument. 

"Now  anyone  who  has  even  the 
most  rudimentary  knowledge  of  Cana- 
dian affairs  should  be  aware  of  the 
Dominion's  excellent  reputation  in 
educational  matters,"  says  the  man 
who  knows  Canada.  "The  school 
teacher  follows  the  plough  as  the  top 
hat  was  supposed  to  follow  the  mis- 
sionary. Why,  in  these  three  prairie 
provinces  with  an  area  three  times  the 
size  of  Germany,  and  supporting  less 


than  two  million  inhabitants,  there 
were  in  1911,  5,544  schools  on  which 
.'511,000,000  was  spent.  Also  the 
educational  status  of  the  population 
has  been  strikingly  improved  during 
the  last  ten  years.  Government 
statistics  show  that  the  jiercentage 
f)f  those  who  can  read  and  write  have 
increased  18.02  per  cent,  in  Alberta, 
and  22.1(5  per  cent,  in  Saskatchewan, 
or  to  8G.33  and  86.04  res|}ectively, 
among  those  who  are  five  years  of  age 
and    over.     When    you    realize    that 


80 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


cornJ 

SYRUP 


Children  clamour  for  it— CROWN 
BRAND  makes  the  kiddies  strong 
— builds  them  up  this  cold  weather 
— grown-ups  like  it  too. 
Get  it  at  your  grocer's. 

THE  CANADA  STARCH  CO.,  LIMITED, 


Montreal 


Makers  of  the  Edwardsburg  Brands. 
Taronto     -     Cardinal     -    Brantford     -     Calgary 


Vanconver 


over'  half_^the'.  population  consists  of 
immigrants',  from  across  the  water  the 
significance  of  these  figures  will  be 
more  apparent.  Also,  in  1910  alone, 
the  two  provinces  established  respec- 
tively 251  and  254  new  school  districts. 
This  does  not  savour  of  facilities  'com- 
paratively low,'  or  any  serious  neglect 
ofiour  coming  citizens. 

"The  fact  is  that  schools  are  pro- 
vided in  every  district  where  ten  or 
twelve  children  of  school  age  are  to  be 
found;  and  in  every  township  in 
Western  Canada  two  full  sections  of 
land,  consisting  of  1,280  acres,  have 
been  set  aside  as  a  school  endowment, 
thus  assuring  ample  funds  for  this  all- 
important  work.     Need  we  say  more  ?" 

Canada  has  cheap  land — any 
amount  of  it — and  though  she  is  selling 
it  and.'giving  it  away  in  ever-increasing 
quantities  she  fears  it  will  be  some 
time  yet  before  her  immense  agricul- 
tural area  is  comfortably  sett'-xl. 

As  for  Canadian  law,  we  quote  an 
extract  from  a  letter  written  by  an 
American  farmer  now  in  Southern 
Alberta,  to  prove  that  here  at  least, 
our  correspondent^does  noi  stand 
alone : 

"We  arejgiving  some  of  the  Cana- 
dians new  ideas  about  being  good 
farmers,  and  they  are  giving  us  some 
new  ideas  about  being  good  citizens. 
On  Saturday  night,  every  bar-room 
is  closed  at  exactly  seven  o'clock. 
Why  ?  Because  it  is  the  law,  and  it's 
the  same  with'every  other  law.  There 
isn't  a  bad  man  in  the  whole  district, 
and  a  woman  can  come  home  from 
town  to  the  farm  at  midnight,  if  she 
wants  to,  alone.  That's  Canada's 
idea  of  how  to  run  a  frontier;  they 
have  certainly  taught  us'a  lot." 

Ask  the  men  who  are  settling  in  the 
West,  and  they  will  give  you  the  same 
answer.  There's  no  place  for  the 
man  who  wants  to  make  his  fortune 
by  sitting  on  the  front  porch  and 
smoking  while  the  wheat  harvests 
itself;  but  for  the  worker  there  are 
places  and  to  spare.  The  kicker  is 
one  of  two  things:  either  the  man 
who  doesn't  know  the  West;  or  the 
man  who  doesn't  want  to  know  it. 


The  following  verse  was  sui.mitted 
to  the  editor  under  the  spirited  title, 
"Tra-la-larceny :" 

A  heathen  named  Min,  passing  by 
A  pie-shop,  picked  up  a  mince-pie. 
If  you  think  Min  a  thief. 
Pray  dismiss  the  belief: 
The    mince-pie    that    Min    spied    was 
Min's  pie. 

He  and  she  arrived  in  the  fifth  inn- 
ing. 

He  (to  a  fan)— "What's  the  score?" 
Fan — "Nothing  to  nothing." 
She — -"Goody  !     We  haven't  missed 
a    thing  !" 


VOL.  XVI. 
NO.  2 


mmOCSDM 


CANADA. 
MONTHLY 


LONDON 
JUNE 
S 


ufljiiiiiu«ii«njwC9IlIDJ>>uiiiiiiniitwiuiuiuiiJiiiMii«iiiiiiii^ 


The  Weight  of  a  New  Broom 

THREE  YEARS  AGO,  WILLIAM  PEARSON  READ  A  BRIEF  PAPER  TO  A  HANDFUL 

OF  PEOPLE  IN  THE  SCHOOL-ROOM  OF  ST   LUKE'S  CHURCH.    THAT  PAPER 

WAS  THE  INITIAL  FORCE  THAT  SET  WINNIPEG  HOUSE-CLEANING 

AND  INAUGURATED  A  MOVEMENT  THAT  WILL  AFFECT 

ALL  THE  CITIES  OF  WESTERN  CANADA 

By  A.  Vernon  Thomas 


WINNIPEG  felt  sick  and  called 
in  a  specialist.  The  expert 
came,  made  an  examination 
and  pronounced  it  to  be  a 
complicated  case  of  congestion  and 
cramps,  insufficient  lung  space,  poor 
circulation  and  arterial  obstruction. 
The  cause  he  pronounced  to  be  un- 
scientific growth. 

For  the  fact  is  that  Winnipeg  in  her 
feverish  desire  to  grow,  only  to  grow, 
was  not  in  the  least  concerned  to  grow 
properly  and 
healthfully,  to  de- 
velop sanely.  Her 
mad  passion  for 
evidences  of  her  ex- 
pansion, her  insis- 
tent demand  for 
figures  to  prove 
growth,  and  only 
growth,  be  it  by 
building  permits, 
or  by  bank  clear- 
ances, or  by  cus- 
toms receipts,  or 
by  pavement  mile- 
age, or  perad ven- 
ture by  the  price 
of  vacant  land, any 
prfxess  of  growth 
demonstration,  have  blinded  her  to 
the  fact  that  cities  cannot  live  by 
growth  alone. 

How  many  sighs  have  VVinnipeggers 
in  the.se  later  days  heaved  to  Heaven 
that  railways  were  ever  allowed  to 
make  a  liee-line  through  the  heart  of 
their  city.  How  often  have  the  mil- 
lions   l)een    counted    which    Winnii)eg 

CopyrtiH  1914 


Illustrated  from  Photographs 

would  have  saved  if  the  railway  com- 
panies had  been  compelled  te  enter  and 
leave  the  city  by  one  common  right-of- 
way.  How  many  tempers  have  been 
lost  when  angry  citizens  and  reluctant 
railway  companies  have  wrangled  over 
subways,  bridges,  land  damages  and 
fifty  other  highly  contentious  matters  ! 
Of  course  it  is  the  old  story.  Nobody 
wants  anybody  else's  experience.  We 
all  insist  upon  buying  our  own.  Winni- 
peg could  have  looked  around  and  seen 


SMALL  Hoys  ON  TUB  "r.IANT  STR1I>K"  IN  ONK  OF  WINNIPEG'S  NRICllBORIIOOD  PLAYCROUNDS 


the  mess  which  Toronto  made  of  her 
harlxjr  front,  or  the  worse  mess  which 
Chicago  made  of  hers.  Or  a  look  could 
have  Ixjen  taken  at  Montreal,  now- 
trying  to  wriggle  out'  of  its  nightmare 
of  narrow  streets. 

London,  with  its  great'  hives  of 
worUi's  workers  cramped  into  a  incdia- 
eval  labyrinth,  was  a  clarion  cry  to  new 

hy  iht   VANDERHOOF-CUNN  COMPANY.  LTD.     AU 


communities  to  plan  and  control  their 
growth.  Two  and  a  half  centuries  ago 
London  lost  her  great  opportunity. 
For  in  1666,  the  year  after  the  Great 
Plague,  when  the  Great  Fire  almost 
wiped  the  city  off  the  map,  Sir  Christo- 
pher Wren  besought  his  fellow-citizens 
to  abandon  the  old  building  lines  and 
plan  a  city  worthy  of  its  rank  and 
reputation.  But  they  refused  to  hear 
him  and  London  once  more  assumed 
its  ancient  and  mediaeval  dress.  To-day 
Londoners  are 
spending  millions 
and  millions  of 
pounds  sterling  to 
let  the  life  blood 
How  freely  through 
"all  that  mighty 
heart." 

If  space  perinit- 
trd  one  could  dwell 
on  the  example  of 
Paris,  W'here,  in 
the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  centu- 
ry, Baron  Haus- 
iTiann  had  toover- 
coiTie  a  mountain 
of  obstacles  to 
help  make  Paris 
the  magnificent  city  that  it  is  to-day. 
Winnipeg  heeded  none  of  these 
things.  Like  Topsy,  she  was  content 
merely  to  grow,  and  growing,  mere 
growing,  became  a  habit.  As  we  have 
seen,  the  habit  got  so  bad  that  a 
specialist  had  to  be  called  in.  We 
heard  the  diagnosis,  but  what  was  the 
remedy  ?    Town-planning  !    Those  are 

rithu  rutntd.  91 


92 

the  words  that  have  been  in  the  air  in 
Winnipeg  for   the  past  two  or  three 


CANADA  MONTHLY 
city,   with   four  boulevards  and   four 
rows  of  trees,  is  another  excrllent^and 
worthy  effort. 

Almost  exactly  three  years  ago,  Mr. 
Williiim  Ferrson,  the  head  of  a  large 
VAinnipeg  ]i,nd  firm,  read  a  paper  on 
"Good  Citizenship"  to  a  small  but 
keenly  attentive  audience  who  gathered 


WILLIAM  PBARSOK,  WHO  STARTED  THE  CITY  PLANNING  MOVEMENT  ;    EX-MAYOR  EVANS,  WHO 

FOSTERED  IT  ;    AND  J.  D.  ATCHISON,  AUTHOR  OF  THE  CAPITOL 

APPROACH    PROJECT 

years.  Citizens  are  catching  the 
sound.  The  words  are  being  conjured 
with  and  the  people  are  slowly  but 
surely  getting  the  vision. 

The  growth  of  such  a  movement  is 
slowandattended|withmanydifficulties. 

Much,  of  course,  has  been  prejudiced. 
Vexatious  conditions  have  been  created 
which  will  not  be  removed  for  genera- 
tions. Fortunately  there  have  been 
splendid  accidents,  such,  for  instance, 
as  the  magnificent  width  of  Portage 
Avenue  and  Main  Street,  both  old  and 
famous  Indian  trails.  And  it  would  be 
unfair  to  say  that  Winnipeg  is  totally 
without  examples  of  forethought  and 
artistic  sense.  Burrows  Avenue,  in 
North  Winnipeg,  with  a  central  tree 
planted  boulevard  and  tree  planted 
boulevards  abutting  on  the  sidewalks, 
is  one  such  instance  of  prevision,  and 
Broadway,  in  the  southern  part  of  the 


in  the  school- 
room  of    St. 
L  u  k    e  '  s 
Church,  Win- 
nipeg.    That 
paper  was  the 
grain  of  mus- 
tard seed.    It 
was    the    be- 
ginning    of 
town-pl  an- 
ning    in     the 
metropolis  of 
the  Canadian 
West.      A 
town-plan- 
ning commit- 
tee was  form- 
ed on  the spot 
with    Mr.    Pearson  as    chairman.     It 
took  quick  grasp  of  the  problem.     A 
programme  calling  for  an  educational 
campaign  on  town-planning  was  drawn 
up,  printed  and  distributed.     It  asked 
for    an    investigation    into    conditions 
existing  in  the  city. 

Co-operation  was.  sought  between 
the  Pearson  Committee  and  the  Winni- 
peg Industrial  Bureau — another  organ- 
ization with  an  extremely  interesting 
story.  Things  moved  rapidly.  A 
joint  delegation  waited  upon  the  mayor, 
Mr.  Sanford  Evans,  a  well-known 
Canadian,  and  laid  its  idea  on  town- 
planning  before  him.  Mayor  Evans 
revealed  himself  at  once  an  enthus- 
iastic town-planner.  He  assured  the 
delegation  of  his  entire  sympathy  and 
strongest  support. 

By  a  curious  coincidence  it  happened 
that  the  question  of  town-planning  was 


coming  up  m  the  city  council  that  verv 
evenmg.  This,  in  itself  was  significant, 
tor  It  meant  that  the  unordered  and 
sporadic  growth  of  the  city  was  forcine 
Itself  upon  the  council's  attention  It 
was  arranged  at  once  that  the  delega- 
tion representing  the  Pearson  Commit- 
tee and  the  Industrial  Bureau  should 
wait  upon  the  council  in  the  evening 
Ihere  was  complete  sympathy  with 
the  ideas  of  the  town-planners  Mayor 
Evans,  whose  interest  had  been  vigor- 
ously roused  at  the  convention  of  the 
Canadian  Union  of  Municipalities  held 
in  Montreal  the  previous  summer, 
gave  the  delegation  every  encourage- 
ment. Shortly  afterwards  the  council 
showed  Its  good  faith  by  obtaining  an 
amendment  to  its  charter  giving  it 
power  to  appoint  a  commission  for  the 
purpose  of  reporting  upon  a  city- 
planning  scheme. 

In  June,  1911,  acting  upon  this 
newly-acquired  power,  the  council 
appointed  a  city-planning  commission, 
with  Mayor  Sanford  Evans'at  its  head. 
The  commission  was  a  strong  and 
representadve  body.  It  included  sev- 
eral members  of  the  city  council,  a 
member  of  the  Manitoba  Government, 
a  representative  of  Manitoba  Univer- 
sity, of  the  Winnipeg  Trades  and  Labor 
Council,  of  the  Winnipeg  Real  Estate 
Exchange  and  of  many  other  bodies. 
Before  proceeding  it  will  be  fitting 
to  say  a  word  as  to  Mr.  William  Pear- 
son, the  father  of  town-planning  in  the 
city  of  Winnipeg.  To  write  of  Mr. 
Pearson  is  an  inspiration,  for  he 
represents  a  type  conspicuous  by  its 
absence  at  the  present  stage  of  Can- 
adian development.  Coming  to  Mani- 
toba thirty-one  years  ago  from  Man- 
chester, England,  where  he  was  Ix... 
and  brought  up,  Mr.  Pearson  farmed 
for  fifteen  years,  a  few  miles  west  of 
Winnipeg.  Contact  with  the  soil  gave 
him,  as  it  has  given  to  others  who  have 
served  their  fellows,  large  ideas  and 
broad  concepts  of  human  conduct, 
human  relationship  and  human  re- 
sponsibility. 

In  1899  Mr.  Pearson  moved  into 
Winnipeg  and  has  for  some  years  been 
head  of  the  land  firm  which  bears  his 
name.  He  has  f  rospered  and  is  to-day 
a  wealthy  man.  But  he  has  not  for- 
gotten the  thoughts  which  came  to 
him  upon  the  Manitoba  prairies.  The 
ordinary  satisfactions  of  money,  ease, 
social  position,  respectability,  pillar- 
dom  in  the  church,  etc.. left  Mr.  Pearson 
hungry  and  dissatisfied.  He  made  up 
his  mind  that  his  life  should  count  for 
something  beyond  these  things. 

The  poverty  of  ideals  within  the 
church  depressed  him.  For  he  repre- 
sents the  large  and  growing  class  which 
is  beginning  to  chafe  at  the  restricted 
outlet  offered  by  the  church  for  the 
human    sympathies    of    the    normal 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


93 


person.  Mr.  Pearson  has  an  unshaken 
belief  that  the  average  man  of  means 
and  influence  is  wilHng  to  do  more  than 
open  pews,  superintend  Sunday  schools 
or  give  to  missions.  He  simply  needs 
to  be  given  a  chance,  declares  Mr. 
Pearson. 

While  not  enamored  of  any  particular 
economic  doctrine,  Mr.  Pearson  is  one 
of  the  growing  band  of  wealthy  men 
who  are  heartily  ashamed  of  the  dis- 
proportion between  the  protection 
given  to  money  and  to  the  things  which 
cost  money  and  the  protection  given 
to  human  life  and  to  the  things  which 
go  to  make  life  pleasant  and  healthful 
for  the  common  people. 

So  Mr.  Pearson  has  set  out  to  do  in 
Winnipeg  the  thing  which  lies  nearest, 
and  that  happens  to  be  the  promotion 
of  town-planning  and  better  housing. 
He  is  intensely  interested  in  the  subject 
and  has  made  a  thorough  study  of 
what  has  been  done  and  is  being  done 
on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  As  far 
as  Winnipeg  is  concerned,  Mr.  Pearson 
has  issued  his  challenge  and  is  out  to 
fight  for  his  ideals.  He  is  giving  freely 
of  his  time  and  money  to  further  the 
movement.  Nothing  will  deter  him 
in  his  high  resolve  to  improve  condi- 
tions in  Winnipeg.  He  has  the  pioneer 
instinct,  looking  neither  for  praise,  nor 
caring  for  criticism  and  suspicion. 

Yes,  let  the  word  be  repeated,  "sus- 
picion." For  in  this  present  period  of 
rapid  nation-building,  when  material 
things  are  uppermost  and  insistent, 
many  people  are  unable  to  understand 
what  William  Pearson  expects  to  get 
out  of  an  investment  which,  in  the 
current  sense,  is  neither  revenue-pro- 
ducing nor  dividend-bearing.  As  far 
as  Mr.  Pearson  is  concerned,  they  can 
keep  on  guessing. 

It  would,  however,  be  quite  unfair 


THE  LITTERED  LOT  WHERE  THE  OLD  BOOT,  THE  TIN  CAN,  AND  THE  ANCIENT  BARREL 
FURNISH  PASTURAGE  FOR  ERRANT  GOATS 


to  create  the  impression  that  Mr. 
Pearson  is  fighting  single-handed  for  a 
more  beautiful,  more  ordered  and 
healthier  Winnipeg.  Far  from  it.  His 
call  discovered  a  splendid  body  of 
citizenship,  of  intelligent  and  influen- 
tial citizenship  ready  and  anxious  to 
join  in  the  work. 

Let  us  again  take  up  the  thread  of 
events.  As  we  have  seen,  in  June, 
1911,  the  Winnipeg  City  Council 
appointed  a  city-planning  commission 
with  the  then  mayor,  Mr.  Sanford 
Evans,  as  chairman.  Upon  this  com- 
mission Mr.  Pearson  was  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  Winnipeg  Real  Estate 
Exchange,  although  personally  he  does 
not  own  a  foot  of  land  in  the  city  except 
that  on  which  his  own  house  stands. 
The  section  of  the  Winnipeg  charter 
under    which     this    commission    was 


H  RS? 

■liiA"" 

^ta^^v«M^^^-L                             ~^£^H^^^^^^^^^B^^^^w 

THE  VACANT  LOT  AS  TRANSTORMCD  BY  THE  ETKOKTS  OF  THE  CITY  FLANNINC  CAMPAIGN  INTO  A 
FLOWER  GARDEN  AND  MINIATURE  PARK 


appointed  empowered  the  commission 
to  consider  and  report  upon  a  city- 
planning  scheme,  the  distribution  of 
population,  and  other  problems  relat- 
ing to  city  organization  and  govern- 
ment. 

The  commission   was    formally   ap- 
pointed m  October, 1911,  and  at  oncegot 
to  work.    It  labored  for  fifteen  months 
and  then  drew  up  a  detailed  report. 
Early,  it  was  recognized  that  the  co- 
operation  of  adjoining   municipalities 
must  be  secured.     In  response  to  invi- 
tations, representatives  of  St.  Boniface, 
the    French    cathedral    city    opposite 
Winnipeg  on  the  Red  River,  and  of  the 
rural  municipalities  of  St.  Vital,  his- 
toric Kildonan,  Springfield  and  Rosser, 
were  added  to  the  Commission.     Six 
committees  were  appointed,  Mr.  Pear- 
son taking  charge  of  the  Housing  Com- 
mittee. The  other  five  committees  were 
entrusted   with   the  matters  of  social 
survey,     traffic     and     transportation, 
river  frontage  and  dockage,  aesthetic 
development  and  physical  plan. 

Perhaps  the  work  of  the  Winnipeg 
City  Planning  Commission  cannot  be 
better  described  than  by  quoting  from 
the  preface  to  the  report  by  Mr.  San- 
ford Evans.     He  writes: — 

"To  indicate  the  amount  of  detailed  worlc 
carried  through  by  the  Commission,  it  may  be 
sufficient  to  state  that  the  living  conditions  of 
2,222  houses  were  personally  investigated  by 
representatives  of  the  Commission  and  the 
information  obtained  tabulated;  that  4,212 
houses  were  visited  in  order  to  obtain  informa- 
tion as  to  the  movements  of  population  to  and 
from  employment;  that  real  estate  values  in 
relation  to  rentals  were  worked  out  in  several 
hundreds  of  cases;  that  the  building  by-law* 
of  fifty  cities  were  carefully  examined  and  com- 
pared with  conditions  existing  in  this  City; 
that  the  birtli  and  death  register  at  the  City 
Hall  for  a  period  of  two  years  was  carefully 
analysed  to  arrive  at  the  statistics  of  infant 
mortality;  and  that  draftsmen  were  continu- 
ously employed  for  six  months  preparing  draw- 
ings and  plan*  for  the  Committees." 


94 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


The  findings  of  the  Commission  are 
given  in  detail  in  the  reports  of  the 
various  committees.  Mr.  Kvans,  how- 
ever, in  his  preface  summarizes  these 
findings  under  eighteen  heads,  one  or 
two  of  which  it  may  be  of  interest  to 
quote.  "Your  Commission,"  says  Mr. 
Evans,  "finds  unt|uestional)ly: — 

"That  the  infantile  (lc;ith-ratc  in  Winnipeg 
is  too  high  and  varies  strikingly  in  different 
wards,  proving  that  conditions  in  certain 
districts  are  unfavorable  and  calling  for  educa- 
tive work  along  the  lines  of  child  welfare. 

"That  the  erection  of  examples  of  'Model 
Housing'  should  be  urged  upon  the  attention 
of  private  capital,  and,  failing  a  response  from 
that  source,  upon  the  Civic  Authorities. 

"That  many  new  highways  must  be  planned 
by  extending,  straightening  and  in  some  cases 
widening  existing  streets  and  by  building 
bridges  or  subways  and  perhaps  by  opening  up 
entirely  new  thoroughfares. 

"That,  as  it  is  certain  that  more  railway 
tracks  will  be  required  within  the  City  and  in 
the  future  new  railways  will  seek  to  enter  the 
City,  this  problem  should  be  carefully  studied 
without  delay  with  a  view  to  indicating,  in 
justice  to  the  citizens  and  in  the  interests  of 
the  railways,  the  areas  in  which  such  develop- 
ment can  take  place  to  the  greatest  general 
advantage. 

"That  there  is  a  more  urgent  duty  upon 
private  citizens  and  upon  the  civic  authorities 
in  Winnipeg,  than  in  many  other  places  of 
more  striking  and  varied  natural  location,  to 
create  by  architecture  and  by  the  landscape 
gardener's  art  pleasing  vistas  in  the  streets, 
efifectively  breaking  wherever  possible,  by  an 
attractive  resting  place  for  the  eye,  an  other- 
wise vacant  stretch  of  straight  and  level  road- 
ways." 

One  of  the  most  important  things 
dealt  with  by  the  Commission  was  the 
proposal  of  Mr.  J.  D.  Atchison,  a  Win- 
nipeg architect,  to  form  a  civic  centre, 
with  the  new  parliament  buildings, 
now  in  course  of  construction  at  a  cost 
of  between  two  and  three  million 
dollars,  as  a  base.  This  proposal  was 
gone  into  very  fully,  by  a  joint  com- 
mittee composed  of  the  aesthetic 
development,  the  traffic  and  transpor- 
tation and  the  physical  plan  commit- 
tees of  the  Commission.  In  its  report 
this  joint  committee  stated: — 

"Winnipeg  is  now  facing  an  opportunity  for 
creating  a  Civic  Centre,  which  is  without 
parallel  in  the  history  of  town  planning  move- 
ments, in  that  there  is  not  a  single  obstacle  in 
the  way  under  existing  conditions.  The  Pro- 
vincial Government  is  about  to  commence 
work  on  the  Capitol  building,  which  will  be 
without  doubt,  the  finest  in  the  Dominion,  and 
the  citizens  of  Winnipeg  will  soon  be  obliged 
to  build  a  City  Hall  in  keeping  with  the  City's 
importance  as  the  capital  of  Manitoba  and  the 
commercial  centre  of  Western  Canada." 

To  carry  out  the  scheme  it  was  pro- 
posed to  build  a  capitol  approach  by 
creating  a  mall  or  plaza  154  feet  in 
width  between  Portage  Avenue  and 
Broadway.  Off  Broadway,  at  the 
southern  end  of  the  mall,  were  to  be  the 
new  parliament  buildings  and  at  the 
northern  end,  in  the  vicinity  of  Portage 
Avenue,  was  to  be  the  new  city  hall. 
The  actual  scheme,  now  taking  definite 
shape,  has  been  slightly  modified,  but 
is  substantially  the  same.     The  joint 


committee  suggested  that  the  entire 
control  of  the  mall,  including  the  prop- 
erty on  either  side,  be  placed  in  the 
hands  of  a  coinmission. 

Oeat  interest  has  been  taken  in  this 
approach  scheme  by  prominent  citi- 
zens. Ex-Mayor  Evans,  speaking  at 
a  public  meeting  in  Winnipeg,  said. — 

"When  the  provincial  government  decided 
that  it  needed  new  offices  it  could  have  obtained 
all  the  actual  accommodation  necessary  by  the 
expenfiiture  of  a  few  thousand  dollars.  It  has 
been  decided,  however,  that  legislative  build- 
ings worthy  of  the  province  shall  be  erected, 
and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  expended 
on  ornamentation, 

"As  the  competition  for  plans  for  the  new 
building  was  thrown  open  to  the  architects  of 
the  whole  British  Empire,  and  as  the  plans 
were  adjudicated  on  by  the  president  of  the 
British  Architects'  Association  it  is  a  justifiable 
assumption  that  the  building  will  be  the  best 
obtainable  within  the  bounds  of  the  Empire. 
Having  once  obtained  a  good  thing  it  is  the 
duty  of  the  City  of  Winnipeg  to  display  it  to 
the  best  advantage.  The  new  buildings  will 
not  be  properly  appreciated  if  they  have  to  be 
'peeked'  at  from  an  angle.  It  is  necessary  that 
distance  and  vista  be  provided." 

"If  Winnipeg  takes  hold  of  the  problem  and 
solves  it  the  achievement  will  be  talked  of  all 
over  the  world  and  more  tourists  will  be 
attracted  to  see  the  capitol  approach  than  will 
come  to  Winnipeg  for  any  other  attraciion. 
But  besides  its  advertising  value  the  capitol 
approach  will  have  an  advantageous  eflfect  on 
the  citizens  themselves,  accustoming  them  to 
the  sight  of  beautiful  buildings,  instead  of  more 
utilitarian  structures." 

It  is  obvious  that  the  difficulties  con- 
nected with  this  capitol  approach 
scheme,  are  enormous.  The  question 
of  expense,  especially  at  the  present 
time,  is  perhaps  the  chief  obstacle. 
Nevertheless  the  proposal  is  being 
vigorously  pushed  and  the  scheme  will, 
in  all  probability,  be  carried  out.  .^t 
this  writing  Qan.  31,  1914)  a  bill 
sponsored  by  Mr.  Lendrum  McMeans, 
M.  P.  P.,  chairman  of  the  Legislative 
Committee  of  the  Winnipeg  Housing 
and  Town  Planning  Association,  the 
successor  of  the  Winnipeg  City  Plan- 
ning Commission,  is  before  the  Mani- 
toba legislature.  It  empowers  the 
provincial  government  to  appoint  a 
Capitol  Approach  commission,  to  study 
the  whole  question  and  particularly 
the  financial  side  of  it. 

Already  the  City  of  Winnipeg  has 
passed  a  by-law  providing  for  what  is 
called  excess  condemnation  in  connec- 
tion with  the  scheme.  That  is  to  say 
the  city  council,  or  the  Capitol  Ap- 
proach con^mission  if  appointed,  can 
expropriate,  over  and  above  the  land 
required  for  the  actual  mall,  300  feet 
on  either  side  of  it.  The  idea  is  that 
this  abutting  property,  greatly  in- 
creased in  value  by  the  laying  out  of 
the  mall,  should  be  sold  by  the  city 
to  provide  funds  for  the  improvement. 
It  should  be  explained  that  after 
presenting  its  report  to  the  mayor  and 
council  the  Winnipeg  City  Planning 
Commission  dissolved.  To  preserve 
continuity,  however,  and  to  press  for 


the  carrying  out  of  the  recommenda- 
tions of  the  Commission  a  voluntary 
body,  previously  referred  to,  and 
entitled  the  Winnipeg  Housing  and 
Town  Planning  Association,  was 
formed.  It  has  to-day  some  twelve 
hundred  members,  including  many  of 
Winnijjeg's  best  citizens. 

.At  this  writing  the  Association  is 
keenly  interested  in  two  bills  before  the 
Manitoba  legislature.  One  of  these  is 
the  Capitol  .Approach  bill,'*  already 
referred  to,  and  the  other  is  a  measure 
to  encourage  the  building  of  houses  in 
towns  and  cities.  This  bill,  like  the 
other  one,  is  being  sponsored  by  Mr. 
McMeans,  chairman  of  the  .Associa- 
tion's legislative  committee.  Perhaps 
there  is  no  problem  more  insistent  in 
Winnipeg,  or  more  vital,  than  the  pro- 
vision of  cheap  houses.  High  rents, 
high  cost  of  construction,  high  cost  of 
land  near  the  city,  are  hard>-  perennials 
in  the  discussion  of  Winnipeg's  social 
and  economic  problems. 

The  Housing  bill  now  before  the 
Manitoba  legislature  is  framed  upon 
and  is  virtually  a  copy  of  the  Hanna 
Act  of  Ontario,  of  1913,  an  act  which 
has  produced  excellent  results  in  Tor- 
onto. Briefly,  the  bill  pro\ides  for  the 
guaranteeing  by  any  Manitoba  town 
or  city,  up  to  85  per  cent,  of  the  bonds 
of  building  companies.  The  guarantee- 
ing municipality  must  be  represented 
on  the  board  of  the  company  and  the 
latter  may  not  earn  more  than  six 
per  cent,  upon  the  capital  invested. 
Net  profits  over  and  above  six  per 
cent,  must  be  used  in  the  acquisition 
of  further  land  for  improving  the  hous- 
ing accommodation  already  provided, 
or  for  the  redemption  of  capital  stock. 
The  bill  will  pass,  of  course,  and  it  is 
altogether  likely  that  the  coming  spring 
will  see  the  completion  of  plans  to  take 
advantage  of  it.  .As  in  Toronto,  some 
of  the  best  citizens  can  be  counted  upon 
to  assist  in  the  application  of  the  act. 
Concurrently  with  the  efforts  being 
put  forth  by  the  town-planners  to  pro- 
vide cheaper  and  better  housing  in 
Winnipeg,  the  advocates  of  the  single 
tax  are  energetically  preaching  their 
gospel.  They  have  recently  succeeded 
in  persuading  the  city  council  so  to 
amend  its  charter  that  a  referendum 
on  the  question  of  the  single  tax  can  be 
taken  in  Winnipeg.  In  the  near  future 
this  referendum  will  probably  be  taken. 
The  coming  spring  will  also  see  some 
easement  of  the  acute  housing  situation 
in  Winnipeg  through  the  creation  of  a 
model  labor  village  a  few  miles  to  the 
north  of  the  city.  Full  details  of  an 
elaborate   scheme    to    build    a   garden 

*  Note — Since  the  foregoing  was  written,  the 
Capitol  Approach  Bill  has  been  set  aside  by 
the  Manitoba  Legislature.  This,  however, 
does  not  mean  that  the  scheme  has  been  aban- 
doned. Its  promoters  are  still  busy  trying  to 
influence  public  opinion  in  its  favor. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


9"» 


AI.THOIGH  THIS  SCENE  KESEMBLES  A  VISTA  ALONG  THE  CI'PER  REACHES  OK  THE  THAMES,  IT  IS  ACTUALLY  PART  OF  THE  PRAIRIK  CITY  Ol' 
WINNIPEG.      THE  CITY  PLANNING  IDEA  TAKES  ADVANTAGE  OK  ALL  NATURAL  BEAUTIES  OF  RIVER  AND  WOODLAND 


city  for  workingmcii  on  llic  hanks  of 
I  he  Red  River  between  Winnipeg  and 
Selkirk  were  recently  made  public. 
The  scheme  has  gained  the  hearty 
approval  of  the  Winnipeg  Trades  and 
l^bor  Council  and  many  more  appli- 
cations for  houses  in  the  garden  city 
have  been  recei\ed  than  can  ])()ssibly 
be  granted. 

Another  important  project  which  the 
Winni|K'g  Housing  and  Town  Planning 
.\s.sociation  has  very  much  at  heart  is 
one  which  the  Association's  name 
>uggests,  viz..  the  laying  down  and 
establishing  of  a  physical  plan  for  the 
future  grow  th  of  the  city.  Such  a  plan 
to  be  of  any  use  would,  of  course,  have 
to  have  the  Siinction  of  law.  Town- 
planning  legislation  of.  this  kind  has 
already  passed  in  the  Canadian  ()rf)v- 
inces  of  Ontario,  New  Brunswick  and 
Nova  Scotia.  As  almost  everyone 
knows,  the  f)rinciple  of  town-planning 
is   deeply    rooted    in    (iermany    where 


most  of  the  cities  are  planned  for  long 
years  ahead.  The  principle  has  also 
found  wide  acceptance  in  the  I'nited 
Kingdom  and  in  the  United  States. 

Petitions  now  in  course  of  circulation 
in  Winnijicg  re(|uesl  the  city  council  to 
obtain  the  legislation  necessary  for  the 
laying  down  of  a  jihysical  plan.  When 
this  authorization  is  obtained- — and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  it  will  be— the 
city  will  probably  employ  expert  town- 
planners  to  draw  up  a  physical,  or,  as 
it  is  often  called,  a  superim[X)sed  plan. 
This  is  simply  a  large  map  showing  the 
lines  and  directions  of  future  growth. 
Railway  entrances  will  be  provided  for, 
arteries  of  traffic,  publi(  scpiares  and 
parks,  while  neighlMnliood  centres, 
crtH-hes,  community  wash-houses,  com- 
fort stations,  recreation  grounds,  etc., 
will  be  ]ilanned  on  up-to-date  prin- 
ciples. 

Most  imi)ortant  of  all,  perha|)s,  the 
superimposed  plan  will  set  apart  sites 


for  i)ublic  schools.  All  sub-divisions 
will,  of  course,  have  to  take  cognizance 
of  this  physical  plan  and  will  have  to 
meet  its  requirements  as  to  streets, 
school  sites,  park  sites  and  all  com- 
munity needs.  Land  needed  by  the 
city  will  be  acquired  by  expropriation, 
but  no  fancy  prices  or  speculative 
values  will  be  paid.  The  price  will  be 
the  price  obtaining  when  the  plan  was 
filed,  plus  interest.  This  will  permit 
the  opening  of  new  streets,  etc.,  without 
incurring  the  present  enormous  expense 
of  so  doing. 

These  are  some  of  the  big  things 
which  the  Winnipeg  Housing  and 
Town  Planning  .Association  has  in 
hand  and  on  behalf  of  which  it  is  con- 
ducting a  campaign  of  popular  educa- 
tion. Nor  has  the  immediate  present 
been  forgotten.  For  a  couple  of  sum- 
mers iiast,  and  particularly  last  sum- 
mer, the  Association  did  a  splendid 
Continuctl  on  page  \'.i{>. 


"W^f^ffF 


HE  FLEW  SOUTHWARD  THROUGH  THE  NIGHT,  SBEINC 
A  GIRL'S  FACE  ALL  THE  WAY 


On  the  Wings  of  the  Swallow 

WHEREIN  THE  INSIDIOUS  GAME  OF  GOLF.  THE  SWIFTEST  AEROPLANE  IN  THE 

WORLD,  AND  A  WOMAN'S  BRIGHT  EYES  PLAY  THE  DEUCE 

WITH  "DAREDEVIL  TIM"  RAINEY 

By  Frederick  Palmer 

Author  of  " Danbury  Rodd,  Aviator"  etc. 

Illustrated  by 

Edwin  F.  Bayha 

How  could  he  have  the  courage  to 
propose  when  he  could  not  hit  a  Httle 
ball  nicely  placed  on  a  tiny  hill  of 
sand  ?  How  hard  it  was  to  look  at 
that  little  ball  when  her  face  was  so 
near  him  ! 

The  real  truth  was  that  he  did  not 
like  golf.  It  was  torture.  But  he 
read  all  the  books,  he  practiced  in 
secret,  applied  the  principles  of  physics 
and  psychology,  laboring  determinedly 
and  earnestly,  his  goal  the  day  when 
he  should  make  clean  drive  after  clean 
drive  and  turn  in  a  better  score  than 
Worthington.  And  Eunice  liked  to 
watch  him  play;  but  that  might  be 
said  of  anyone  whose  sense  of  pathos 
did  not  altogether  eclipse  his  sense  of 
humor. 

He  was  improving  fast  and  in  a  rriost 
confident  frame  of  mind  when  the  call 
from  Labrador  intervened.  That  trip 
was  the  worst  he  ever  had  had,  a  con- 
tinual hammer-beat  of  exasperation 
and  hazard.  He  found  the  famished 
exploring  party  making  their  semi- 
weekly  meal  off  their  bootlegs,  and 
taking  the  weakest  one  first,  he  bore 
the  whole  emaciated  lot,  one  by  one, 
to  safety  on  the  coast. 

"Congratulations,  my  wonder- 
child  !"  Rodd  wired  him.  "Take  a 
good  rest  at  St.  John's  before  return- 
ing." 

Tim  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  He 
flew  southward  through  the  night, 
seeing  a  girl's  face  all  the  way,  and 
arrived  at  his  own  landing  station 
soon  after  daybreak. 

"I  made  it  !"  said  Tim  triumphantly, 
not  thinking  of  the  rescued  explorers, 
but  that  he  was  on  hand  for  the  golf 
tournament  which  began  that  morn- 
ing. 

"I  suppose  you  are  playing  against 
Worthington,"  said  Rodd,  looking 
sharply  at  Tim's  pale,  drawn  features. 

"Yes,  I  am  !"  answered  Tim  defiant- 
ly, gulping  the  hot  coffee  which  one  of 
the  attendants  brought.  The  tremb- 
ling of  his  fingers  in  the  reaction  from 
hours  of  vigil  made  the  cup  beat  a 
tattoo  against  the  saucer. 


AN    electrician    peels   the   insula 
tion  off  a  severed  copper  wire, 
ties  the  ends,  and  a  bell  rings 
with  unbroken  titter  down  the 
line.     Then  he  fixes  the  push  button 
and  the  bell  rings  only  when  you  tell 
it  to. 

That  process  of  repair  is  perfectly 
simple  until  you  substitute  human 
nerves  for  wires  and  the  alienist  takes 
the  place  of  the  electrician.  In  Tim 
Rainey's  case  it  was  golf — or,  to  be 
more  exact,  golf  and  Eunice  Walker — 
that  severed  the  connection.  He 
knotted  the  ends  himself,  without 
calling  in  an  expert.  But  the  bell 
which  he  set  ringing  had  no  push  but- 
ton control.  It  drowned  all  other 
sounds  on  the  switchboard. 

Nature  had  blessed  Tim  with  genius 
and  limitations.  She  never  meant 
that  he  should  have  a  golf  club  in  his 
hand.  Golf  set  all  those  nerve  wires 
writhing  and  arguing.  The  touch  of 
an  aeroplane's  lever  and  the  feel  of 
cloud  mist  on  his  face  made  them 
work  in  beautiful  unison.  He  was  a 
bom  aviator,  whom  Danbury  Rodd — 
still  in  this  year  1917  the  foremost 
aviator  of  the  day — had  found  a 
mechanic  in  his  shops  and  trained  for 
higher  things. 

,  There  was  no  work  too  trying,  no 
risk  too  great  for  Tim.  Rodd  loved 
him  no  less  for  his  freckle-faced,  sandy- 
haired,  transparent-natured  self  than 
for  his  skill.  When  Rodd  had  any 
difficult  task  leading  to  adventure  or 
to  profit  which  he  could  not  spare  the 
time  to  perform  in  person,  he  turned  it 
over  to  Tim.  Fortune  and  prizes 
came  fast  to  the  cub,  who  banked  the 
sums  that  flowed  in,  without  thought 
of  investment.  Some  time  he  would 
take   a   holiday,  and   have   a   regular 

86 


devil  of  a  time  spending  his  pile,  he 
said. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  still  more  exact 
to  include  Parker  Worthington  with 
golf  and  Eunice  Walker  in  severing 
the  connection.  Worthington  had  be- 
gun golf  soon  after  he  was  out  of  the 
creeping  stage  by  putting  across  the 
carpet  at  the  table  legs.  He  had 
nothing  to  do  but  play  all  his  life, 
except,  incidentally,  to  go  through  a 
university.  And  he  was  courting 
Eunice  by  means  of  golf. 

Eunice  was  a  type  of  the  outdoors 
girl  who  could  make  as  unconsciously 
clever  use  of  her  fingers  in  brushing 
back  a  wild  strand  of  hair  before  she 
made  a  drive  as  indoors  girls  can  of 
theirs  in  adjusting  a  hatpin  or  running 
a  piano  scale.  Yes,  Eunice  knew  how. 
The  day  after  he  met  her,  Tim  had  a 
set  of  clubs,  and  the  next  day  she  was 
giving  him  a  lesson.  Worthington 
appeared  in  the  course  of  that  lesson 
and  in  the  course  of  most  of  the  lessons 
that  followed.  He  offered  no  advice, 
but  looked  on  at  Tim's  struggles  in 
curious  wonder. 

There  were  moments  when  Tim 
longed  to  entice  Worthington  aboard 
an  aeroplane  for  a  flight  in  which  he 
would  clip  off  the  limbs  of  trees,  nick 
church  steef)les,  and  shooting  up  five 
thousand  feet,  descend  as  tipsily  as  a 
sheet  of  paper  falling  out  of  a  sky- 
scraper window.  But  it  was  part  of 
his  quixotic  stublx)rnness  and  chivalry, 
under  the  spell  of  his  double  infatua- 
tion, to  meet  Worthington  on  his  own 
ground — to  beat  him  at  his  own  game. 

A  Tim  Rainey  in  love  was  a  Tim 
Rainey  without  any  sense  of  propor- 
tion. He  loved  with  the  glor>'  of  flight 
and  the  actions  of  folly.  He  saw  golf 
as   the  only   way   to    Eunice's   heart. 


"You  know  what  effect  golf  has  on 
you  when  VVorthington  is  in  the 
neighborhood,"  Rodd  warned  Tim. 
V'ou  say  each  time  you  go  out  there, 
that  this  is  the  time  it  won't,  but  it 
always  does.  You  are  in  no  state  to 
stand  the  strain  of  such  recreation 
to-day .''.^Go  to  sleep,  I  tell  you,  and 
to-morrow  go  down  to  the  seashore 
and  play  in  the  sand  and  imagine  you 
are  a  clam  for  a  week — one  whole,  idle 
week — or  after  this  I  won't  trust  you 
to  take  mayors  and  millionaires  up  for 
little   circuits   around    the   field." 

And  Tim,  with  a  twitchy  smile, 
thanked  Rodd  and  resolutely  called 
for  his  golf  clubs. 

Eunice  and  Rodd  formed  the  gallery 
of  two  following  the  memorable  and 
tragic  exhibition  of  that  morning. 
Worthington  was  in  the  pink  of  con- 
dition. While  Tim  had  had  two  cups 
of  coffee  and  one  piece  of  toast  after 
being  up  all  night,  Worthington,  know- 
ing the  physiologic  and  psychologic 
effects  of  the  juice  of  a  single  coffee  bean 
on  your  put,  had  drunk  nothing  but 
malted  milk  for  breakfast  and  had 
eaten  three  dishes  of  Flaky  Toast 
Dreams.  Four  would  have  been  too 
many;  three  were  just  enough.  His 
swing  was  rhythmic;  his  face  as  calm 
as  we  imagine  Plato's  might  have  been 
after  an  evening  meal  al  fresco  in 
pleasant  weather. 

Tim  had  the  expression  of  Israel 
Putnam  rushing  Fort  Ticonderoga. 
His  stiff  sinews  and  joints  were  work- 
ing at  cross  purposes.  He  used  his 
driver  as  if  it  were  a  sledge-hammer, 
his  putter  as  if  it  were  a  curling  iron. 
He  sliced,  foozled,  pulled  and  ran  his 
hands  through  his  sandy  hair  desper- 
ately, in  keeping  with  the  charm  of  his 
earnestness,  sincerity  and  simplicity  of 
character. 

If  he  had  not  been  so  earnest  and 
sincere  he  might  have  known  that  this 
was  not  the  way  to  win  a  girl.  Eunice 
was  smiling  all  the  time — encourag- 
ingly, she  said.  When  Tim  looked  up 
he  tried  not  to  look  at  her  face.  When 
he  looked  down  he  could  not  see  the 
ball. 

"Isn't  he  too  funny  ?"  she  whispered 
to  Rodd.  She  was  paying  no  atten- 
tion at  all  to  Worthington's  playing. 

Rodd  was  boiling  at  the  sight  of  a 
great  pilot  of  the  air  being  made 
ridiculous  by  a  petty,  pottering,  earth- 
ly, silly  game,  fit  only  for  kangaroos 
and  jumping  beetles. 

"No,  he  is  a  man  !"  he  said  grittily. 
"It  is  golf  that's  funny." 

Eunice  shrugged  her  shoulders, 
quivering  with  merriment,  and  after- 
wards surveyed  Rodd  in  the  superior 
manner  of  a  don  coming  down  to  the 
primer  class. 

"Golf,"  she  announced,  with  im- 
pressive solemnity,  "is  a  serious  mat- 
ter, a  test  of  all-round  qualities." 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"Such  as  a  pancake  has  '  Well,  if 
this  cures  him  it  is  all  I  ask,"  he  replied. 
Then  she  could  have  all  the  courses  in 
the  country  and  Worthington  too; 
though  it  was  a  pity  that  she  should 
throw  herself  away,  he  thought  with  a 
twinge,  on  that  empty,  unwired  human 
structure  which  had  never  had  an 
emotion. 

"Why,  I  wouldn't  have  Tim  cured 
for  anything,"  she  said.  "It  might 
change  him — spoil  him." 

Tim  was  eight  down  at  the  eighth 
hole,  frazzled  but  still  fighting.  He 
got  a  decent  drive  off  the  ninth — his 
first  one — but  he  sliced  into  the  swamp 
with  his  brassie.  It  was  all  up.  He 
was  routed,  goose-egged,  humiliated. 
He  watched  his  ball  sink  among  the 
cat-tails  and  regarded  his  club  head 
as  if  it  had  been  a  cobra's  expanded 
hood.  The  others  guessed  his  sul- 
phuric thought,  which,  happily,  was 
denied  profane  voice  in  public  shame. 
What  they  did  not  know  was  that  this 
slice  had  severed  a  nerve  wire,  and  he 
was  his  own  electrician,  scraping  the 
insulation  off  the  ends. 

When,  finally,  he  didilook  up,  his 
sandy  features  had  the  calm  of  a  hot 
sunset  and  the  same  decided  manner 
of  withdrawing  from  the  scene.  He 
called  for  his  bag,  and  taking  out  the 
balls,  said : 


97 

"I  can  throw  them,  anyway.  Join 
your  brother,  fiends  !  It's  evidently 
where  you  want  to  go.  I  won't  try  to 
keep  you  any  longer." 

After  them  went  his  clubs  in  so 
many  whizzing  cartwheels. 

"As  for  the  bag,"  he  told  the  caddy, 
"take  it  home  for  an  umbrella  stand 
for  your  mother,  or  an  ash-bucket. 
Perhaps  an  ash-bucket  is  better." 

He  laughed  in  a  far-away,  rattling 
fashion.  He  made  a  wrenching  gesture 
—and  it  was  then  that  he  must  have 
tied  the  ends  of  the  wires  together  and 
the  bell  began  ringing  down  the  line. 
Without  a  word  he  set  off  across  the 
fairway  toward   the  aero-station. 

"Extraordinarv  !"      said      Parker 


"it's  IIORT  down,"  H>  was  SAYINQ  DAZKOLY,  "but  if  I  OCT  A  GOOD  HlASSr,  I  MAT  DO  TSAT 
STICK  or  PKPPIKMINT  CANDY  AT  HIS  OWN  CAMS  YIT" 


98 

Worthington-  a  remark  safe,  correct 
and   characteristic. 

Eunice  did  not  notice  that  he  had 
spoken.  Puzzled  and  frowning,  she 
stared  after  Tim. 

"But,  Tim— Tim  !"  she  called. 

Unless  he  had  grown  deaf  he  must 
have  heard  her,  yet  he  did  not  even 
glance  back  over  his  shoulder. 

When  she  understood  that  he  was 
not  going  to  answer,  that  he  was  going 
without  a  word  like  one  suddenly 
bereft  of  all  knowledge  of  present  sur- 
roundings, with  his  mind  set  on  another 
goal,  she  seemed  to  lose  her  temper. 

"You — you,"  she  began  at  Rodd, 
"you've  spoiled  everything  !"  And 
then  she  turned  red  and  bit  her  lip 
over  her  own  words. 

"Spoiled  your  sport  with  a  man 
destined  for  greater  things  !"  answered 
Rodd,  who,  out  of  some  instinctive  fear 
on  Tim's  account,  found  no  humor  in 
the  situation.  If  ever  a  girl  had  dis- 
gusted him  she  had.  She  seemed  cap- 
able of  something  worth  while,  but 
when  you  were  most  expecting  an 
illustration    she    disappointed    you. 

"No  !  ■  no  !  You  don't  under- 
stand !"  he  heard  her  saying  as  he 
hastened  after  Tim,  who  was  racing 
along  at  heel-and-toe  gait. 

No  one  knew  so  well  as  Danbury 
Rodd  that  the  more  complicated  the 
machine  which  man  invents,  the  more 
complicated  he  must  be  to  run  it.  A 
single  screw  ofT  a  piano-wire  brace  or  a 
little  extra  pressure  on  one  of  the 
blood-vessels  of  the  head  and  there  is 
a  tragedy. 

The  aero-station  was  hidden  by  a 
bend  in  the  road  and  when  Rodd  turned 
it  he  saw  that  Tim  had  his  machine 
out  of  the  shed  preparatory  to  flight. 
He  was  in  the  seat,  a  sinuous,  high- 
strung,  dynamic  figure,  wonderful 
now,  in  his  own  kingdom.  He  gave 
his  old  master  a  look,  piercing,  quizzi- 
cal, supernatural,  centering  with  a 
kind  of  telescopic  intensity  on  the 
distant  skyline.  He  seemed  a  being 
projected  out  of  its  mortal  frame — 
nothing  but  eyes  and  some  wild  force 
behind    them. 

"You  suggested  clams  and  the  sea- 
shore," he  said,  in  a  voice  that  was  in 
keeping  with  his  appearance,  a  voice 
trickling,  distant,  detached,  speaking 
to  the  mountain-tops.  "I  go  you  one 
better.  I'm  off  to  the  coral  reefs  of 
Bermuda  to  imagine  that  I'm  a  golden 
glowfish,  and  I'll  blow  up  in  atomic 
particles  of  sunrise  and  be  dissipated 
in  the  heavens.  Raindrops  to  the 
ocean !  Star-dust  to  the  stars  !  Chaos 
stirred  with  a  putter  !     Good-by  !" 

The  motor  sounded  his  farewell. 
Rodd  had  sprung  forward  in  alarm, 
only  to  spring  back  as  the  brace-ends 
brushed  his  coat. 

"It  isn't  the  aviation  screw  that  is 
loose,"    he    thought,    as    he    saw    the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

Swallow,  Tim's  plane,  sweeping  up- 
ward and  feeling  for  the  right  strata 
before  it  chose  its  course  at  terrific 
speed  a  thousand  feet  above  the  earth. 
"I  ought  to  have  thrown  myself  in 
front  of  him  !  There's  the  devil  work- 
ing in  his  mind — yes,  I  ought,  even  if  it 
had  broken  my  arm  and  smashed  the 
plane  !  I  mighty  chase  him — "  But 
by  that  time  the  Swallow  was  little 
larger  than  its  namesake,  melting  into 
a  gathering  cloud. 

Rodd  turned  on  himself  for  his 
stupidity.  He  who  had  met  so  many 
emergencies  with  instant  action  had 
been  thrown  into  a  coma  of  conjecture 
at  the  sight  of  his  beloved  Tim — his 
genius  of  the  clouds — gone  stark,  star- 
ing mad. 

It  was  barely  twenty-four  hours' 
run,  in  anything  like  average  weather, 
for  a  plane  to  Bermuda  in  the  year 
1917.  A  week  passed,  with  no  report 
of  Tim's  arrival  to  searching  cables  of 
inquiry. 

"Bermuda  was  a  ruse,"  Rodd  tried 
to  reassure  himself.  "Tim  has  simply 
awakened  to  his  condition,  that's  all. 
He's  gone  to  some  unknown  spot  to 
fish  and  hunt,  and  he  will  fly  back  to 
the  shed  one  of  these  days,  right  as 
rain." 

One  morning,  soon  after  this,  when 
Rodd  landed  at  the  station  on  the  roof 
of  the  Great  Century  Hotel,  he  had 
information  from  an  unexpected 
quarter. 

"Everything  was  in  good  running 
shape  when  Mr.  Rainey  left  here," 
said  the  liveried  attendant.  "His 
auxiliary  tank  was  full  to  the  last  drop 
of  its  capacity.  Why,  he  had  enough 
gasoline  to  take  him  to  Panama." 

"Left  here  ?"  inquired  Rodd  greedily, 
believing  that  he  was  to  hear  some- 
thing which  would  prove  the  correct- 
ness of  his  theory. 

"Yes,  on  his  way  to  Bermuda," 
answered  the  attendant. 

"How  long  did  he  stop  ?" 

"About  fifteen  minutes,  I  should 
say.     He  went  out  on  some  errand." 

Where  ?  Of  course  the  attendant 
did  not  know.  It  would  take  about 
fifteen  minutes  for  Tim  to  reach  his 
bank,  Rodd  reasoned.  He  hastened 
there  and  learned  from  the  cashier 
that  Mr.  Rainey  had  withdrawn  his 
entire  deposit,  amounting  to  some 
forty  thousa'nd  dollars,  in  cash. 

"Naturally,  it  is  unusual  for  any- 
one to  carry  that  amount  of  currency 
about  in  these  days,"  said  the  cashier, 
"but  of  course  I  did  not  ask  any  ques- 
tions." 

There  was  nothing  further  to  learn 
from  him  except  that  Tim  had  said  he 
did  not  want  gold,  as  that  would  be 
too  heavy  to  carry  on  a  long  aeroplane 
trip. 

"Yes,  he  had  a  package  under  his 
arm,    when    he    returned,"    said    the 


Oeat  C^entury  attendant  when  he  wa,-> 
questioned  further.  "I  remember,  now 
I  come  to  think  of  it,  that  he  said, 
'Nothing  like  [)lenty  of  lubricant." 
when  he  stowed  the  package  in  the 
aluminum  t(jol  chest." 

"How  was  he  hxjking  ?"  Rodd  in- 
(juired. 

"Why,  well  and  gingery  as  ever; 
perhaps  a  little  tired.  He  got  awa\- 
at  once." 

Some  skippers  reported  bad  weather 
on  the  Bermuda  path,  tending  to  sup- 
port the  theor>'  of  the  press  of  "another 
plane  lost  at  sea" — that  kind  of  news 
had  already  lost  its  novelty — which 
was  corroborated  definitely  when  a 
fisherman  picked  up  a  bottle  off  the 
Jersey  coast  containing  this  message 
in  Tim's  handwriting. 

"Pretty  blowy.  Hope  the  main 
plane  rods  are  not  going  to  buckle  on 
me.  If  they  do,  it's  good-bye  every- 
body from  T.  Rainey." 

Stardust  to  the  stars  !  Drops  of 
water  to  the  ocean  !  Thus  Tim  had 
gone  and  with  him  all  his  earnings  ! 
Aviation  was  a  game  with  death;  but 
Tim,  in  his  youth,  his  eccentricity,  his 
charm  and  boyish  sincerity,  deserved  a 
better  fate.  It  was  like  the  loss  of  a 
brother  to  Rodd. 

When  he  met  Eunice  Walker  on  the 
street,  he  found  himself  gripping  his 
resentment  toward  her  as  the  cause  of 
Tim's  ruin,  lest  it  should  break  out  in 
a  storm  of  reproach  to  all  flirts.  He 
hoped  to  pass  her  with  a  bow,  but  she 
stepped  fairly  in  front  of  him  and  he 
had  to  parley. 

"How  is  golf  ?"  he  asked  lightly, 
looking  down  the  street  as  if  he  were 
missing  an  engagement. 

"I  ha\en't  played  lately,"  she 
answered,  in  a  strained  voice,  "not 
since" — there  her  voice  was  breaking, 
he  might  ha\e  observed  if  he  had 
cared  to. 

He  interrupted  her  almost  harshly, 
determined  that  she  should  not  bring 
up  the  subject  of  Tim.  She  was 
unworthy  to  mention  his  memory,  he 
thought. 

"And  Worthington  ?"  Rodd  con- 
tinued. 

"Oh,  he's  gone  abroad.  He — and 
Tim  ?  Tim  ?"  she  demanded  sud- 
denly. 

"He  has  not  played  lately,  either," 
said  Rodd,  in  bitter  sarcasm;  and  then 
the  misery  of  her  question  was  borne 
in  on  him.  He  looked  into  her  eyes, 
which  were  swimming,  and  saw  the 
lids  drop  while  her  hand  went  out  to 
his  arm  as  if  to  steady  herself  under 
his  punishing  blow. 

A  mortal  change  had  come  over  the 
girl.  He  could  see  now  what  lay 
underneath  her  golf  manner.  It 
shone  resplendent  out  of  her  being. 
Recovering  herself  she  spoke  with  a 
brave  confidence   the  one  idea  which 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


00 


still    gave  [him  private  hope  against 
all  skepticism. 

"I  don't  believe  he  is  dead  !       It's 

something     else — perhaps     it's     more 

terrible,"  she  said.     "Tim  would  not 

have    thought  of 

writingc'any  note. 

He  is^too  intense, 

too  much  the  man 

of  action,    to    be 

hunting  pencil  and 

paper  in  [a  blow. 

No,    his    o  nje 

thought  would 

have  been  to  keep 

that    main    rod 

from   buckling. 

There   is  nothing 

you   can    d  o — 

nothing  ?'" 

"Only  wait,"  he 

answered    gently. 
"Nothing !"  she 

repeated  dismal- 
ly. "Oh,  you  didn't 

understand  how  I 

felt     about    Tim, 

and  I  did  not  know 

what     a    fool     I 

was  !"   And,  as  if 

afraid  of  her  own 

words,  disconso- 
lately,    brokenly, 

confusedly,  she 

turned  away. 
"Women  !" 

mused  Rodd. 
"Long  after  we 
know  all  about 
the  air-currents 

we  shall   still    be 

studying  them  !" 
Ever  since  flight 
had  begun,  one 
startling  possibili- 
ty had  dwelt  in 
the  back  of  Dan- 
bury  Rodd's  head. 
It  was  the  anar- 
chy of  mischief 
which  a  clever, 
irresponsible  avi- 
ator in  the  full 
development  of 
the  science  might 
loose  if  he  chose. 
Three  weeks  after 
Tim  Rainey  had 
sliced  with  his 
brassy  for  the  last 
time  came  a  sen- 
sation that  awak- 
ened the  police 
forces  of  the  world 
to   their  earth-tie<l   clumsiness. 

On  that  memorable  hot  morning  in 
August  when  the  players  in  all  our 
broad  land,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific,  as  the  orators  say,  were  dream- 
ing of  a  week-end  on  the  links,  light 
sleepers  among   the   residents   in    the 


immediate  vicinity  of  the  Sherbrooke 
course  were  awakened  by  a  series  of 
low  explosions,  which,  if  they  had 
counted,  would  have  numbered  exactly 
eighteen.  The  greenkeepers  who  went 
on  duty  at  seven  found  that  all  the 


"HOLD  rAST  t"  CKIEO  RODD,  AND  SIIK  OPKNED  HER  BYBS  TO  SBB  THE  WRECK  OF  THE  SWALLOW  LYING 
TANGLED  AMONG  THE  TOPS  OF  THE    PINES  BELOW  THEM 


putting  greens  had  been  transformed 
into  "traps,"  as  it  were.  Every  hole 
was  the  center  of  a  basin  of  pulverized 
earth  and  sand. 

We  have  the  opinion  of  Colonel 
Thayer,  of  the  ordnance  (retired) — 
who  would  have  made  an  eighty  once 


if  General  Smith  had  not  ruined  his 
put  on  the  seventeenth  by  humming 
an  air — that  the  work  could  not  have 
been  done  better  if  the  greens  had 
been  charged  with  an  explosive  and 
regularly  wired  to  a  central  station. 
Two  neighboring 
courses,  the  Wawa- 
mis  and  the  Toto- 
ket,  had  suffered 
the  same  ravages, 
presumably  by  the 
same  unseen  hand. 
On  Sunday  morn- 
ing it  was  the 
turn  of  three  other 
courses;  on  Mon- 
day, which  was 
also  a  holiday,  of 
five. 

Its  reputation  as 
a  promoter  of  blue 
oaths  which  golf 
had  won  was  sus- 
tained by  a  rising, 
nation-wide 
chorus.  This  was 
villainy,  felony,  as- 
sassination, an  in- 
terference with  the 
right  of  any  citizen 
to  lose  as  many 
seventy-five  cent 
golf  balls  as  he 
chose. 

The  Golf  Asso- 
ciationthad  a  pre- 
sident who  acted 
promptly.  He  was 
the  author  of  that 
ringing  phrase,  "If 
you  hesitate  too 
long  between  the 
mashie  and  the 
spoon  you  will 
foozle  anyway," 
one  which  will  skim 
over  the  bunkers 
of  history  with 
"We  have  met  the 
enemy  and  they 
are  ours."  He 
sent  out  notices 
that  all  greenkeep- 
ers should  be  arm- 
ed and  report  for 
duty  at  three  a.m. 
But  Tuesday, 
not  being  a  holi- 
day, passed  with- 
out further  des- 
truction. So  did 
Wednesday.  On 
Wednesday  night 
golf-players  slept 
Thursday  morning 
were  able  to  pro- 
business    without 


better,  and  on 
most  of  them 
ceed  with  their 
outbursts  of  incoherency  which  made 
young  lady  stenographers  blush. 
A  peaceful  Friday  lulled  them  into 
Continued  on  page  141. 


s  The  Silver  King 

REVIVED  IN  LONDON  TO  CELEBRATE  THE   KNIGHTING  OF  THE  PLAYWRIGHT 

BY  KING  GEORGE.     IT  WAS   WRITTEN  WHEN  SIR  HENRY  WAS  A  YOUNG 

AUTHOR    SEEKING    RECOGNITION   IN  THE  THEATRICAL  WORLD    AND 

WON  HIM  HIS  FIRST  SUCCESS  AT  THE  PRINCESS  THEATRE  IN  1882. 

STRIKINGLY  DIFFERENT  FROM  THE  POLITE  COMEDIES  BY  WHICH 

HE  IS  GENERALLY  KNOWN.  IT  IS  FULL  OF  THE  RED  BLOOD 

AND  SWIFT  EMOTIONS  OF  YOUTH.      IT  IS  HERE  RETOLD 

IN  STORY  FORM  BY  THE  PLAYWRIGHT'S   OWN  SON, 

RECENTLY  A  SUCCESSFUL  JOURNALIST 

IN  WESTERN  CANADA 

By  Sir  Henry  Arthur  Jones 

Retold  by  his  son,  Lucien  Arthur  Jones 


PATACAKE  had  won  the  Eng- 
lish Derby,  beating  Blue  Ribbon 
by  a  short  head.  Just  those  few 
inches  between  the  two  horses 
meant  final  ruin  for  Wilfred  Denver. 
And  Geoffrey  Ware,  former  suitor  of 
Nelly,  Denver's  wife,  was  glad.  Nelly 
would  now  surely  recognize  the  differ- 
ence between  her  husband,  a  drunken, 
gambling  sot,  and  himself,  commonly 
believed  a  respectable  hardworking 
engineer.  To  the  world,  that  was  the 
kind  of  man  Geoffrey  Ware  was.  To 
the  under-world — well,  its  denizens 
knew  better. 

Ware  strolled  down  to  "The  Wheat- 
sheaf  Inn,"  just  off  the  Strand,  a  snug 
little  place  frequented  by  crooks  of  every 
description.  There  Denver  night  by 
night  for  the  past  few  years  had  slowly 
seen  his  fortune  slip  away  from  him. 
Ware  chuckled  as  he  hurried  along  to 
hear  the  gratifying  details  of  Denver's 
last  attempt  to  get  square. 

"Well,  what  about  Denver  ?"  he 
asked  Bilcher,  one  of  the  racing  crooks. 

"Doubled  up  this  time  and  no 
mistake.  Went  a  smasher  on  Blue 
Ribbon  and  lost  everything.  Owes  me 
a  hundred  besides." 

Ware  laughed  cynically. 

"You're  sure  you  cleaned  him  out  ?" 
he  said. 

"He's  through  this  time.  Thanks 
for  introducing  him  to  me." 

"How  did  he  take  it  ?" 

"Oh,  tried  to  laugh  it  off.  He's 
pretty  well  drunk.  He  was  drunk 
when  we  started." 

"Well,  I'll  come  back  here  and  have 
a  look  at  him  later  on,"  said  Ware. 

"Wilfred  Denver  ruined,"  he  thought 
to  himself  as  he  walked  slowly  down  the 
Strand  to  his  lodgings.  "Now,  Nelly 
Hathaway,  I  think  you  will  find  you 
made  a  slight  mistake  when  you  threw 
me  over  for  him." 

100 


Back  in  the  bar-room  of  "The 
Wheatsheaf"  comments  on  Wilfred. 
Denver's  luck  were  being  frequently 
passed.  "Poor  fellow,"  said  Tubbs,  the 
fat  landlord,  "I  feel  downright  sorry 
for  him.  He's  a  good-hearted  young 
fellow  is  Mr.  Denver." 

"When  he's  sober,"  said  one  of  the 
drinkers. 

"And  that  ain't  been  for  the  last  six 
months,"  remarked  Bilcher  dryly. 

"Why  I've  seen "     The  rest  of 

his  remarks  were  lost  in  the  clink  of 
glasses.  Old  Jaikes,  the  faithful  family 
retainer  of  the  Denver  family  for  two 
generations,  had  entered.  He  belonged 
to  the  type  that  is  fast  disappearing  in 
England.  Jaikes  looked  around  for  his 
master. 

Tubbs  nodded  salute.  "You  must 
give  him  a  little  extra  time  to-night, 
Jaikes,"  he  said. 

"Ah,  but  he'll  be  early  to-night," 
replied  Jaikes.  "He  promised  the 
missus  he  would,  and  I  want  to  ketch 
him  and  pop  him  off  to  bed  quietlike 
afore  she  sets  eyes  on  him,  d'ye  see  ?" 

"He's  been  going  the  pace  a  bit 
lately,  ain't  he  ?" 

"Well,  he's  a  bit  wild,  but  there's  no 
harm  in  him.  It's  in  his  blood.  His 
father  was  just  like  him  when  he  was  a 
young  man.  Larking,  drinking,  hunt- 
ing, fighting — out  all  night  and  as 
fresh  as  a  daisy  in  the  morning.  And 
his  grandfather  before  him.  There  was 
a  man  if  you  like.  Never  went  to  bed 
sober  for  ten  years,  except  once  when 
the  groom  locked  him  in  the  stable  all 
night  by  mistake." 

There  was  a  general  laugh  at  Jaikes' 
account  of  Denver's  grand-parent. 

"Never  mind,  he's  all  right  1"  said 
Jaikes. 

"Yes,  I'm  alri'."  Denver  had  rolled 
into  the  bar  to  overhear  the  last  part 
of   his   servant's  conversation.      "I'm 


alri,"  "  he  repeated.  "I'm  as  drunk  as 
a  fool,  and  I've  lost  every  cursed 
penny  I  have  in  the  world." 

"Did  you  back  the  wrong  horse,  Mr. 
Denver  ?"  asked  Tubbs. 

"No,  I  backed  the  right  horse,  but 
the  wrong  horse  won." 

"Well,  you  seem  pretty  merry  over 
it,"  said  Bilcher. 

"Yes,  Bilcher,  quite  merry.  I've 
lost  my  money,  and  to-morrow  I  shall 
lose  your  acquaintance.  I'm  satisfied 
with  the  bargain." 

Old  Jaikes  had  been  listening  to  the 
conversation  with  a  sorrowful  expres- 
sion on  his  face.  "Come  on,  Master 
Will,"  he  said,  "you'd  better  come 
home." 

"Home,"  cried  Denver.  "What 
should  I  go  home  for  ?  To  show  my 
wife  what  a  drunken  brute  she  has  for 
a  husband  ?  I've  got  no  home.  I've 
drunk  it  up.    Get  home  with  yourself." 

Old  Jaikes  left.  Persuasion,  he  felt, 
in  Denver's  condition  was  useless. 

Denver  watched  Jaikes  go.  Then  he 
furtively  drew  a  revolver  from  his 
pocket.  "There's  always  one  way  of 
doing  it,"  he  said  to  himself. 

Baxter,,  a  detective,  who  had  been 
drinking  at  the  bar,  watched  Denver. 
He  crossed  over  and  spoke  to  him  in  a 
low  voice.  "If  you  don't  know  what 
to  do  with  that  give  it  to  me,"  he  said. 

"I  know  what  to  do  with  it,"  said 
Denver,  as  he  slipped  it  into  his  pocket 
again. 

The  bar-room  was  fast  filling  up. 
Sports  back  from  the  Derby  were 
pausing  to  have  a  final  drink. 

'Enery  Corkett,  Geoffrey  Ware's 
clerk,  was  amongst  these.  He  was 
flush  with  five  hundred  pounds.  He 
had  conveniently  borrowed  eighty 
pounds  from  Ware's  safe.  He  had  won, 
and  to-night  he  would  "repay"  the 
money. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


101 


"I'll  play  you  billiards  for  any  old 
sum  you  like,"  said  Denver  to  Corkett. 
He  was  hoping  that  his  luck  would 
turn.  "Come  on,"  said  Corkett.  A 
crowd  followed  the  pair  into  the 
billiard  room,  lea\ing  the  bar  empty. 
Baxter  alone  remained  behind.  Two 
persons  were  just  entering  in  whom  he 
was  very  much  interested.  They  were 
Captain  Herbert  Skinner,  gentleman 
crook,  better  known  as  "The  Spider," 
and  Eliah  Coombe,  receiver  of  stolen 
goods. 

"A  big  fortune  for  us  all,"  whispered 
Coombe  to  the  former.  "A  sackful  of 
diamonds  in  Hatton  Garden.  No 
danger,  and  as  safe  as  saying  your 
prayers." 

"How  do  we  get  in  ?"  asked  Skinner. 

"Through  the  wall  of  the  next  house." 

Meanwhile  Corkett  had  returned 
from  the  billiard  room.  "Beat  'im 
proper,!  did,"  he  cried  in  a  swaggering 
voice,   "What'll  you  'ave  ?" 

"Coombe,"  said  "The  Spider,"  "just 
relieve  that  young  fool  of  his  wad, 
while  I  throw  Baxter  off  the  scent." 

Coombe  sidled  up  to  Corkett  and 
deftly  picked  his  pocket. 

"Now,  gents,"  said  CorKCtt,  "we'll 
'ave  a  bottle  of  champagne."  He 
reached  to  his  packet  for  his  money. 
He  stopped  short  suddenly.  "Here  !" 
he  cried.  "Somebody  has  stolen  my 
money.  I'm  ruined,  you  know,  I'm 
ruined  !"  he  cried  piteously, 

"I  know  who  got  it,"  said  Tubbs.  He 
described  Baxter,  who  had  left  on  the 
trail  of  Skinner.  "•>  'ffj^ii  p| 

"Come  on,"  said  Coombe,  "We'll 
get  him." 

The  two  brushed  against  Ware  as 
he  entered  to  gloat  over  the  downfall 
of  his  rival 

"Well,  well,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of 
assumed  cordiality.     "How  are  you  ?" 

"I'm  three  parts  drunk  and  the  rest 
mad,  Geoffrey  Ware,  so  keep  out  of  my 
way." 

"Nonsense,  you're  looking  fine.  I'm 
so  glad  for  Nelly's  sake." 

Denver  staggered  to  his  feet.  "For 
whose  sake  ?"  he  questioned  fiercely. 

"Mrs.  Denver — excuse  a  slip  of  the 
tongue.  She  was  once  engaged  to  me, 
you  know." 

"Yes,"  replied  Denver,  "and  she'll 
stick  to  me  through  thick  and  thin." 
He  cursed  Ware,  lashing  him  with  fine 
scorn,  sure  in  the  knowledge  that 
Nelly  in  no  circumstances  would  ever 
become  his  wife. 

Ware  laughed  a  reply.  He  had  little 
fear  of  Denver.  It  was  pleasant  to 
prod  his  rival,  and  he  continued  his 
running  fire  of  satirical  comment. 

The  fire  flashed  in  Denver's  eyes  as 
he  listened  to  Ware.  "The  devil's  in 
me  to-night,"  he  told  Ware.  "Take 
care  of  yourself." 

Ware  told  him  to  give  his  best 
regards  to  Nelly.    The  taunt  was  too 


much  for  Denver.  Rising  from  the 
table,  he  picked  up  his  glass  and 
dashed  the  contents  into  the  other's 
face. 

Ware  started  back.  Den\  er  lurched 
forward,  vowing  vengeance. 

"Take  that  man  away,"  he  cried 
hoarsely.  "Take  him  away  before  I 
kill  him."  His  words  were  significant 
of  what  was  to  come. 

Tubbs  and  Bilcher  hastened  forward 
and  seized  Denver.  Drunk  as  he  was, 
he  had  the  strength  of  a  giant  at  that 
moment.  Then  followed  the  anti- 
climax. After  vainly  struggling  for  a 
few  moments  Denver  sank  down  with 
his  head  on  the  table.  It  was  a  pitiable 
spectacle — that  of  a  man  sunk  to  the 
lowest  depths. 

So  Nelly  found  her  husband,  when 
she  came  in  to  find  him,  as  Jaikes  had 
done  earhcr  in  the  evening.  She  offered 
no  reproaches.  She  had  merely  ex- 
pected it.  Gently  she  stroked  his  hair 
as  she  stood  over  him.  Denver  started 
up  as  he  felt  the  familiar  touch.  "You 
here,  Nelly  ?"  he  said, 
"in   a  place  like  this  ?" 

"My  place  is  by  your 
side,"  she  replied. 


r 


"Not  by  a  husband  such  as  I  am," 
answered  Denver.  "Go  home,  my 
darling,  I  will  come  later." 

Geoffrey  W'are  stood  by  their  side 
still  smiling  cynically.  Again  he  com- 
menced his  biting  words.  Nelly  sank 
to  a  chair.  She  had  no  reply  to  make. 
Denver  pulled  himself  together.  "You 
cur,"  he  said,  rushing  at  Ware.  "You 
shall  answer  to  me  for  this." 

Nelly  placed  herself  between  them. 
Roughly  Denver  brushed  his  wife 
aside.  Ware,  now  thoroughly  alarmed, 
ran  out  of  the  inn.  Denver  followed 
him.  "I  will  kill  you.  I  will  kill  you," 
he  shouted  hysterically  as  he  rushed 
after  him. 

II. 

Naturally  Corkett  had  not  been 
successful  in  his  search  for  his  lost  five 
hundred  pounds,  as  he  made  his  search 
with  Coombe.  He  was  beginning  now 
to  be  really  afraid.  He  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  how  he  was  to  repay  the 
eighty  pounds  that  he  had  "borrowed"- 
from  his  employer.  Prison  walls  were 
looming  up  in  front  of  him.  Finally  he 
confessed  his  troubles  to  Coombe. 

"I'm  Ware's  clerk,  you   know,"   he 


THE  PLAYWRIGHT  AT  BOMB  IN  PORTLAND  PLACK 


102 

said,  "and  I'm  pretty  sure  he'll  be 
hard  on  me." 

Coombe  remarked  that  in  all  prob- 
ability he  would  get  fourteen  years 
penal  servitude.  Then  he  said  casually, 
"Live  at  114  Hatton  Garden,  don't 
you  ?" 

Corkett  smiled  assent. 

"Well,  I'll  help  you  out  if  you  care 
to  do  something  for  me.  A  friend  of 
mine  wants  to  take  some  photographic 
views  of  London  by  night,  and  he'd 
like  the  use  of  your  employer's  sitting- 
room  for  half  an  hour." 

Corkett  glanced  at  his  friend  sus- 
piciously. He  felt  that  it  was  not  quite 
right.  But  he  had  no  option  in  the 
matter.     It  was  that  or  prison.     "All 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

right,"  he  said,  "I'll  do  what  you 
want." 

They  proceeded  in  the  direction  of 
Ware's  apartments  in  Hatton  Garden. 
There  was  no  light  in  the  window. 
Evidently  Ware  had  gone  out  for  the 
evening.  Everything  seemed  propi- 
tious. By  arrangement  "The  Spider" 
and  Cripps,  the  third  member  of  their 
gang,  were  waiting  outside.  Cripps  was 
an  expert  safe  cracker.  Corkett  un- 
latched the  door  for  them.  "That's 
enough  for  me,"  he  said,  and  he 
vanished  quickly. 

The  safe  containing  the  diamonds 
could  be  easily  reached  by  boring 
through  the  wall  in  Ware's  sitting- 
room. 


Skinner  took  off  his  immaculate 
evening  dress  and  preceded  to  business. 
The  gang  worked  silently  with  expert 
touch  for  a  few  moments.  A  noise  in 
the  hall  below  interrupted  them. 
"Quick,  Coombe,"  whispered  Skinner, 
"see  what  that  is." 

Coombe  slid  quietly  downstairs.  He 
returned  a  moment  later. 

"It's  that  drunken  Denver,"  he 
announced.  "He's  swearing  he'll  come 
up  and  kill  Ware." 

Coombe  and  Skinner  heaved  a  sigh 
of  relief.  "Let  him  come  up,"  said  the 
latter.     "I'll  soon  quiet  him." 

Skinner  and  Coombe  stood  behind 
the  door,  while  Denver  entered  the 
Continued  on  page  152. 


Concerning  Greta  Greer 


Part  IV. 


WHEREIN  SEVERAL  STRANGE  THINGS  ARE  CLEARED  UP,  BUT  THE  ANCIENT 
AND  UNFATHOMABLE  MYSTERY  OF  LOVE  REMAINS  UNSOLVED 

By  Madge  Macbeth 

Illustrated  by  Elisabeth  Telling 

SYNOPSIS.— Dr.  Dare,  specialist  in  insanity  and  crime  cases,  has  shipped  as  surgeon  on  a  transatlantic  liner,  and  meets  Greta  Greer, 
a  tall,  reserved  girl  invariably  gowned  in  green.  She  is  strangely  moved  on  learning  his  chosen  profession,  and  he  becomes  aware  that  she  has 
some  mystery  weighing  on  her  mind. 

The_  second  day  out  he  learns  that  there  has  been  a  daring  robbery  of  emeralds  at  Montreal,  by  some  woman,  and  that  they  will  be  searched 
on  arriving  in  England.  Mrs.  Threckmeyer,  a  cheerfully  ungrammatical  matron.  Miss  Kelly,  a  little  school-teacher,  who  gives  the  impression 
of  looking  particularly  well  before  she  leaps,  and  Billy  Cunningham,  a  former  classmate  of  Dare's,  and  now  a  detective,  discuss  the  case  excitedly. 
Dare  feels  instinctively  that  Cunningham,  at  least,  has  his  eye  on  Miss  Greer,  and  determines  to  protect  her  if  need  should  arise.  Suddenly 
Mrs.  Threckmeyer  sends  for  Dr.  Dare  and  Cunningham,  and  confides  that  she  has  just  discovered  Mrs.  Beaufort's  jewels  hidden  in  her  hand-bag, 
along  with  a  note  from  her  niece,  Jean,  saying  that  she  has  broken  out  in  a  new  place,  and  wonders  if  her  aunt  will  ever  forgive  her.  Since  she 
used  to  be  a  victim  of  kleptomania,  Mrs.  Threckmeyer  is  sure  she  has  stolen  the  Beaufort  jewels  and  in  a  fit  of  remorse,  put  them  in  her  aunt's 
bag.  Billy  Cunningham  receives  the  news  with  delight,  crying  "Heaven  bless  dear  little  Jean.  Believe  me,  it's  awful  to  be  in  love  !"  and  rushes 
off  to  the  Marconi-man.  That  night  he  dives  overboard,  md  is  rescued,  jaunty  and  debonair  as  ever,  refusing  any  explanation.  Dare  learns 
th  it  Greta  Greer  is  trying  to  fight  the  habit  of  smoking  hashish,  and  revolves  a  plan  to  cure  her.  He  tells  her  that  she  is  sjspected  of  the 
Beaufort  robbery,  and  she  is  horrified.     He  asks  her  to  marry  him,  and  she  asks,  "  Do  you — are  you  sure  you  want  me?" 


CHAPTER  X. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning, 
Gregory  Myles  and  Dare  met  in 
Cunningham's  stateroom.  He  looked 
particularly  fit  after  his  dive  the  night 
before,  although  he  had  not,  at  the 
hour,  exchanged  his  lavender  pajamas 
and  cerulean-tinted  dressing  gown  for 
the  more  sombre,  conventional  garb 
society  decrees.  There  was  nowhere 
to  sit,  the  chairs,  couch,  berth  and 
floor  being  covered  with  papers,  so  the 
two  men  stood  in  amused  silence 
regarding  the  affable  Billy,  who  smiled 
benignly  on  them  over  his  cup  of 
coffee. 

"Be  seated,  gentlemen,  while  I 
finish  my  breakfast  !  Be  careful, 
Ellis  boy,  don't  fold  up  those  films — 
that's  better,  we  will  hang  them  over 
the  electric  light  until  we  need  them." 

A  space  cleared,  the  captain  and  his 


companion  sat  down  and  waited  for 
Cunningham  to  speak. 

Wiping  his  lips  with  elaborate  nicety, 
he  began: 

"I  suppose  you  want  the  whole 
story,  do  you — old  gossip-mongers  ? 
Well,  here  goes. 

"About  a  week  ago  I  was  having  a 
quiet,  peaceful  and  wholly  enjoyable 
lunch  with  la — well,  a  lady  of  my 
acquaintance, — and  we  were  deciding 
just  how  to  put  in  the  afternoon,  when 
I  got  a  message  calling  me  at  once  to 
the  office.  Annoyed  at  having  to 
curtail  our  day's  enjoyment  I  bade  my 
companion  farewell  and  bolted.  It 
was  nothing  of  great  importance, 
except  that  tlie  chief  hankered  for  me — 
such  a  doting  old  chap  ! — and  I  was 
just  preparing  to  sneak  when  every 
'phone  in  the  place  got  to  work  on  the 
Beaufort     case, — and     I     was     really 


wanted.  An  hour  is  not  much  time  to 
get  data  for  a  case  like  that,  but  with 
my  usual  energetic  methods  I  managed 
to  scrape  some  information  together 
and  cafch  this  boat.  At  first,  I  must 
admit  that  a  good  deal  of  nasty  sus- 
picion was  thrown  on — "  he  hesitated, 
looking  keenly  at  the  captain.  Dare 
supplied  the  name. 

"Miss  Greer  ?" 

"Just  so,  Ellis.  It  looked  peculiar, 
but  I  never  place  much  dependence  on 
appearances — not  as  long  as  there  is  a 
pictograph  working." 

"What  is  a  pictograph  ?"  asked  the 
captain. 

Cunningham  pulled  a  suit  case  from 
under  his  berth  and  opened  it.  It  was 
filled  with  yards  of  the  transparent 
paper  ordinary  photo  films  are  made  of, 
and  this  paper  was  attached  to  a  flat 
box   somewhat    resembling   a    folding 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


103 


"look  herb,"  said  billy  CUNNINGHAM,  DISPLAYING  A  ROLL  OF  DEVELOPED  PHOTOGRAPHIC  FILM. 

"do  YOU  RECOGNIZE  THE  PORTRAIT  ?" 


kodak.  Upon  closer  inspection  Dare 
discovered  that  the  paper  was  marked 
with   quite  distinct   pictures. 

"My  own  invention,"  announced 
Billy  with  pride — "the  pictograph. 
Something  suggested  by  the  success  of 
the  dictograph  and  other  delicate 
recording  machines.  It  is,  as  you  see, 
a  small,  box-like  machine  resembling  a 
folding  kodak,  only  it  is  much  thinner. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  a  combination 
of  moving  picture  machine  and  camera 
working  automatically  and  noiselessly. 
There  is  a  diminutive  time  lock"  (he 
touched  a  small  screw)  "which  releases 
a  cf)g  holding  both  the  shutter  and 
re\<)lving  spools.  I  shall  not  go  into  it 
very  scientifically  at  present,  for  you 
want  the  rest  of  the  story,  but  will 
merely  say  that  I  can  put  in  a  roll,  set 
my  lock  for  a  certain  time,  and  the 
machine  will  conmience  to  work,  taking 
pictures  for  an  hour  from  the  time  set. 
I  then  develop  the  films  and  make  out 
an  indisputable  case." 

He  sorted  a  number  of  strijjs  by 
holding  them  to  the  light  and  con- 
tinued.     "There    were    three    possible 


guilty  persons  on  board  this  boat — 
Miss  Greer,  Mrs.  Threckmeyer  and 
one  other.  Never  mind  why,  but 
there  were.  You  both  will  be  sur- 
prised I  fancy,  when  you  hear  the 
name  of  the  third  suspect." 

Dare  thought  hastily  of  Hobson, 
Judson  and  the  women  at  the  captain's 
table;  of  a  crotchety  dame  and  her 
spinster  daughter,  of  his  neighbor  with 
double  chins.  But  Billy  laughed  and 
went  on.  "The  pictograph  can  be 
placed  almost  anywhere — as  long  as 
the  small  opening  for  exposure  is  not 
covered.  See  ?"  he  put  it  amongst 
the  life  preservers  over  his  berth  and 
,left  only  the  protruding  button  un- 
covered. It  looked,  even  after  close 
observation,  like  a  screw  head  in  the 
rack.  He  put  it  against  his  port  hole 
and  arranged  a  few  strips  of  wood 
across  it  so  that  it  looked  like  a  portion 
of  the  ornamental  wood  work;  he  fixed 
a  piece  of  tin  in  front  of  it  and  one 
could  imagine  it  an  ordinary  meter 
such  as  are  common  for  registering  the 
consumption  of  electric  light. 

After  satisfying  himself  that  his  two 


listeners  were  assured  of  the  unlimited 
advantages  of  his  invention,  Cunning- 
ham again  took  up  the  story. 

"I  set  three  machines  and  placed 
them.  Miss  Greer,  I  early  discovered, 
was  more  than  likely  innocent." 

In  a  very  subtle  manner,  Billy 
Cunningham  adopted  a  sort  of  imper- 
sonal tone  not  too  professional  to  be 
intensely  interestinjg,  but  sufficiently 
so  to  preclude  any  idea  of  imperti- 
nence on  his  part.  If  there  could  be  a 
way  to  excuse  oneself  for  the  most 
intimate  prying,  he  did  so,  easily  and 
without  apology.  After  the  first  revul- 
sion of  feeling  that  he  should  have 
looked  upon  what  Dare  considered 
almost  sacred,  the  doctor  listened  with 
utmost  absorption  to  his  friend. 

"This  photograph,  by  which  I  mean 
the  film  taken  from  the  machine  the 
first  time  Miss  Greer  left  her  stateroom, 
shows  her  presumably  asleep.  There 
are  only  a  few  variations  from  the 
recumbent  position — this  one  showing 
her  with  a  cigarette,  and  the  last 
showing  her  annoyance  when  the 
stewardess  came  to  the  door.     It  was 


JUi 

impossible  to  connect  her  with  the  case 
after  having  the  second  roll  developed 
— after  putting  two  and  two  together, 
I  discovered  how  treacherous  a  thing 
circumstantial  evidence  is." 

Dare  looked  with  mingled  feelings 
at  the  photos.  He  shrank  from  them 
in  much  the  same  way  that  he  would 
resent  the  suggestion  of  placing  his 
eye  to  the  key-hole  of  Greta  Greer's 
door.  At  the  same  time  they  bore 
upon  the  case — not  merely  the  Beau- 
fort case,  but  his  own,  in  so  intimate  a 
manner,  that  he  felt  he  could  look,  and 
yet  not  stretch  a  point  of  honor. 

He  saw  the  girl  arrange  her  room 
with  the  trophies  she  had  spoken  of — 
wreaths,  garlands,  pictures,  bits  of. 
armor — she  crowded  them  in  every 
available  way  so  that  they  could  be 
seen  from  her  berth;  he  saw  her  drape 
herself  in  a  Grecian  costume,  complete 
even  to  odd  bits  of  jewelry;  he  saw  her 
carefully  select  a  cigarette,  light  it  and 
compose  herself,  after  what  was  appar- 
ently a  long  time  spent  in  dreaming. 
He  saw  her  awakening  after  one  of 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

these  sleeps  and  could  feel  acutely  the 
mute  tragedy  of  her  suffering.  He 
lost  himself  for  a  moment  and  did  not 
see  the  pictures  Billy  held  out  to  him. 

"These  are  different — full  of  motion 
— you  can  almost  hear  the  voice,  can't 
you  ?" 

Dare  passed  the  first  strip  to  the 
captain  and  took  the  second  from 
Cunningham's  hand. 

Instantly  he  recognized  Mrs.  Threck- 
meyer  in  her  crowded,  clothes-stuffed 
stateroom.  He  saw  her  open  her  gold 
mesh  bag,  surprised,  then  annoyed, 
as  she  took  <Sut  the  forgotten  note  and 
read  it.  Horror,  terror  showed  next, 
followed  by  a  paroxysm  of  weeping. 
There  were  several  pictures  showing 
her  studying  a  newspaper  or  re-reading 
the  note.  Then  there  was  one  which 
showed  her  finding  the  bag  of  jewels. 

"I  was  wild  with  excitement  when 
I  got  that,"  grinned  Billy.  "It  was,  by 
the  way,  just  before  we  had  our  little 
talk,  Dare,  that  she  went  out  of  her 
room  and  I  could  get  at  the  machine. 
It  threw  a  very  different  light  on  all 


my  well  planned  theories,  and  serious 
things  might  have  happened  if  I  had 
not  set  the  other  machine  for  the  same 
time  and  got  this  result." 

He  took  a  large  roll  of  films  from  the 
suit  case  and  those  from  the  electric 
light,  fitting  them  together. 

"They  are,"  he  said,  "views  of  the 
stateroom  belonging  to  one  Blanche 
Craig,  alias- Lady  B.,  alias  Busy  Bee, 
one  of  the  cleverest  'light-fingers'  of  our 
time."  »  * 

The  captain  J  shook  his  head.  "I 
don't  know  oflany  passenger  named 
Craig,"  he  saij,  walking  to  the  port 
hole  where  Dare  had  already  com- 
menced to  unroll  the  film.  Then,  with 
an  exclamation  he  turned  back  to 
Cunningham. 

"The  Kelly  woman  !" 

Billy  laughed.  "I  thought  you  would 
be  surprised,"  he  said.  "Between  our- 
selves, I  nearly  was  myself.  Then 
anticipating  many  questions,  Billy 
explained,  "You  know  all  of  these 
crooks  sooner  or  later  make  a  mistake 
Continued  on  page  134. 


The  Man  Who  Used  Commonsense 

IN  SIR  WILLIAM  WHYTE'S  DEATH,  THE  WEST  HAS  LOST  A  WISE  AND  FAR- 
SIGHTED   BUILDER.    A  BRAVE   AND    LOYAL    SPIRIT,   AND  A   GOOD 
NEIGHBOR    TO  ALL  THE  WORLD —MANY    PEOPLE  SAY  THE 
WEST'S  MOST  DISTINGUISHED  PRIVATE  CITIZEN 


WITH  the  death  last  month  of 
SirWilliam  Whyte,  there  pass- 
ed perhaps  the  best  loved  man 
in  public  affairs  in  Western 
Canada,  and  certainly  a  man  who  had 
as  much  to  do  with  the  making  of 
the  country  west  of  the  Great  Lakes 
as  any  one  other  man,. not  excepting 
the  late  Lord  Strathcona. 

When  he  retired  from  active  service 
with  the  Canadian  Pacific  in  1912, 
that  eminently  practical  and  hard- 
headed  business  corporation  made  him 
a  director  of  the  company,  as  many 
said,  "for  sentimental  reasons." 

For  twenty-five  years,  Sir  William 
had  been  the  western  overlord  of 
Canada's  pioneer  sea-to-sea  railway, 
and  he  was  about  to  retire  from  the 
positis)n  of  vice-president.  Three 
years  earlier  he  had  passed  the  age 
limit,  and  at  that  time  the  only  reason 
he  remained  in  active  charge  of  affairs 
was  that  the  company  urged  him  to  do 
so.  He  was  recognized  as  a  man  of 
peculiar  administrative  genius,  keen 
insightPand  sound  judgment.       King 


By  John  Arbuthnotte 

George  had  knighted  him  for  his  im- 
portant part  in  the  maintenance  of 
an  imperial  highway  across  Canada. 
Many  other  honors  had  come  to  him. 
But  the  real  reason  for  his  appoint- 
ment as  a  director  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific,  the  significant  thing  that 
made  it  distinctive  in  the  business 
world,  was  the  recognition  by  that 
austere  corporation  of  the  value  of 
sentiment  in  business.  Western  Can- 
ada loved  Sir  William  Whyte,  and  the 
railway  company  recognized  the  value 
of  that  sentiment  in  cold  dollars  and 
cents  to  itself.  With  the  rapid  de- 
velopment bf  Western  Canada  Sir 
William  Whyte's  personal  influence 
meant  "business"  to  the  road. 

The  regard  in  which  Sir  William  was 
held  by  Western  Canada  made  itself 
manifest  at  the  time  of  his  death  in 
columns  of  tributes  in  the  newspapers 
from  almost  every  man  of  note  in  his 
own  province  and  its  western  neighbors. 
Sir  Rodmond  Roblin,  Sir  Douglas 
Cameron,  Sir  Hugh  John  Macdonald, 
Ex-Mayor  Waugh,  of   Winnipeg,    the 


Hon.  Robert  Rogers,  all  spoke  for 
Manitoba  and  for  themselves.  Dozens 
of  others  representing  almost  all  fields 
of  human  endeavor  from  colleges  to 
packing-houses  united  in  expressing 
their  sense  of  personal  loss  and  their 
appreciation  of  what  Sir  William's 
life-work  meant  to  Western  Canada. 
The  curling  clubs,  the  street  railways, 
the  newspaper  men,  the  politicians, 
the  grain  men,  even  the  police  force 
and  the  harbor-masters  all  mourned 
for  him  and  praised  him.  Thousands 
of  others — the  rank-and-file  of  the 
west — voicelessly  grieved  over  the  loss 
of  a  personal  friend. 

Now  such  a  spontaneousand  country- 
wide tribute  as  this  does  not  result 
from  power  or  place  or  brilliant 
achiev-ements  alone.  Sir  William 
Whyte  was  through  all  of  his  life,  a 
good  neighbor  to  his  fellows.  When 
there  was  a  nice  question  to  decide  in 
Winnipeg,  where  he  had  lived  for  more 
than  twenty-five  years,  it  was  to  him 
that  the  parties  at  issue  went,  and 
what    is    more,    they    abided    by    his 


decision.  When  there  was  grief  on 
the  western  division  of  the  big  sea-to- 
sea  Hne,  it  was  Sir  William  Whyte 
that  straightened  it  out.  And  when 
he  had  once  met  a  man,  be  he  the 
Governor-General  of  the  Dominion, 
or  Jim  Johnson  who  took  Number  Six 
out  on  the  night  run  from  Brandon, 
he  knew  that  man's  face  and  name 
again  though  he  met  him  five  years 
later  on  Yonge  Street  and  he  had 
grown  a  vandyke  beard. 

On  the  night  of  the  dinner  when  Sir 
William  resigned  his  vice-presidency 
to  become  a  director  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific,  all  Winnipeg  turned  out  to  do 
him  honor.  For  twenty-five  years  he 
had  been  their  friend.  Most  of  the 
men  at  the  banquet  had  done  business 
with  him,  and  they  knew  him  for  a 
man  of  remarkable  executive  ability, 
shrewdness  and  grasp  of  business. 
But  men  have  had  all  those  qualities, 
perhaps  even  in  larger  measure  than 
Sir  William,  and  their  fellows  hated 
the  sight  of  their  shoe-prints— witness, 
for  example,  Cecil  Rhodes.  No  cor- 
poration ever  gave  Cecil  Rhodes  any- 
thing for  a  sentimental  reason;  no 
neighbor  ever  went  to  him  to  settle  a 
difficulty;  no  engineer  ever  "let  her 
out  a  piece"  because  he  had  Cecil 
Rhodes  behind  him  and  Cecil  knew 
that  he,  Jim  Johnson,  was  up  in  the 
cab,  and  had  asked  how  his  boy  Dick 
was  doing  in  the  agricultural  college. 
It  was  sentiment  that  gave  Sir  William 
Whyte  that  directorship — not  cold 
hard  business  ability  alone.  The 
engine-driver  or  station  agent  who 
feels  that  he  is  personally  known  to  the 
vice-president  takes  a  pride  in  his  job 
that  a  man  working  for  that  inde- 
finite and  soulless  thing  called  "the 
company"  never  will  entertain.  And 
it  was  sentiment  that  prompted  those 
columns  of  affectionate  sorrow  that 
appeared  in  the  Winnipeg  papers  when 
his  multitude  of  friends  in  every  walk 
of  life  heard  that  Sir  William  Whyte 
had  gone  on  into  the  shadow. 

Sir  William  understood  Western 
Canada,  and  understood  the  station- 
agent  sitting  behind  his  key,  for  he 
sat  there  once  himself,  long  before 
King  George's  sword  rattled  on  his 
shoulder.  Somebody  once  showed  him 
a  biographical  notice  of  himself  in  a 
"Who's  Who"  of  famous  men.  He 
regarded    it    consideringly: 

"Whyte,  William.  Born  Skpt. 
15th,  1843,  Charlestown,  Fifeshire, 
Scotland;  received  early  training 
North  British  Railway  Company; 
CAME  TO  Canada  1863;  accepted 
position  at  Cobourg,  Ontario,  with 
the  Grand  Trunk  Railway- — ■" 

Sir  William  laid  down  the  biography 
and  ran  one  hand  through  his  thick 
white  hair,  a  canny  Scotch  twinkle 
lurking  in  his  eye. 

"Accepted  a  position,"  he  repeated, 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

with  a  touch  of  the  Fifeshire  burr  in 
his  voice.  "Those  are  not  exactly 
the  worrds.  In  eighteen  sixty-three  I 
was  going  about  with  a  verra  thin 
seat  to  my  breeches,  and  when  I  roped 
and  threw  that  job  of  freight  handler 
in  Cobourg  I  was  one  of  the  most 
thankful  lads  in  Canada.  Accepted  ! 
Man,  I  had  to  have  that  job  !" 

And,  looking  at  the  shrewd,  deter- 


THE  LATE  SIR  WILLIAM  WHYTE 

mined  eyes  of  him,  one  was  instantly 
convinced  that  whenever  he,  as  "Wil- 
liam," "Mr.  Whyte,"  or  "Sir  William 
Whyte,"  felt  that  he  had  to  have 
anything,  he  took  it  by  the  throat  and 
held  on  until  it  came  obediently  to 
heel. 

In  1863  big  railways  were  not  stand- 
ing around  waiting  to  offer  "positions" 
to  stray  Scotch  youngsters,  any  more 
than  they  are  now,  and  when  young 
William  was  authorized  to  handle  a 
baggage  truck  on  Cobourg  platform 
while  his  boss  went  up  to  the  post- 
office  to  talk  politics,  he  had  only  just 
begun.  But  he  handled  his  truck 
well  and  didn't  mix  up  his  waybills, 
and  presently  he  was  transferred  from 
sleepy  Cobourg  to  Toronto.  Later  he 
became  yardmaster  at  Toronto  where 
the  moguls  backed  up  and  backed 
down  at  the  crooking  f)f  his  finger, 
and  even  the  profanity  of  the  yard- 
engine  drivers  was  stilled.  By  1870 
he  was  handling  the  night  station 
agency  at  Toronto  and  a  year  later 
did  notably  good  work  as  freight  and 
station  agent  at  Stratford,  Ontario. 
In  1884  he  switched  from  the  Grand 
Trunk  to  the  Canadian  Pacific  Rail- 


105 

way,  becoming  general  superintendent 
of  the  western  division  in  1886,  his 
headquarters  being  at  Winnipeg  and 
his  jurisdiction  extending  over  1,455 
miles  of  main  line  and  over  700  miles 
of  branch  line,  the  trackage  lying 
mainly  in  Saskatchewan  and  Mani- 
toba, and  tapping  the  country  where 
the  red  elevator  goes  up  ahead  of  the 
post-office  when  the  little  new  towns 
start  growing  along  the  pushing  fingers 
of  steel. 

In  May,  1897,  he  became  general 
manager  of  all  the  Canadian  Pacific 
lines  between  Lake  Superior  and  the 
Pacific  Coast,  and  in  1901  he  was 
appointed  assistant  to  the  president 
and  relieved  from  all  routine  work  in 
order  to  look  after  the  extension  of  the 
system  in  the  west.  In  furtherance 
of  this  duty,  in  1901  he  made  a  trip 
through  Russia  over  the  newly-con- 
structed Trans-Siberian  Railway,  and 
in  1903  was  appointed  second  vice- 
president  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Rail- 
way. 

Since  1886,  which  was  the  date  of  his 
advent  in  the  West,  that  part  of  the 
system  lying  between  the  Great  Lakes 
and  the  Pacific  underwent  a  great 
transformation.  The  chain  of  Can- 
adian Pacific  hotels  extending  across 
Western  Canada;  the  huge  mines  of 
the  company  in  British  Columbia;  the 
elevators  at  the  lake  terminals;  the 
fleet  of  Empress  steamers  plying  be- 
tween Vancouver  and  the  Orient,  are  a 
few  tangible  evidences  of  the  real 
development  of  the  property  after  it 
came  under  Sir  William  Whyte's  juris- 
diction. 

At  the  time  of  the  extension  of  his 
term  of  service  his  position  in  the 
business  world  of  Western  Canada  was 
an  important  one.  He  was  the  direct- 
ing head  in  Winnipeg  of  the  Winnipeg 
street  railway,  vice-president  of  the 
Standard  Trust  Company,  director  of 
the  Confederation  Life  Association, 
and  a  director  of  the  British  Columbia 
Southern  Railway.  During  his  entire 
association  with  the  Canadian  Pacific 
he  stood  consistently  for  business 
development.  In  1886  the  line  was 
still  in  the  experimental  stage,  and 
the  value  of  investment  in  Canadian 
projects  questioned  by  a  good  many 
apparently  far-sighted  business  men. 
But  Sir  William  knew  the  country, 
and  steadily  urged  a  continuance  of  the 
policy  of  expansion,  advocating  the 
construction  of  additional  mileage  and 
providing  of  better  equipment.  In 
all  large  commercial  undertakings  he 
took  a  deep  interest,  and  in  addition 
to  furthering  the  interests  of  the  rail- 
way on  every  occasion,  he  never  missed 
an  opportunity  to  encourage  an  infant 
industry. 

At  the  beginning  of  1911  Sir  William 
announced    the    programme    on    the 
Continued  on  page  131. 


spinal  Maginnis,  Essayist 

DR.  TASSIE  INAUGURATES  A  COMPETITION  IN  ENGLISH   AND 
THE  "BACK  ROOM"  PLACES  A  FEW  SIDE  BETS 

By  John  Patrick  Mackenzie 


Illustrated  by  A.  W.  Grann 


ADJUSTING  his  eye  glasses  pre- 
cisely with  his  left,  Dr.  Tassie 
with     his     good     right     hand 
brought   the.  fifth   reader   into 
exact  position,  displaying  in  his  action 
that  dignified  accuracy  which  invari- 
ably compelled  admiration. 

Even  the  refractory  Upper  Third  on 
the  "circular  bench,"  most  of  whose 
members  had,  until  now,  successfully 
resisted  in  the  Lower  Third  the  ty- 
rant's high  handed  efforts  to  develop  a 
vein  of  scholarship  by  persistent  ham- 
mering at  their  adamantine  stubborn- 
ness ;  even  these,  like  the  banished  cav- 
aliers, when,  in  exile,  they  saw  Crom- 
well's pikemen  charging  against  the 
flower  of  the  infantry  of  Spain,  could 
scarce  restrain  exclamations  of  enthus- 
iasm at  sight  of  the  exceedingly  good 
form  displayed  by  a  worthy  foe.  And 
Chummy  Jones,  in. the  spirit  in  which 
he  would  commend  a  straight  bat  at 
cricket,  or  a  clean  shot  at  the  lacrosse 
goal,  whispered  to  Satan  Nixon,  "Well 
played,  indeed,  sir  !"  causing  that  ever 
guileless  youth  to  snicker  and  thereby 
arouse  hopes  among  his  fellows  that  the 
class  would  once  more  be  treated  to  the 
spectacle,  so  common  in  their  Lower 
Third  days,  of  a  public  administration 
of  the  tawse. 

But  "Old  Bill"  evidently  had  some- 
thing unusually  absorbing  on  his  mind, 
for  he  failed  to  grasp  the  opportunity. 
With  left  foot  advanced  and  his 
Olympian  head  well  thrown  back,  he 
gave  voice  to  his  familiar  slogan,  invari- 
able prelude  to  important  proclama- 
tions or  sentences,  "Ah,  h'm  !  h'm  ! 
h'm  !"  and  began: 

"In  order  to  encourage  in  this  de- 
plorably backward  class  a  higher  con- 
ception of  the  beauties  of  literature,  it 
is  my  intention  to  offer  a  prize  for 
competition,  and,  in  explanation  of 
the  conditions  of  the  contest,  I  shall 
read  to  you  from  an  advanced  text 
book  a  masterpiece  which  has  had  a 
marked  influence  in  forming  the  taste 
of  many  of  my  upper  school  pupils  in 
the  past,  as  well  as,  I  may  say,  that  of 
multitudes  throughout  the  English- 
speaking  world.  I  refer  to  the  closing 
passage  of  the  peroration  of  Macaulay's 
review  of  Mitford's  History  of  Greece." 
Spinal  Maginnis  sat  up  straight,  feel- 
ing in  his  bones  that  something  had  to 

100 


"YE  MICHT  JUIST  CA    ON  ME,"  SAID  MUNGO,  SITTING 
BACK  WITH  A  CONTENTED  SIGH 

happen  when  "Old  Bill"  selected  that 
particular  essay  to  point  a  moral.  It 
was  historic  ground  to  Spinal,  for  in  his 
Lower  Third  days  he  had  scored  heavily 
on  the  tyrant  when  coached  to  recite 
that  part  of  it  which  he  called  "the 
perpetration."  He  still  gloated  over 
the  memory  of  the  enraptured  applause 
of  the  assembled  school  on  that  occa- 
sion, which  had  more  than  repaid  him 
for  a  severe  application  of  the  tawse 
resulting  from  "Old  Bill's"  lack  of 
appreciation  of  his  efforts.  So  he 
listened  withi keenest  attention  to  the 
reading,  which  began  where  his  recita- 
tion had  come  to  an  untimely  end,  and 
watched  for  an  opening  to  verify  the 
adage  that  history  repeats  itself. 

With  deep  musical  voice  and  sym- 
pathetic diction,  Dr.  Tassie  captured 
the  attention  of  the  most  stolid  and 
stubborn  of  the  hardened  veterans  as, 
with  fine  enthusiasm,  he  delivered  the 
flowing  sentences. 

Let  us  with  the  fascinated  semi- 
circle rise  above  the  commonplace  for 


a  time  and  listen  to  the  glorified  recital 
of  the  masterpiece. 

"The  dervise  in  the  Arabian  tale  did  not 
hesitate  to  abandon  to  his  comrade  the  camels 
with  their  load  of  jewels  and  gold,  while  he 
retained  the  casket  of  that  mysterious  juice 
which  enabled  him  to  behold  at  one  glance  all 
the  hidden  riches  of  the  universe.  Surely  it  is 
no  exaggeration  to  say  that  no  external  advant- 
age is  to  be  compared  with  that  purification 
of  the  intellectual  eye  which  gives  us  to  con- 
template the  infinite  wealth  of  the  mental 
world,  all  the  hoarded  treasures  of  its  primeval 
dynasties,  all  the  shapeless  ore  of  its  yet  unex- 
plored mines. 

"This  is  the  gift  of  Athens  to  man.  Her 
freedom  and  power  have  for  more  than  twenty 
centuries  been  annihilated;  her  people  have 
degenerated  into  timid  slaves;  her  language 
into  a  barbarous  jargon;  her  temples  have 
been  given  up  to  the  successive  depredations 
of  r<()mans,  Turks  and  Scotchmen;  but  her 
intellectual  empire  is  imperishable,  .^nd  when 
those  who  have  rivalled  her  greatness  shall 
have  shared  her  fate;  when  civilization  and 
knowledge  shall  have  fixed  their  abode  in 
distant  continents;  when  the  sceptre  shall 
have  passed  away  from  England;  when  per- 
haps travellers  from  distant  regions  shall  in 
vain  labor  to  decipher  on  some  mouldering 
pedestal  the  name  of  our  proudest  chief;  shall 
hear  savage  hymns  chanted  to  some  mis- 
shapen idol  over  the  ruined  dome  of  our  proud- 
est temple;  and  shall  see  a  single  naked  fisher- 
man wash  his  nets  in  the  river  of  the  ten 
thousand  masts; — ^her  influence  and  her  glory 
will  still  survive — fresh  in  eternal  youth, 
exempt  from  mutability  and  decay,  immortal 
as  the  intellectual  principle  from  which  they 
derive  their  origin  and  over  which  they  exercise 
their  control." 

As  Dr.  Tassie  resumed  his  seat  with 
the  impressive  air  of  one  who  has  done 
his  best  in  a  worthy  cause,  he  was 
gratified  to  see  an  immediate  result  of 
his  efforts,  for  the  egregiously  unim- 
pressionable class  sat  spellbound  for  at 
least  a  minute. 

Grasping  the  psychologic  moment, 
he  announced: 

"A  prize  will  be  given  for  the  best 
essay  written  by  a  member  of  this  class 
on  a  subject  suggested  by  the  passage 
which  I  have  read  to  you.  In  order  to 
popularize  the  event,  the  decision  will 
be  arrived  at  by  a  vote  of  the  assembled 
school.  Remember,  there  must  be  no 
external  assistance,  nor  help  of  any 
sort  not  accessible  to  all ;  nor  comparing 
of  notes;  nor  communication  of  any 
sort  on  the  subject  after  the  competi- 
tion has  begun. 

"Let  me  see — ,"  as  the  clock  struck 
twelve,  "Freeman,  remain.  Let  the 
others  wait  outside.     I  shall  give  you 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


107 


the  topic,  which  you  will  communicate 
to  your  classmates." 

After  due  consideration,  Dr.  Tassie 
wrote  in  his  beautiful  but  minute  hand 
on  a  slip  of  paper  from  which  he  read 
with  definite  satisfaction : 

"Seeking  for  hidden  treasures  of 
literature,"  and  handed  the  slip  to 
Harry  who  delivered  the  message  to 
the  scoffing  crew  outside. 

A  good  majority  of  the  class,  con- 
sumed with  curiosity,  was  waiting  at 
the  school  door  and  to  them  Harry 
repeated  the  title  fresh  from  Old  Bill's 
lips.  Spinal,  having  been  "stumped" 
during  class  by  the  equally  reckless 
Yankee  Dickinson,  who  had  displayed 
the  first  and  second  fingers  of  his  right 
hand  pointed  upward  like  a  V,  meaning 
"let's  go  for  a  swim,"  had  unloosed  all 
possible  buttons  during  class  and  had 
made  a  descent  down  the  steep  hill 
which  can  best  be  described  as  one 
long  dive  from  the  school  door  to  the 
river,  so  he  missed  Harry's  communi- 
cation and  came  panting  up  to  the  play 
room  door  just  in  time  to  comb  his 
dripping  hair  as  the  dinner  bell  was 
ringing.  Harry  handed  him  the  slip 
of  paper  over  the  dinner  table  saying, 
"You  can  keep  it;  it's  all  over  town  by 
this  time.  Guess  he's  struck  the  wrong 
crowd  in  this  house,  though ;  some  day- 
scholar'll  get  the  prize." 

"Uh  huh,"  Spinal  answered  indiffer- 
ently as  he  stuck  the  paper  in  his 
pocket. 

Just  then  Dr.  Tassie  took  his  seat 
and  said  grace  with  his  customary 
impressiveness.  Further  communica- 
tion   was    constantly    interrupted    by 


"OLD  BILL  SAID  OUT  IN  THE  HALL  THAT  IT  WAS  IN-COM-BAT-l-BLE  WITH  HUMAN  INTELLIGENCE,"  DBCLAKBD 
SPINAL,  "  AND  THAT  MEANS  INDISPUTABLE — DOESN'T  IT  ?" 


THE  I-l  rr;KARYlASPIV  \T10^TS  ' 
IHC  JUKI  OF 


such  sounds  as,  "bread  please,  bread 
please,  bread  please,  butter  please, 
butter  please,  butter  please,"  repeated 
down  the  long  table  like  a  Queen's 
Birthday  feu  de  joie  until  the  supply 
was  reached  and  started  on  its  way  in 
the  desired  direction. 

Spinal,  as  he  left  the  dining  room, 
looked  around  ready  for  a  challenge  to 
play  riding  duck  on  the  way  back  to 
school.  You  rolled  a 
stone  ahead  and  your 
opponent  tried  to  hit 
it  with  his  stone  and 
land  further  on,  in 
which  case  you  would 
ride  him  on  your  back 
from  your  stone  to 
his,  and  so  on. 

Spinal,  with  good 
competition,  had  been 
known  to  play  this 
game  all  the  way  to 
school  after  dinner 
and  get  there  on 
time.  However,  he 
did  not  happen  to  see 
any  of  the  best  ex- 
ponents of  the  game 
at  the  moment,  so  he 
stuck  his  hands  in 
his  pockets  and  idly 
glanced  at  the  slip 
of  paper  which  he 
found,  intending  to 
throw  it  away,  for  he 
had  not  considered 
the  contest  seriously 
as  a  sporting  propo- 
sition. 

But  instead  he  took 


>  WERE  THE  TALK  AND 

>  HOOL 


a  second  look,  opened  his  eyes  wide, 
deposited  the  slip  carefully  in  the 
inside  pocket  of  his  jacket  and  went 
off  by  himself  over  the  least  frequented 
road,  buried  in  thought,  until  he 
reached   the  school  door. 

Spinal's  announcement  that  he  was 
going  to  compete  created  a  sensation 
and  his  serious  attitude  did  much  to 
advertise  the  event. 

Throughout  all  the  stages  of  the 
competition  he  righteously  resisted 
every  overture  on  the  subject,  saying 
sturdily,  "Let's  play  the  game,  fellows. 
I'm  with  Old  Bill  in  this  first,  last  and 
all  the  time." 

"Old  Bill  will  be  with  you  at  the 
finish  and  no  one  near  to  help,  I  bet," 
someone  interrupted. 

Spinal  ignored  the  remark  and  con- 
tinued with  dignity,  "Don't  let's  talk 
about  it.  Old  Bill  said  we  weren't  to 
talk  about  the  assay." 

"The  what !"  inquired  the  back- 
room solicitously. 

"The  assay.  That's  as  far  as  I've 
gone — getting  that  word  right  and  I'm 
sure  of  it  anyway.  That's  right.  Look 
it  up,  Chummy,"  to  his  always  skep- 
tical and  exacting  critic. 

Spinal  had  privately  looked  the  word 
"essay"  up  as  a  starter  and  had 
unearthed  the  interesting  information 
that  "essay"  and  "assay"  had  originally 
been  "equivocals,"  which  he  now  made 
known  with  pride. 

"Most  of  your  words  are  that, 
Spinal,"  Chummy  replied,  but  he  made 
no  move  toward  the  dictionary,  having 
learned  by  experience  that  Spinal  was 
often  mysteriously  supported  by  it. 


108 

"Yes,  they  are  equivocals,  and  assay 
is  the  obsolute  form  which  shows  that 
it  is  obsolutely  right  to  use  it.  It  has 
a  secondary  meaning,  to  determine  the 
amount  of  precious  metal  in  anything. 
I'll  show  you  fellows  something 
precious." 

Yankee  Dickinson,  carried  away  by 
Spinal's  earnestness,  enthusiastically 
exclaimed,  "I'll  bet  anyone  the  sausage 
rolls  for  the  crowd  that  Spinal  wins  the 
prize." 

"I'll  take  that  myself.  It's  a  cinch," 
said  Spinal,  much  to  Yankee's  dismay, 
but  as  Spinal  assured  them  that  he 
would  do  his  best  to  win  and  the  bet 
would  make  no  difference,  the  back- 
room, as  it  would  be  ahead  either  way, 
decided  that  the  bet  stood. 

As  Mrs.  Knox's  sausage  rolls  were  a 
rare  delicacy  only  to  be  enjoyed  in 
flush  times,  excitement  ran  high     But 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

inasmuch  as  Spinal  was  known  to  have 
had  for  some  time  a  standing  ofTer 
from  his  father  of  five  dollars  whenever 
he  could  succeed  in  winning  a  prize, 
whereas  Yankee's  expectation  of  pay- 
ing in  the  event  of  his  losing  was  recog- 
nized to  be  characteristically  optimis- 
tic, a  rather  peculiar  situation  was  seen 
to  exist. 

If  Spinal  should  win  the  prize,  he 
would  lose  his  bet  and  would  have  five 
dollars  to  pay  it  with,  meaning  practic- 
ally unlimited  sausage  rolls.  If,  on  the 
other  hand.  Spinal  should  fail  to  win 
the  prize,  Yankee  would  lose  and, 
barring  miracles,  a  beggarly  half  a 
dozen  sausage  rolls  for  each  of  the 
eight  occupants  of  the  backroom  would 
be  the  maximum  purchasing  power  of 
his  monthly  allowance  after  a  known 
and  old-standing  debt  to  Mrs.  Knox 
had  been  satisfied,  and  at  that  they 


would  have  to  wait  until  the  end  of 
the  month. 

Chummy  Jones  dilated  upon  this 
feature  in  a  conference  with  Harry 
Freeman  and  Gabby  Wilkinson  which 
was  promptly  called,  these  three  con- 
stituting the  commissary  or  grub  com- 
mittee which  made  all  arrangements 
for  the  clandestine  spreads  held  when- 
ever any  of  the  backroom  boys  received 
a  box  from  home. 

"It's  no  use  doing  our  worst,"  Harry 
decided,  "for  then  some  dark  horse 
from  one  of  the  other  houses  would 
have  all  the  better  show." 

"We  must  all  get  busy — make  the 
air  so  thick  with  literature  that  Spinal 
will  just  have  to  pitch  in,"  Gabby  sug- 
gested. 

Chummy,  who  knew  his  school, 
agreed  with  his  colleagues  and  assured 
Continued  on  page  124. 


The  Masked  Cavalier 

By  Frank  Lee  Benedict 

Illustrated  by  Frederic  M.  Grant 


THE  two  girls  got  out  of  the 
carriage  at  the  great,  gloomy 
old  palace  where  Mrs.  Thor- 
wald  had  her  apartment,  and, 
after  laughing  adieus  to  that  lady, 
ran  down  the  street  to  their  own 
dwelling — another  desolate  looking  old 
place  only  a  short  distance  below. 

They  did  not  meet  a  living  creature, 
except  an  unhappy  dog  going  on  three 
legs,  and  a  still  more  decrepit  female, 
seated  on  a  curbstone,  plying  a  pair  of 
knitting  needles  and  muttering  so 
busily  to  herself  that  she  could  not 
afford  the  pair  even  a  glance. 

A  little  one-horse  conveyance — the 
style  of  vehicle  so  common  in  Rome — 
had  halted  at  the  comer  of  the  street, 
as  Mrs.  Thorwald's  carriage  drew  up 
before  the  door.  A  masked  man 
dressed  in  a  rich  cavalier's  costume,  got 
out,  paid  the  driver,  and  as  soon  as 
Mrs.  Thorwald  had  disappeared, 
hurried  toward  the  house  which  the 
girls  had  already  reached. 

It  was  the  height  of  the  Carnival 
season,  and  the  whole  Roman  world 
was  still  collected  on  the  Corso.  Mrs. 
Thorwald,  anxious  about  a  dinner  she 
was  to  give,  had  hastened  her  young 
friends  away  before  the  race,  which 
closes  each  afternoon's  wild  gayety; 
and  each  of  the  girls  privately  thought 
that  Mrs.  Thorwald  was  selfish  in 
spite  of  her  pretty  speeches  and 
coaxing  ways. 


ROSE  WRINKLED  HER  PRETTY  FOREHEAD 
OVER  THE  NOTE 


For  some  inexplicable  reason,  the 
doors  were  closed  when  they  arrived 
at  the  place,  and  Rose  Sanderson 
pounded  furiously  with  the  ponderous 
knocker,  which  made  noise  enough 
to  rouse  the  dead,  although  unheard, 
or  unheeded,  by  old  Assunta. 


While  Rose  hammered,  Geraldine 
Gray,  glancing  up  the  street,  became 
conscious  of  the  tall  man  marching 
onward  in  his  cavalier  dress.  %i 

"I  do  believe  Assunta  is  dead,"  ciied 
Rose.  "If  not,  I  could  end  her  miser- 
able, old  misspent  existence  with  great 
pleasure  the  instant  we  get  in, — if  we 
ever  do." 

There  was  no  answer  from  her 
companion.  She  was  too  busy  pound- 
ing with  the  knocker  and  anathematiz- 
ing Assunta  to  wonder  at  the  silence. 
Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that 
Geraldine  bore  the  delay  with  singular, 
not  to  say  aggravating,  composure. 
She  turned  to  discover  the  reason,  and 
saw  the  mask  close  to  the  great  door- 
way, in  whose  shadow  they  stood.  He 
was  holding  out  a  rose.  After  an 
instant's  pause,  Geraldine  took  it. 

"Well  !"  exclaimed  Rose,  dropping 
the  knocker  with  a  final  bang,  which 
sounded  like  a  young  cannon. 

The  cavalier  made  a  merry  gesture 
of  farewell,  and  darted  down  the  street. 
At  the  same  moment  the  door  opened, 
and  Assunta  appeared,  so  deafening  in 
her  loud-voiced  excuses,  that,  between 
her  desire  to  get  out  of  reach  of  the 
sound  and  her  determination  to  have 
an  explanation  from  Geraldine,  Rose 
rushed  her  companion  on,  and  left  the 
scolding  for  a  more  convenient  season. 
The  girls  mounted  the  first  flight  of 
steps  in  silence.    As  they  reached  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


[09 


landing    Rose   pulled    at   her   friend's 
dress  and  held  her  fast. 

"I  do  think  there  are  limits  to  what 
is  permissible,  even  in  Carnival  time," 
she  said  with  a  glance  at  the  red 
blossom  her  friend  held. 

"Mercy,"  returned  Geraldine 
laughing,  "a  lecture  on  prudence  is 
something  new  from  you,  Rose.  What 
have  I  done  ?" 

"I  saw  him  hanging  about  under  the 
balcony  half  a  dozen  times  to-day," 
pursued  Rose.  "You  needn't  think  I 
didn't  recognize  him." 

"How  observant  you  are,"  said 
Geraldine  admiringly. 

"I  wouldn't  be  deceitful,"  cried  Rose, 
reproachfully. 

"Persevere  in  that  good  resolution," 
returned  Geraldine.  "Dear  me,  puss, 
what  is  so  dreadful  in  my  taking  this 
pretty  flower — your  namesake  ?  If  it 
had  been  any  other  sort  I  might  have 
refused." 

This  teasing  reply  was  more  than 
Rose's  patience,  sorely  tried  by  Mrs. 
Thorwald's  selfishness  and  Assunta's 
delay,  could  endure.  She  walked  on 
up  stairs  with  dignity,  not  deigning  to 
look  behind  her.  Geraldine  followed 
more  leisurely,  and  took  the  oppor- 
tunity to  unwind  a  slip  of  paper,  care- 
fully folded  round  the  stem  of  the  rose, 
and  hide  it  in  her  purse.  At  the  door 
of  their  apartment,  Geraldine  overtook 
her  friend,  and  said  with  a  consoling 
pat: 

"Now,  don't  be  a  cross  rose-bud. 
I  didn't  mean  to  tease  you." 

"Tease  me  ?  The  idea  !"  she  said, 
neither  very  intelligibly  or  amiably, 
but  her  good  disposition  wasn't  pnwf 
against  Geraldine's  coaxing  way  and 
she  forgot  her  displeasure. 

"Come  and  see  papa,"  she  said. 
"I  want  to  go  to  my  room  first— then 
1   will,"  Geraldine  replied,  and  went 
her  way. 

Rose  passed  on  to  a  cosy  little  room 
where  Mr.  SandersKm  had  made  a 
combination  den  and  workroom.  Hav- 
ing sprained  his  ankle  a  week  earlier  he 
lived  in  the  one  rfxjm.  He  was  a  hand- 
some man,  with  the  marks  of  ill  health 
on  his  face,  and  a  certain  peevishness 
audible  in  his  voice. 

"So  you  are  back,"  he  said,  as  Rose 
entered.     "Aren't  you  early  ?" 

"Oh,  yes.  Mrs.  Thorwald  wr)uldn't 
wait  for  the  race,"  replied  Rose.  "Papa, 
she's  the  most  selfish  thing  I  ever 
knew  in  my  life." 

"Then  she  must  be  a  monster,"  said 
Mr.  Sanderson. 

"Have  you  had  much  pain  to-day  ?" 
she  asked. 

"No.  I  think  not  so  much  as  usual," 
he  re()lied,  making  the  admission  rather 
grudgingly.    "Where  is  Geraldine  ?" 

"She  went  to  her  own  room.  She  will 
be  in  presently.  Oh,  papa,  it  is  too 
bad  that  you  have  to  stay  shut  up  here 


at    the    Carni\  al 
time  !" 

"My  dear,  that 
is  just  a  specimen 
of  my  luck — just  ! 
However,  I  don't 
mind  missing  the 
Carnival  much. 
It  is  nothing  com- 
pared to  what  it 
was  when  I  used 
to  be  in  Italy." 

"Now  papa, 
don't  be  cynical. 
I  don't  believe 
there  ever  was  a 
finer  one.  I  wish 
that  ankle  of 
yours  was  well 
enough  for  you 
to  go  to  Mrs. 
Harriman's  din- 
ner. I've  got  the 
invitation  just 
now."  Rose 
wrinkled  her 
pretty  brows  over 
the  note. 

"My  dear,  the 
one  consolation  I 
have  found  in  my 
accident  is  the 
fact  that  I  am 
able  to  stay  away. 
That  woman's 
airs  and  affecta- 
tions are  more 
than  I  can  en- 
dure." 

"She  is  dread- 
ful," sighed  Rose. 

"However,  she  has  been  very  good- 
natured  about  taking  Geraldine  and 
me  out  since  we've  been  here/' 

"Because  Geraldine  is  an  heiress," 
he  replied;  "and  she  likes  the  glory. 
If  it  was  not  for  that  you  might  have 
stayed  shut  up  till  doomsday  before 
she  would  have  noticed  you  in  the 
least." 

Rose  didn't  pay  much  attention  to 
her  father's  bitterness.  She  was 
accustomed  to  his  grumbling,  and  it 
had  no  effect  upon  her  happy  disposi- 
tion. 

Geraldine  came  in  then,  and  the 
conversation  took  a  plcasanter  tone. 
Mr.  Sanderson  could  be  amusing  when 
he  could  forget  himself,  and  he  was 
invariably  kind  and  gentle  with  his 
ward.  He  had  hoped  once  to  see  her 
something  clo.scr,  but  since  his  son  had 
turned  out  a  disiippoinlnient,  he  had 
been  obliged  to  forget  that. 

Geraldine  Gray  was  twenty-one  now, 
and  she  had  come  to  live  with  the 
Sandersons  soon  after  her  sixteenth 
birthday.  Rose  was  two  years  younger, 
but,  from  the  first,  they  had  been  fast 
friends,  and  their  affection  had  only 
strengthened  during  these  years. 
Geraldine   had    been  an  orphan  from 


"I  FAIL  TO  SEE, "  BEGAN  MR.  SANDERSON.  AND  STOPPED.       "IF  THESE  MATTERS 

ARE  ABSOLUTELY  NECESSARY  TO  EXPLAIN  YOVR 
ESCAPADE,  GO  ON" 


early  childhood;  her  home  had  always 
been  with  an  aunt,  whose  death  made 
it  necessary  for  Mr.  Sanderson  to  rouse 
himself  sufficiently  out  of  his  accus- 
tomed indolence  to  take  charge  of  her 
and  her  affairs. 

Not  long  after  her  arrival — before 
they  had  gone  abroad — came  the 
news,  which  dashed  to  the  ground  the 
hopes  Mr.  Sanderson  had  been  weav- 
ing. Charley  was  twenty-one  then, 
just  raised  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant 
in  the  navy,  and  was  expected  home 
after  an  absence  of  three  years. 

He  did  not  come.  In  place  of  that 
came  tidings  that  he  had  resigned  his 
commission  to  escape  dismissal.  He 
had  been  mixed  up  in  some  wild  affair — 
had  struck  a  superior  officer,  and  away 
went  the  whole  fabric  of  dreams  that 
had  been  indulged  in  ov-er  the  boy's 
future.  There  ensued  a  brief,  angry 
correspondence  between  father  and 
son,  ending  in  the  father's  telling  the 
lad  he  never  wanted  to  see  or  hear  of 
him. 

Two  years  later  Mr.  Sanderson  took 

his    daughter    and    ward    to    Europe, 

where  he  would  have  settled  down  into 

a  disgruntled  old  hermit  if  it  had  not 

Continued  on  page  113. 


Qhe  ¥Oman  of  it 

^  oAIan  cAdair 

c/Tuthor  of  "THE  APOSTACY  OF  JULIAN  FULKE."  "jOAN."  etc. 

Illustrated  Qyy 
K^therinc  Southzoick 


synopsis:. 

This  novel  of  English  society  opens  with  a  prologue  showing  Robert  Sinclair  as  a  boy  in  Rome.  He  angers  his  father,  a  cashiered  captain,  by 
wanting  to  become  a  singer,  and  is  brutally  beaten.  Mother  and  son  leave  Rome  that  night,  the  boy  regretting  only  his  parting  with  his  playmate, 
Denzil  Merton. 

The  scene  changes  to  London.  Lord  Merton  is  giving  a  box  party  at  the  opera  for  the  family  of  a  Canadian  railway  man,  with  whose  daughter, 
Valerie  Monro,  he  is  deeply  in  love.  When  the  new  tenor  who  is  to  make  his  premier  in  the  role  of  the  Knight  Lohengrin  comes  on,  Merton  recog- 
nizes him  as  his  boyhood  friend,  Robert  Sinclair.  Valerie  is  strangely  impressed  by  the  tenor  but  chides  herself  for  being  as  silly  about  him  as 
the  other  women  of  the  party.  Merton  tells  her  he  is.  going  to  call  on  Sinclair  the  next  day,  which  he  does,  and  finds  Sinclair  eager  to  renew  their 
boyish  acquaintance.  Merton  tells  him  that  Valerie  wants  to  meet  him,  but  he  laughs  and  intimates  the  Lohengrin's  armour  has  dazzled  her  a 
little.  Merton  disclaims  this,  saying,  "She  is  not  like  that,"  and  when  Mrs.  Monro  sends  the  singer  a  card  for  her  next  ball,  Merton  persuades 
him  to  accept.  Valerie  perversely  snubs  him.  Later  in  the  evening  a  lighted  candle  falls  on  her,  and  Sinclair  puts  out  the  fire,  burning  his  hands. 
Valerie  attempts  to  thank  him,  and  ends  by  a  gust  of  hysterical  tears  which  washes  away  the  coldness  between  them.  They  start  afresh  on  their 
acquaintanceship,  and  she  invites  Sinclair  to  come  and  see  them.  However,  their  next  meeting  is  at  the  Duchess  of  Northshire's  musicale, 
where  Sinclair  is  a  lion.  She  promises  him  three  dances  at  Lady  Merton's  ball.  Feeling  intuitively  that  Merton  will  ask  her  to  marry  him, 
she  tells  herself,  "To-night  I  will  be  happy.  After  that,  the  deluge  !"  She  coquettes  with  Sinclair,  andprovokes  him  until  at  last  he  takes  her 
in  his  arms,  and  admits  that  he  loves  her.  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away,  saying,  "There  is  Denzil,  my  friend — and  yours."  She 
teljs  him,  "He  will  ask  me  to  marry  him,  to-night.  What  shall  I  say  to  him  ?"  Sinclair  grips  her  by  the  shoulder  and  says  fiercely:  "You  aren't 
going  to  marry  him  !  Do  you  hear  me  ?"  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away.  He  will  not  take  Denzil's  beloved  away  from  him,  and  he 
tells  Valerie  he  loves  her  too  much  to  marry  her,  that  he  would  not  make  her  happy,  that  he  loves  his  work  more  than  any  woman.  Valerie 
cannot  understand  this  altogether,  but  he  forces  her  to  accept  the  fact  that  he  will  not  marry  her;  and  later  in  the  evening  she  accepts  Denzil. 
When  Sinclair  reaches  home,  his  father  is  asleep  in  his  rooms,  having  come  to  beg  for  money  on  the  strength  of  the  fact  that  he  is  the  next  heir 
to  the  baronetcy  of  Abbott's  Wood,  and  Sir  Fulke  Sinclair  is  a  very  old  and  feeble  man.  His  son  settles  two  hundred  pounds  a  year  on  him,  and 
tells  him  that  it  is  only  on  condition  that  the  captain  never  show  his  face  near  his  son  again,  never  write  to  him  or  communicate  with  him.  The 
elder  Sinclair  consents,  borrows  all  the  gold  the  son  has  in  his  pockets  at  the  moment,  and  goes  off  with  a  pitiful  attempt  at  jauntiness,  leaving  the 
young  man  alone.  Valerie,  as  Denzil's  fiancee,  goes  with  the  Mertons  to  Barranmuir,  for  the  shooting.  After  much  persuasion,  Sinclair  comes  for 
a  few  days,  and  is  shocked  to  find  how  thin  and  white  Valerie  has  grown.  Diphtheria  breaks  out  i  i  the  village,  and  Denzil  is  anxious  about  her, 
but  she  laughs  it  off.  Captain  Sinclair  turns  up,  and  demands  more  money  from  his  son,  which  Robert  refuses  to  give.  In  a  rage,  the  captain 
threatens  to  ask  Lord  Merton  for  a  loan. 


CHAPTER  XI.— Continued 

"You  had  better,"  said  his  son  with 
a  short  laugh,  "only  I  warn  j'ou  that 
he  has  no  illusions  concerning  you." 

"There  are  men  staying  here  who 
would  help  me." 

"The  man  from  whom  I  parted  a  few 
moments  before  you  accosted  me,  was 
talking  to  me  of  you.  I  don't  fancy 
that  there  would  be  much  good  asking 
him  !" 

"There  may  be  other  men  in  the 
party.  I  am  staying  at  the  inn  here 
with  two  other  men — we  are  doing  a 
little    bit    of    shooting." 

"You  will  not  be  likely  to  come 
across  any  member  of  our  party.  We 
only  shoot  Merton's  moors  !" 

"I  shall  find  some  means  of  making 

myself  known  to  them  !    I  tell  you  for 

the  last  time  Robert,  that  it  would  be 

better  for  you,  if  you  came  down  from 

that  high  and  mighty  position  of  yours 

and  gave  me  what  I  ask  for  !" 

"That  may  be,  but  I  shall  not  do  it  !" 
no 


"You  will  have  reason  to  regret  it  ! 
I  will  trip  you  up,  sooner  or  later.  I 
will  wound  you  in  your  tenderest  part!" 

"That,  of  course,  is  your  affair," 
said  Robert.  "Whatever  you  may 
threaten,  it  is  all  one  to  me.  I  tell  you, 
and  I  mean  it,  you  will  get  nothing 
more  out  of  me,  than  the  two  hundred 
a  year  which  I  told  you  you  should 
have  !" 

"You  will  live  to  regret  this  !" 

"That  is  my  affair,"  said  the  young 
man. 

"Is  that  your  last  word  ?" 

"My  very  last  !  But  I  warn  you, 
that  it  will  not  be  any  use  appealing 
to  any  friends  of  mine  !" 

"Then  I  swear  to  you,  that  I  will  be 
even  with  you  !  I  have  never  yet  let 
anything  stand  in  the  way  of  my 
revenge  and  I  will  not  now.  Do  you 
hear  ?" 

"I  hear,"  said  Robert  with  a  little 
laugh. 

"Laugh,"  said  his  father  in  a  passion. 


"You  will  not  laugh  for  long."  Robert 
made  no  answer  but  walked  quickh'  to 
the  house.  The  hall  was  full  of  people 
talking  and  drinking  tea.  Valerie  was 
seated  in  her  accustomed  place  near 
the  fire,  holding  her  hands  to  the  blaze. 
They  seemed  more  frail,  more  delicate 
than  they  had  ever  looked.  As  he 
came  in  she  lifted  her  head  and  her 
eyes  sought  his  across  the  crowd  of 
merry  guests.  For  a  moment  it  seemed 
to  him  as  if  they  two  stood  in  the  room, 
alone  ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 


You 


"What  is  the  matter,  Bob  ? 
are  so  odd  lately." 

It  was  Lady  Merton  who  spoke  and 
she  halted  for  a  moment  as  she  was 
passing  from  one  drawing  room  to 
another  to  speak  to  the  young  man, 
who  was  seated  alone  in  an  angle  of  the 
room,  apparently  in  a  brown  study. 

He  gave  a  little  start.  "The  matter  ? 
I  don't  know.     Sit  down  by  me  and 


talk  to  me — I  think  I  want  something 
motherly  !" 

She  laxJghed.  "Do  you  ?"  she  said. 
"You  are  a  strange  boy — there's  Dolly 
Brent  looking  at  you  with  all  her  heart 
in  her  eyes  !  Looking  pretty  enough, 
poor  child,  to  attract  any  man  !" 

"Why  do  you  say,  poor  child  ?" 

"Because  she  is  a  poor  child  !  Do 
you  see  her  ?  Well,  she  has  to  get 
married,  and  that  pretty  soon,  to  make 
room  for  two  other  sisters  who  are 
coming  out — and  she  does  so  want  to 
marrj'  a  man  of  whom  she  can  be  fond  ! 
Not  but  what  she  would  accept  the 
first  man  who  offered  if  he  could  give 
her  money  and  position  !  She  is  no 
heroine — poor  Dolly  !  But  she  is  not 
altogether  of  the  type  who  does  not 
care!" 

"Poor  girl,  indeed,"  said  Sinclair, 
but  he  did  not  make  a  movement 
towards  her. 

"Now  there  again  !  What  a  curiously 
impassive  boy  you  are,"  said  Lady 
Merton.  "Another  man  would  have 
said,  'shall  I  go  over  to  her  and  talk  to 
her  for  half  an  hour,  shall  I  make  her 
happy  with  a  few  nice  speeches  and  a 
kiss?'" 

"I  should  not  care  to  do  that,"  said 
the  young  man  slowly. 

"I  know  you  would  not,  or  else  I 
should  not  have  said  so — I  was  jesting 
— I  don't  believe  you  care  for  anything 
except  singing — and,  they  tell  me, 
shooting  and  all  manner  of  sport." 

"Is  not  that  enough  ?"  said  he. 

"If  it  made  you  happy — but  you  are 
not  happy.  Something  is  wrong  with 
you  this  time,  Robert." 

"How  do  you  know  that  ?" 

"You  would  not  have  sat  here  for 
twenty  minutes  in  a  brown  study  if  you 
had  been.  Your  face  was  not  the  face 
of  a  happy  man  !" 

"I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,"  said  he.  "I 
am  too  idle — I  am  not  used  to  an  idle 
life  !  And  I  want  to  sing  to-night. 
May  I  not  sing  for  you,  dear  lady  ?" 

"May  you  not?"  she  said,  joyfully, 
"may  you  not  ?  But  Robert,  it  would 
be  simply  delightful  if  you  would.  We 
have  been  dying  to  hear  you,  and  I 
knew  you  would  not  mind — only 
Denzil  was  so  insistent  that  you  should 
not  be  asked  !" 

"Dear  old  Denzil,"  said  he. 

Denzil's  mother  impulsively  stretch- 
ed out  her  hand  to  pat  the  coat  sleeve 
of  Denzil's  friend. 

"He  is  so  happy  !  It  is  marvellous 
to  me  to  see  him — and  she — is  she  not 
delightful  ?  So  beautiful,  too — and  so 
sympathetic  !" 

"Yes,"  said  Sinclair  simply,  "she  is 
all  that.  When  may  I  sing  to  your 
ladyship  ?" 

"Now,  at  once.  Go  into  that  room 
and  begin — it  will  not  be  long  before 
every  other  room  is  empty  !" 

"Is  there  any  one  who  can  play  for 
me  ?" 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"Lady  Killoe — she  is  very  musical  1" 

"Then  if  you  will  take  me  to  her,  we 
might  ask  her." 

Lady  Killoe,  tall,  slight,  middle-aged 
and  Irish,  was  delighted.  "You  must 
tell  me  where  I  go  wrong,  Mr.  Sinclair," 
she  said. 

"You  won't  go  wrong,"  smiled  he. 

Denzil  and  Valerie  were  seated  in  the 
conservatory  leading  out  of  the  long 
room  that  was  the  last  of  the  three 
drawing  rooms  composing  the  west 
wing  of  the  house.  It  was  a  room  used 
mostly  for  music  and  for  dancing  and 
had  an  inlaid  floor  of  wood  that  was 
famous  all  over  the  county.  It  was  lit 
by  small  groups  of  shaded  electric 
lights.    It  was  a  room  that  was  not  too 


111 

full    of    furniture    and    therefore    lent 
itself  easily  to  singing. 

Valerie  was  seated  with  Denzil  in  the 
conservatory  which  led  out  of  this 
room.  It  was  a  favourite  place  of 
theirs,  being  private,  but  not  too 
secluded.  At  this  time  of  the  year  it 
was  filled  with  beautiful  chrysanthe- 
mums whose  slightly  acrid  smell  was 
pleasant  to  the  young  girl.  A  little 
fountain  in  the  centre  plashed  prettily 
— Denzil  loved  fountains  ever  since  his 
boyhood — they  reminded  him  of  Rome, 
he  said.  He  had  been  out  shooting  all 
afternoon  and  he  had  missed  his  hour 
with  Valerie — the  diphtheria  was  still 
bad  in  the  village  and  he  was  telling  her 
of  one  or  two  cases.    She  was  listening 


:x-VW 


t^-'HC 


6v>*«  —.cK 


( 


SHI  LOOKED  VERY  WHITE  AND  FRAIL  AS  SHE  PASSED  UP  THE  STAIRCASE, 

OUT  OF  DENIIL'S  VIEW,  AND  ME  WAS  SHAKEN  BY  THE 

SI  DDEN  FEAR  OF  LOKINU  HER 


112 

with  interest  and  asking  him  whether 
he  had  taken  precautions. 

"I  am  all  right,"  he  said.  "But  that 
was  one  of  the  reasons  I  did  not  come 
in  to  see  you  before  dinner.  I  will  take 
..lo  risks  where  you  or  anybody  else  is 
concerned.  No  one  else  goes  into  any 
houses  of  the  village,  so  the  household 
is  safe.  I  have  ordered  that  none  of  the 
household  shall  mix  with  the  village 
people  on  penalty  of  instant  dismissal. 
I  shall'be  almost  glad  when  the  last  of 
our  guests  leave  1" 

"You  want  me  to  go?"  she  asked, 
smiling. 

"I  want  to  know  that  you  are  quite 
safe,"  he  said,  "and  then,  Valerie, 
when  that  time  comes — it  will  be  by  so 
much  nearer  to  our  wedding  day  !" 

"Then  you  are  not  happy  now  ?" 

"Not  happy,"  he  said  and  looked  at 
her.  "Only,  Valerie,  you  must  not 
forget,  that  however  little  of  a  man  I 
may  appear  to  the  outside  world,  I  am 
aman  !  And  I  want  you  to  have  ahd  to 
hold  !" 

"You  are  always  a  man  to  me,"  she 
said.  "Hark,  what  is  that?  Who  is 
going  to  sing  ?" 

There  was  almost  the  sound  of  fear 
in  her  voice,  but  Denzil  for  once  did 
■not  notice  it. 

"I  do  hope  my  mother  has  not  asked 
Bob  to  sing,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  vexa- 
tion. "I  particularly  warned  her  not 
to  do  so.  It  was  all  right  when  we  were 
alone  in  London — he  sang  to  her  and 
to  me — but  here  it  is  different  !" 

"He  is  going  to  sing,"  said  Valerie  in 
a  low  voice. 

"Is  he  ?"  Denzil  was  vexed. 

"Probably  he  wanted  to,"  said  the 
girl — she  spoke  in  a  voice  of  intense 
weariness. 

"Shall  we  go' into  the  music  room  ?" 

"No,  let  us  stay  here,  Denzil — we 
shall  hear  and  we  shall  not  be  seen." 

"Why  are  you  always  so  good  to  me, 
Valerie  ?" 

"Good  ?"  she  laughed  a  bitter  little 
laugh  that  puzzled  him — "hush,  he  is 
beginning  !" 

"In  the  shadow  of  the  conservatory 
he  stole  his  arm  round  her  and  kept  it 
there.  Valerie  made  no  movement  at 
all,  but  turned  her  face  slightly  towards 
the  room.  At  the  first  sound  of 
Sinclair's  voice>  the  music  room  had 
become  full  of  people.  Dolly  Brent  was 
among  the  first  to  come  in.  She  seated 
herself  at  the  entrance  of  the  con- 
servatory and  Valerie  fixed  her  eyes 
on  the  young  girl's  face.  It  was  so 
pretty  !  and  the  girl  herself  was  so 
easily  moved  by  the  tenor's  voice. 
Valerie,  looking  at  her,  knew  that  Dolly 
had  laid  her  impulsive  young  heart  at 
the  handsome  tenor's  feet.  She  had 
guessed  it  before.  Indeed  she  had 
known  from  the  very  first  when  Dolly 
had  asked  her  to  introduce  her  to 
Sinclair,    that    the   girl    had    been    at- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

traded  to  him.  But  now  Valerie  could 
see  by  the  l<K)k  on  the  girl's  face,  that  it 
was  not  attraction  merely — it  was  love  ! 

Song  followed  song.  The  wonderful 
voice  rose  and  fell,  full  of  that  nameless 
charm,  that  only  belongs  to  the  great 
singers  of  the  world.  He  sang  songs  of 
high  daring,  songs  of  good  fellowship 
and  then  at  the  last,  songs  of  love.  And 
as  he  sang,  Valerie  could  see  Dorothy's 
face  grow  more  and  more  womanly,  she 
could  mark  her  quickened  breathing, 
her  heightened  colour.  She  could  see 
the  tenderness  in  the  moist,  blue  eyes. 
And  as  she  looked  a  bitter  jealousy 
seized  Valerie.  This  girl,  this  Dolly, 
was  free  !  Free  to  love,  free  to  let  a 
man  see  her  love  !  Free,  so  that  she 
still  had  a  chance  of  fulfilment  to  her 
love  ! 

Now  and  then  too,  it  seemed  as  if 
Sinclair  were  not  ignorant  of  the  girl's 
rapt  look.  He  turned  to  her  once 
almost    involuntarily. 

"He  is  singing  to  her,  he  is  singing  to 
her  !  How  dare  he  ?  When  he  knows 
I  am  here  ?  Looking  on,  seeing  it  all  ! 
He  has  never  cared  for  me,  never  !  It 
has  been  a  game  to  him  !  If  he  does' 
not  stop,  it  will  kill  me  !"  Valerie 
clenched  her  hands  in  her  lap. 

But  he  did  not  stop — he  sang  on  and 
Dolly's  face  grew  more  and  more 
beautiful.  Denzil  said  at  the  end  of  a 
song,  "It  is  a  marvellous  voice  !  I  have 
never  heard  anything  like  it."  Valerie 
forced  herself  to  say  "Is  it  not  ?" 

"I  am  glad  he  is  singing,"  he  said  the 
next  time.  "I  don't  think  my  happi- 
ness could  be  greater,  Valerie — here, 
with  you  quite  close  to  me  and  that 
wonderful  voice  saying  what  I  could 
never  say — I  don't  care  now  if  my 
mother  did  ask  him  !" 

And  then  the  prelude  of  another 
song  began. 

Lady  Killoe  was  playing  beautifully 
and  she  was  enjoying  herself.  Of  the 
people  who  were  grouped  round  the 
piano,  it  was  not  too  much  to  say  that 
they  were  spell-bound.  The  few  elderly 
people  who  always  do  prefer  a  game  of 
bridge  to  anything  else  in  the  world 
had  opened  the  door  of  the  room  where 
they  were  playing  so  that  they  too 
might  hear  while  the  cards  were  being 
shuffled.  Ill  was  their  way  of  offering 
incense  at  the  shrine  of  art. 

And  then  after  he  had  sung  for  about 
three-quarters  of  an  hour,  Sinclair  bent 
towards  Lady  Killoe  and  thanked  her 
for  playing.  Then  without  deviating, 
he  walked  straight  across  the  room  to 
Dolly  Brent's  side. 

"You  liked  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  loved  it,"  she  answered. 

"There  are  tears  in  your  eyes,"  he 
said  gently. 

"I  know — I  don't  mind.  You  make 
me  feel,  you  know.  I  have  never 
dreamt  of  music  like  that." 

He  laughed.     "Lady    Killoe    plays 


beautifully — she  has  the  artistic  tem- 
perament. One  can  see  it — one  feels 
it?" 

"How  ?"  she  asked,  turning  her 
charming  face  to  his.  "Have  I  the 
artistic   temperament,   Mr.  Sinclair  ?" 

He  laughed  again.  "No,"  he  said, 
"you  have  not.  But  don't  fret  about 
that — you  are  best  without  it.  It  is  a 
privilege  for  which  you  have  to  pay 
rather  highly  !" 

"And  I  have  nothing  to  pay  with," 
she  said  frankly.  "I  am  poor  in  every 
way,  you  know  !" 

"Not  in  eery  way  !" 

The  dimples  which  were  one  of  her 
chief  beauties  made  their  shy  appear- 
ance. Dolly  was  looking  enchantingly 
pretty.  Valerie,  looking  out  of  the 
dark  conservatory  at  the  two  felt  as  if 
she  could  not  bear  this  much  longer. 

"Bob  seems  taken  with  Dolly,"  said 
Denzil  at  her  side  in  an  amused  voice. 

"Yes,  he  seems  to  be."  She  did  not 
know  how  she  forced  herself  to  speak 
easily. 

"He  might  do  worse — although  I 
can  never  imagine  Robert  loving  any 
woman  !" 

"Why  not  ?" 

"I  don't  know — he  is  so  keen  about 
his  singing  and  sport  generally,  there 
does  not  seem  to  be  room  for  women  in 
his  life  !  And  he  could  have  almost  any 
woman  for  his  wife  whom  he  wanted  !" 

"Could  he  ?" 

"Why  of  course — with  his  voice  and 
his  beauty  and  his  manners.  Sanday 
was  telling  me  too  that  he  is  undoubted- 
ly heir  to  Sir  Fulke's  property  in 
Berkshire  !" 

"The  fairy  godmother  must  have 
been  asked  to  his  christening  !" 

"Undoubtedly — and  he  is  a  dear 
fellow  too.  He  has  not  an  atom  of 
self  consciousness  or  pride  about  him  ! 
He  does  not  even  resent  my  giving  you 
all  I  have  to  give  !" 

Robert  was  talking  still  to  Dolly 
Brent.  Valerie  felt  as  if  knives  were 
being  thrust  into  her  heart.  She  rose 
abruptly  from  her  seat. 

"Denzil,"  she  said  speaking  quite 
softly,  "I  think  I  must  say  good-night — 
I'm  horribly  tired  !" 

"Tired,  my  darling  !  and  here  have 
I  been  talking  away  like  a  fool  all  the 
time  about  my  happiness  and  not 
noticing  that  you  were  looking  white  ! 
How  pale  you  arc.  You  are  sure  you 
are  feeling  well  ?" 

"I  have  not  got  diphtheria,  if  that  is 
what  you  are  fearing,"  she  said  with  a 
forced  laugh.    "I'm  just  tired,  Denzil  !" 

"Just  tired — as  if  that  were  not 
enough — come,  I  will  walk  with  you 
to  the  foot  of  the  staircase  !" 

That  meant  across  those  three  long 
rooms — she  would  have  to  pass  Robert 
and  Dolly — how  could  she  do  it  ? 

(To  be  continued) 


Masked  Cavalier 

Continued  from  page  109. 

been  for  the  liveliness  of  the  two  girls. 
Fortunately  Geraldine  had  determina- 
tion enough  to  insist  that  neither  her 
existence  or  her  friend's  should  be 
rendered  monotonous  or  unbearable. 
Altogether  the  years  had  been  very 
pleasant  ones  to  them  both.  They  had 
traveled  a  great  deal,  made  agreeable 
friends,  and  Mr.  Sanderson's  com- 
plaints had  grown  too  much  a  matter 
of  course  for  either  to  be  seriously 
affected  by  them. 

This  winter  in  Rome  had  been  an 
especially  gay  one,  as  Geraldine  had 
now  come  into  full  possession  of  her 
fortune.  There  had  been  parties, 
balls  and  pretty  new  dresses  for  Rose 
as  well  as  herself;  she  managed  to  do 
all  sorts  of  little  things  for  her  friend 
in  that  line  without  exciting  the  father's 
suspicion,  as  he  was  one  of  those  men 
who  could  grant  favors  readily  enough, 
but  was  utterly  incapable  of  accepting 
them. 

The  two  girls  sat  with  Mr.  Sanderson 
while  he  dined,  and  after  they  had 
dressed  for  Mrs.  Thorwald's  dinner 
came  to  show  him  theirpretty  costumes. 
There  was  something  odd  about 
Geraldine  to-night.  Rose  could  not 
help  remarking  it,  and  as  she  con- 
nected it  with  the  flower  and  the 
masked  cavalier,  she  was  somewhat 
displeased,  and  would  ask  no  questions. 
Rose  had  always  held  fast,  during  these 
years  of  silence  in  which  Charley's 
name  had  been  a  forbidden  subject, 
that  he  would  sometime  reappear;  and 
in  her  mind  she  had  reserved  her 
friend  for  him.  And  now  this  fellow, 
who  had  haunted  Geraldine's  steps 
during  the  past  week,  had  power  to 
bring  such  light  into  Geraldine's  eyes, 
and  to  make  her  so  excitable  and 
nervous. 

When  they  reached  home,  Geraldine, 
instead  of  lingering  as  usual,  went  off 
directly  to  her  own  room.  So  Rose 
went  to  bed  to  rid  herself  of  her  dis- 
agreeable fancies.  How  long  she  had 
slept  she  did  not  know.  It  seemed  to 
be  nearly  morning,  when  some  sudden 
sound  roused  her.  She  sat  up  and 
listened.  It  came  again.  Her  first 
thought  was  that  robbers  were  trying 
the  window;  she  sprang  out  of  bed  and 
ran  to  Geraldine's  room.  It  was 
fastened  on  the  inside — the  first  time 
such  a  thing  had  ever  happened. 
Beyond  that  was  a  door  which  opened 
into  Cieraldine's  maid's  room.  The 
room  was  empty.  She  ran  across  it 
into  Geraldine's  apartment — that  was 
empty  tfx).  She  Itwked  about  and 
noticed  that  the  noise  had  been  caused 
by  the  slamming  of  a  shutter  that  had 
been  left  o[K;n.  It  never  occurre<l  to 
her  to  waken  her  father,  as  she  had  no 
thought   of    betraying    Geraldine.    but 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Safeiy 
First" 


113 


:j^' 


»r^ 


;v 


vJ''* 


SOME  men,  sometimes,  can  board  the  flying  street  car  or  "  mon- 
key with  the  buzz-saw "  in  a  mill  or  factory,  and  get  away 

with  it.     But  that's  how  accidents  happen. [Some  men, 

sometimes,  can  shave  with  an  open  blade  razor  and  avoid  cutting 
themselves.     But  thousands  agree  that  the  chances  are  against  it. 

The  Gillette  Safety  Razor 


was  the  practical  forerunner  of  to-day's 
"Safety  First"  movement.  What  engi- 
neers are  doing  now  to  safeguard  tools 
and  transportation.  King  C.  Gillette 
did  ten  years  ago  for  that  much  used 
tool,  the  razor.  And  while  he  made 
the  razor  safe,  he  also  made  it  keener. 


harder  and  handier  than  the  old  open 
blade. 

That  thin,  electrically  tempered  blade, 
gripped  rigid  in  the  adjustable  holder, 
gives  the  cleanest,  smoothest  and  quick- 
est, as  well  as  the  safest  shave  man  has 
ever  enjoyed. 


Sundud  Sets  cost  $3.00— Pocket  Editions  $5-00  to  $6.00 — Combination  Sets  $6.90  up. 
At  Hardware  Dealers',  Dniggists'  and  Jewelers*. 

GILLETTE  SAFETY  RAZOR  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LIMITED 

Office  and  Factory:  The  New  GiUette  Building,  MONTREAL 


1 


Agents  Wanted 

We  have  an  exceptionally  attractive 
proposition  to  offer  enterprising  men  kII- 
mg  Cadillac  Vacuum  Cleaners.     Addren 

CLEMENTS  MFG.  CO. 

78  Bucheas  Si.  TORONTO 


More  Sonnet*  of  an  Office  Boy 

B;  S.  S.  Kisn.  Pries  TS  CraU. 

Vanderhoof-Gunn  Co.,  Limited, 
TORONTO,  ONT. 


114 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A  25  c  Size 


Quaker  Oats  is'^put  up  in  both  the  large  26-cent  package  and  the 
10-cent  size.  The  25-cent  size  saves  buying  so  often — saves  running 
out.     Try  it — see  how  long  it  lasts. 


The  very  aroma  of  Quaker  Oats 
tells  its  exquisite  flavor.  You  know 
before  you  taste  it  that  there's 
choiceness  in  this  dish. 

Only  the  big  grains  yield  that 
aroma.  And,  without  the  Quaker 
process,  it  could  never  be  kept  in  tact. 


That's  why  Quaker  Oats  is  dis- 
tinctive. 

Weget  that  flavor  and  we  preserve 
it.  We  discard  all  the  grains  which 
lack  it,  so  the  flavor  isneverdiluted. 
If  you  enjoy  it,  you  can  always 
get  it  by  simply  saying  "Quaker." 
And  without  any  extra  price. 


Rolled  from  the  Largest  Grams 


We  get  but  ten  pounds  of  Quaker  Oats 
from  a  bushel,  because  of  tfiis  selection. 
But  those  are  the  luscious  flakes.  The 
others  are  good  enough  for  horses,  but 
not  for  boys  and  girls. 


We  started  to  do  that  25  years  ago, 
and  the  fame  of  this  flavor  spread.  Now 
a  hundred  nations  send  here  to  get  Quaker 
Oats.  And  millions  of  children  of  every 
clime  enjoy  it  every  morning. 


Quaker  Oats,  as  an  energy  food,  excels 
anything  else  you  Jcnow.  It  is  known  as 
"  the  food  of  foods." 

But,  without  that  taste  which  makes 
it  inviting,  few  children  would  eat  half 
enough. 


Serve  Quaker  Oats  in  large  dishes. 
Small  servings  are  not  sufficient  to  show 
in  full  its  vim -producing  power. 


lOc  and  25c  per  Package 


Except  in  Far  West. 


The  Quaker  Q^ls  Ompany 


this  midnight  disappearance  was  so 
out  of  keeping  with  the  girl  she  had 
known  so  long. 

"If  I'd  done  such  a  thing  it  wouldn't 
be  so  queer,  I'm  such  a  crazy 
goose,"  she  sobbed,  "but  for  Geraldine 
— heavens,  what  does  it  mean  ?" 

She  looked  about  the  room  again. 
There  was  an  unfamiliar  basket  in  one 
corner.  She  threw  up  the  lid,  and 
instantly  knew  where  Geraldine  had 
gone — to  the  masked  ball  at  the 
Apollo  Theatre  !  The  basket  still  held 
a  mask  and  a  portion  of  a  domino. 
Rose  was  more  puzzled  than  ever.  A 
friend  had  offered  to  take  them  to  the 
theatre  to  see  the  masquerade  from  a 
box,  and  Geraldine  had  been  the  first 
to  refuse.  A  masquerade  where  there 
was  no  dancing  would  be  only  a  bore, 
she  had  declared.  But  she  was  gone, 
and  the  rose  had  something  to  do 
with  it. 

Mr.  Sanderson,  unable  to  sleep,  got 
up,  put  on  his  dressing-gown  and 
hobbled  into  the  den  to  smoke.  The 
vicious-voiced  little  clock  on  the  mantel 
was  striking  two  when  he  was  starteld 
by  hearing  a  key  turn  in  the  door.  He 
crossed  the  room  painfully,  opened  the 
door  and  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  two  figures  the  foremost,  to  his 
unbounded  astonishment,  being  his 
ward  ! 

"Geraldine  !"  he  spluttered  in  his 
wrath,  "what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?" 

The  other  muffled  figure  darted  off 
down  the  corridor.  It  was  Miss  Gray's 
maid,  shrouded  like  Geraldine  in  a  long 
black  wrap.  Marianne  was  so  rigid 
and  angular,  so  full  of  British  prejudices 
and  propriety,  that  it  seemed  impos- 
sible that  she  had  been  guilty  of  such 
a  freak  escapade. 

Geraldine  looked  pale,  a  little  tired» 
too;  but  there  was  no  sign  of  fright  or 
confusion.  If  it  had  been  noon-day  she 
could  not  have  been  more  composed. 

"Geraldine  !"  he  repeated,  feeling 
himself  grow  stupid  from  surprise. 

"You  will  catch  cold  standing  on  that 
stone  floor,"  she  said  quietly.  "I  am 
sorry  we  disturbed  you;  the  door 
would  not  open,  and  Marianne  made  a 
great  racket." 

"Where  have  you  been  ?"  he  de- 
manded. "But  I  don't  need  to  ask,"" 
pointing  to  her  costume.  "Geraldine, 
who  went  to  the  masked  ball  with 
you  ?" 

"Only  Marianne,"  she  replied;  "but 
we  were  as  safe  as  if  we  had  been  at 
home — nobody  recognized  us.  And  I 
couldn't  have  been  more  properly 
chaperoned  than  with  dear  old  precise 
Marianne." 

"I  wonder  you  could  have  persuaded 
her  to  go,"  he  replied,  puzzled  by  her 
composure.     "I — I  am  shocked." 

"  Please  don't  let's  say  any  more 
about  it  to-night.  Marianne  and  I  were 
not  alone — we  had  ample  protection.    I 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


115 


am  very  tired,  and  I  want  to  sleep." 

"Is  that  all  you  mean  to  say  ?"  he 
asked,  aghast. 

"I  want  you  to  wait  until  morning 
for  explanations,"  she  said  with  a 
finality  in  her  tone  that  staggered  him. 

"You  refuse  to  explain,"  he  gasped. 

"Just  for  to-night,  please,"  coaxed 
Geraldine.  She  made  the  Lest  of  her 
adxantage  and  kissed  him  goodnight. 

She  went  in  to  her  maid's  room  first, 
and  Marianne  point  d  to  the  otlier 
room  in  silence.  There  was  Rose  all 
huddled  up  in  a  Morris  chair,  asleep. 

"Heavens  !  Rose,  what  are  you 
doing  asleep  at  this  hour  in  my  room  ?" 
she  said. 

"Oh,  Jerry  !  where  have  you  been  ? 
Why  it's  morning,  and  I've  been 
scared  out  of  my  senses." 

"It's  only  half  past  two,  and  we  are 
often  out  later  than  this,"  said  Geral- 
dine calmly. 

Rose  rubbed  her^eyes,  stared  at  her 
friend  and  exclaimed,  "You've  been 
at  the  masked  ball  at  the  Apollo  1" 

"Exactly  where  I  was,"  returned 
Geraldine. 

"Geraldine,  you  are  crazy  !" 

"Opinions  differ.  To  me  it  seems 
much  more  like  a  symptom  of  insanity 
for  a  young  woman  to  go  to  sleep  in  a 
chair  instead  of  getting  into  bed," 
Geraldine  said  in  her  most  unruffled 
manner. 

"I  was  in  bed,"  said  Rose.  "But  I 
heard  a  noise  and  I  came  in  here 
frightened,  and  you  were  gone.  I 
think  it  was  a  horrid  way  to  treat  me." 

"Rose,  honey,  do  be  reasonable  ! 
How  could  I  possibly  know  that  you 
would  get  a  fright  and  rush  into  my 
room,  this  night  of  all  others  ?" 

"I  couldn't  get  in,"  said  Rose. 

"Horrors !  Then  I  suppose  it's 
your  spirit  I'm  talking  to." 

"Jerry,  you're  a  cat,"  cried  Rose  in 
one  of  her  little  bursts  of  temper.  "I 
knew  when  you  took  that  flower  to-day 
there  was  something  doing.  I  hate  that 
horrid  Italian;  and  he'll  be  sure  to  tell 
of  your  going  there  to  meet  him.  Yes, 
and  then  Mrs.  Thorwald  and  her  set 
will  talk,  and  talk  and  talk  !" 

"I  don't  think  the  Italian  will  tell," 
returned  Geraldine  with  a  mischievous 
smile. 

"I  don't  see'how  you  can  like  him 
anyway,"  Rose  said  miserably. 

"I  don't."  Geraldine  was  entirely 
unabashed. 

"After  taking  that  rose — after  going 
to  the  ball.  Good  gracious,  what 
would  pajja  say  if  he  should  find 
out  .'' 

"He  knows  already,"  said  Geraldine 
calmly.  "He  opened  the  door  for  us, 
becau.se  Marianne  made  such  a  racket, 
and  turncnl  into  a  statue  of  horror  at 
the  sight." 

"Goo<lness!"  breathed  Rose.  "What 
on  earth  did  you  say  ?" 


All    the    Sunshine 

of 
Summer 


may  be  found  in  this  delicious,  wholesome,  nourishing 
combination— the  choicest  product  of  Northern  fields 
and  the  most  luscious  fruit  of  the  American  garden— 

Shredded   Wheat 

and  Strawberries 

an  ideal  dish  for  the  warm  days  when  the  body  craves  relief 
from  heavy  foodij.  All  the  body-building  elements  in  the  whole 
wheat  grain,  steam-cooked,  shredded  and  baked  in  crisp,  golden- 
brown  "little  loaves."  The  only  cereal  breakfast  food  that 
combines  naturally  and  deliciously  with  fruits,  fresh  or  pre- 
served. An  easy  solution  of  "the  servant  problem"  as  well  as 
the  problem  of  "the  high  cost  of  living." 

Heat  one  or  more  Biscuit*  in  the  oven  to  restore  crii pness  ;  then 
cover  with  berries  or  other  fresh  fruit ;  serve  with  milk  or  cream 
and  sweeten  to  suit  the  taste.  Better  than  soggy,  white  flour 
short-cake  ;  contains  no  yeast,  no  baking  powder,  no  fats  and  no 
chemicals  of  any  kind  just  the  meat  of  the  golden  wheat,  steam- 
cooked,  shredded  and  baked. 

"It's  All  in  the  Shreds" 


The  Canadian  Shredded  Wheat  Co.  Ltd.,  Niagara  Fails,  Ont. 


Toronto  Office  : 
49  WeUington  St.,  East. 


"Nothing.  I  took  him  into  the  den 
and  advised  him  to  sit  down." 

"And  he  didn't  insist  on  know- 
ing ?" 

"Yes,  as  a  mattet  of  fact,  I  think  he 
did,"  responded  Geraldine,  turning  to 
the  mirror  and  l^cginning  to  take  down 
her  hair.  "But  insisting  doe.sn't  always 
imply  that  you  find  out." 

Rose  scrambled  out  of  the  Morris 
chair  indignantly,  and  stood  up,  her 
curly    hair    tumbled    all    about    her 


piquant  little  face.  She  looked  like  a 
small  but  defiant  kitten. 

"Geraldine  Gray  !  I'm  astonished 
at  you  !"  she  burst  out.  "If  you  won't 
tell  me  who  was  with  you  to-night,  I'll 
never  speak  to  you  again." 

"Why,  pussy  !"  said  Geraldine, 
turning  about  with  amused  surprise. 
"Did  you  think  I'd  been  a  naughty 
girl  with  an  affaire  de  coeur  ?  Stop 
looking  like  the  muse  of  tragedy,  and 
I'll  tell  you." 


116 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


JtlBECTIONSJ-^ 


THIS  ^  , 

.BAKINS  POWDER  Vs 
.ISCOMPgStDOFTMEV 
FOIIOWING  INgREDI 
ENrSANDNONCOIMUI. 
.PHOSf H«E  Bl  CARg-  /J 
'ipNATEOf  JOMAKO 
STARCH. 


IWTANY  BRANDS  OF  BAKING 
'"■'  POWDER  CONTAIN  ALUM  WHICH 
IS  AN  INJURIOUS  ACID.  THE  IN- 
GREDIENTS OF  ALUM  BAKING 
POWDER  ARE  SELDOM  PRINTED 
ON  THE  LABEL.  IF  THEY  ARE,  THE 
ALUM  IS  USUALLY  REFERRED  TO 
AS  SULPHATE  OF  ALUMINA  OR 
SODIC     ALUMINIC     SULPHATE. 


POWDER 

ALUM 


Hagic 

BAKING 
POWDB 


CANADA 
AND  WH 
PLAINLY 


MAGIC    BAKING 

CONTAINS     NO 

THE  ONLY  WELL-KNOWN  MEDIUM- 
PRICED  BAKING  POWDER  MADE  IN 
THAT  DOES  NOT  CONTAIN  ALUM. 
ICH  HAS  ALL  ITS  INGREDIENTS 
STATED     ON      THE     LABEL. 


E.   W.   GILLETT    COMPANY    LIMITED 

WINNIPEG  TORONTO,    ONT.        MONTREAL. 


'T'HE  pure,  aluminum  wrapper  enclosing  Dickeson's  Tea  protects 

the  delicate  leaves  from  damp  and  dust,  and  also  preserves 

the  richness  and  rare  goodness  of  this  exquisite  tea   unimpaired. 

Ask  your  Grocer,  The  original  aluminum  package. 

DICKESON'S  TEA  is  the  BEST  TEA 


Agents  i  W.  LLOYD  LOCK  &  CO.,  Winnipeg. 


7)0  you  know  what  this 
emblem  standi  for? 


IT  means,  bigger,  better,  cleaner  business.      It  is  tbe  inspiring  insignia  of  140  clubs,  with   a  membership 
of  over  10,000  earnest  men.      Learn  what  the  Associated  Advertising  Clubs  of  America  are  doing  for 
honesty  in  business,  for  more  systematic,  scientific  and  successful  methods  uf  distribution,  advertising 
and  salesmanship.      Attend  the  Tenth  Annual  Convention  of  the  A.  A.  C.  of  A. 

TORONTO  J"NEe?^i25 

Interesting  Program  E<iward  Mott  Woolley 


The  program  for  thie  great  convention  is  comprehen- 
(  iveand  diversified,  covering  every  phase  of  modern 
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able,  successful  men;  open  meetings,  (devoted  to  a 
wide  range  of  special  Atopics ,  will  give  everybody  a 
chance  to  ask  questions  and  hear  his  own  problems 
discussed  by  the  men  who  have  met  and  solved  them. 


the  famous  writer  on  business  topics,  has  made  a  study 
of  the  A.  A.  C.  of  A.  and  their  work,  as  well  as  of  the 
plans  for  the  Toronto  Convention.  He  has  embodied 
the  result  in  a  little  book  "The  Story  of  Toronto." 
This  book  paints  a  graphic,  inspiring  picture  of  what 
this  great  movement  signifies. 


It  will  be  sent  free  to  all  business  men  asking  for  it  on  their   business  stationery — 
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Associated  Advertising  Clubs  of  America 

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"Well  ?"  said  Rose,  unmollified. 

But  Geraldine  did  not  speak. 
Instead  she  crossed  the  room,  shut  the 
door  snugly,  and  whispered  something 
very  seriously  into  Rose's  little  ear. 
The  girl  shrank  away  from  her  with  a 
cry. 

"Geraldine  !     You  don't  mean  it  ?" 

"Hush  !"  said  the  older  girl.  "You'll 
wake  your  father.  It's  quite  true — he 
was  the  cavalier,  and  he  will  be  here 
in  the  morning.  Now  we  must  both 
go  to  bed  at  once  and  sleep.  W'e  will 
have  a  hard  day  to-morrow." 

She  spoke  with  gentle  authority, 
and  Rose,  dazed  and  astonished, 
obeyed  her.  Silence  shut  down  upon 
the  old  house,  but  Geraldine  lay  awake, 
thinking. 

Mr.  Sanderson  slept  late  next  morn- 
ing, and  when  Rose  came  in  he  set 
down  his  coffee-cup  and  looked  impres- 
sive. 

"Send  Geraldine  to  me  at  once,"  he 
said,  without  the  formality  of  a  "Good 
morning." 

"Geraldine  ?  Certainly,  father," 
agreed  Rose  sweetly. 

"He's  cross  as  a  bear,"  she  confided 
to  Geraldine.    "Be  careful,  won't  you?" 

Geraldine  was  her  usual  charming 
self,  as  she  entered  the  den  where  Mr. 
Sanderson  was  frowning  over  the 
morning  paper. 

"Did  you  sleep^well  ?"  she  said 
serenely.  "And  are  you  in  the  best 
possible  humour  ?" 

"At  least  I  am  ready  to  hear  what 
explanation  you  may  have  of  last 
night's  occurrence,"  stated  Mr.  Sander- 
son solemnly. 

"Then  you  must  promise  not  to 
interrupt  me,"  she  said,  her  own  face 
taking  on  a  look  of  gravity,  "for  I  shall 
have  to  speak  of  matters  you  have 
forbidden  anyone  to  mention  in  your 
presence." 

"I  fail  to  see — "  began  Mr.  Sander- 
son, and  then  stopped.  "If  these 
matters  are  absolutely  necessary  to 
explain  your  escapade,  go  on." 

"They  are,"  she  corroborated  him. 
"I  must  go  back  some  years,  to  the 
time  before  I  came  to  live  with  you. 
Shortly  before  Aunt  Margaret  died,  I 
met  a  young  man  who  was  foolish 
enough  to  love  me  better  than  I 
deserved.  I  was  very  young  and 
romantic  then;  and  though  I  cared  for 
him  a  great  deal,  I  teased  and  bothered 
him,  without  realizing  how  serious  a 
matter  it  was  to  him.  I  flirted  with 
another  man — a  naval  officer — for  a 
week  or  two,  because  we  had  had  some 
trifling  quarrel  and  I  had  some  idea 
of  punishing  him." 

She  broke  off,  and  looked  up  at  him, 
two  crimson  spots  burning  in  her 
cheeks.  He  regarded  her  sternly,  but 
evidently  without  any  idea  of  what  she 
was  leading  up  to.  She  went  on. 
Continued  on  page  124. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


117 


^ 


iXi 


^ 


X 


^ 


Waltham 
Watches 


The  purchase  of  a  watch  in- 
volves more  than  selecting  the 
one  that  merely  looks  the  best. 

Waltham  Watches  are  su- 
premely beautiful,  but  the  real 
basis  of  their  world-wide  fame  is 
the  perfection  of  their  inward 
structure.  It  is  this  which  makes 
them  unequaled  for  right  time- 
keeping. The  name  Waltham 
on  a  watch  protects  you  from  inferiority 
in  those  things  which  you  cannot  see. 


There  are  Walthams  for  as  low  a  price  as  will  buy  a  good  watch,  and 
up  to  as  high  a  price  as  any  one  should  pay.     Visit  your  jeweler. 


H<2 


Waltham  Watch   Company 

Canada  Life  Bldg.,  St.  James  Street,  Montreal 


i><5 


>>□ 


PIrue  mention  Canada  Mokthlt  whenJyoiCwrite  toladvcrtitert. 


118 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


For  that 

late 

Supper 


Just  a  light,  nourishing 
snack    before    retiring— try 

^logersotK 

Easily  digested— pure  and 
wholesome.  The  delicious 
flavor  of  Ingersoll  Cream 
Cheese  is  most  enjoyable. 
Send  for  little  Ingersoll  Re- 
cipe folder  telling  how  to 
make  dainty  dishes  for 
everyday. 

"Spreads  like   Butter" 


Sold   by  all  Grocers  in 
15c  and  25c  packages. 


The  Ingersoll 


^-  ^vtr\ 


BEAUTIFUL    LINENS 

at  little  cost. 
How  strongly 
that  statement 
must  appeal  to 
every  house- 
wife ! 

Dainty  centre' 
\  pieces  and  a 
hundred  '  and- 
one  other  things 
to  add  beauty  to 
your  home  are 
made  possible 
through  our 
scalloping. 

Scallopin^j  is  suitable  for  so  many  purposes 
that  every  womin  will  be  gUd  to  know 
that  we  ai-e  able  to  dj  it,  as  well  as 
embroidering  and  initialing,  cheaply  and 
quickly.  In  addition,  we  do  pleating  and 
hemstitching    and   make  covered   buttons. 

For  prices  and  booklet,  write 

TORONTO      PLEATING      COMPANY 
Dep;     G      TORONTO,  ONT.  2 


This  department  is  under  the  direction  of  "Kit  "  who  under  this  familiar  pen 
name  has  endeared  herself  to  Canadian  women  from  Belle  Isle  to  Victoria.  Every 
month  she  will  contribute  sparkling  bits  of  gossip,  news  and  sidelights  on  life  as 
seen  through  a  woman's  eyes. 


THE  MONTH  OF  ROSES 
T  ET  us  worship  for  a  moment  at  the 
^-^  shrine  of  the  rose — the  emblem  of 
old  England.  It  was  bold  of  her  to 
capture  the  queen  of  flowers — yet  it  is 
not  the  rose  as  we  know  her  in  our  hot- 
houses that  is  England's  emblem,  but 
the  wild  rose  that  clambers  up  the 
houses  in  those  quaint  and  beautiful 
villages  that  lie  dotted  over  the  whole 
country.  It  is  a  little  rose  with  five 
delicate  petals  of  pale  or  deep  pink — 
the  Tudor  rose. 

English  history  is  perfumed  with 
the  rose.  The  rose-noble  was  a  coin 
worth  six  and  eightpence — the  exact 
price  of  a  lawyer's  letter  to-day.  When 
York  and  Lancaster  fought  it  was  with 
roses — and  other  things.  Harpocrates, 
the  god  of  silence — whom  women 
despise — was  bribed  by  Cupid  with  a 
rose  not  to  reveal  the  amours  of  Venus. 
And  Cupid  is  busy  with  roses  to-day. 
Artful  little  dodger,  he  even  puts  it 
into  the  heads  of  old  husbands  to  give 
roses  to  their  old  wives  when  wedding 
anniversaries  come  round.  By  the 
way  the  idea  that  Cupid  is  the  son  of 
Venus  we  always  considered  a  libel  on 
that  young  imp,  holding  rather  with 
Hesiod,  the  ancient  theogonist,  who 
says  that  Cupid  was  produced  at  the 
same  time  as  Chaos  and  the  Earth, 
Of  course  he  was.  How  could  we  have 
ever  got  alon^  without  him,  and  is  not 
Love  eternal — without  beginning  and 
without  end  ?  In  any  case  he  is  the 
dearest  Boy  in  the  world,  and  the 
universal  Honey  Boy. 

THE  GOLDEN  ROSE 

'T'O  return  to  our  roses.  Like  the 
^  Roman  banquet  halls  of  imperial 
time  when  showers  of  roses  fell  at 
intervals  upon  the  guests,  we  remember 
one  glorious  night  at  Covent  Garden 
in  the  year  of  the  second  jubilee  of 


Queen  Victoria,  when  in  the  silence  one 
could  almost  hear  the  soft  thud  of  a 
falling  rose  from  the  great  garlands 
that  wreathed  the  boxes,  Roses, 
roses  !  Everywhere  England's  flower  ! 
Literally,  from  floor  to  box-top  nothing 
but  wreaths  and  bowers  of  roses  whence 
shone  out  the  fairest  faces  in  the  world, 
where  glimmered  all  that  there  is  of 
costly  gems,  diadems,  gorgeous  uni- 
forms. An  openwork  curtain  of  roses 
woven  with  delicate  greenery  hid  the 
front  of  all  the  circles,  and  drooped 
above  the  boxes,  making  a  fair>'-like 
frame  for  the  royal  women.  The 
dying  flowers  dropped  their  petals  into 
the  laps  of  women  sitting  in  orchestra 
chairs.  It  was  a  night  spent  in  some 
enchanted  fairyland  where  all  was  laugh- 
ter and  happiness,  love — and  a  dream 
of  fair  women.  It  was  difficult  in  this 
rose-world  to  believe  that  outside 
Want  and  Squalor  pressed  their  lean 
and  ill-favoured  faces  almost  against 
the  walls  of  the  great  theatre,  watch- 
ing— silent,  eager,  sullen — for  the  out 
pouring  of  a  procession  where  walked 
Beauty,  Youth,  Happiness  and  Wealth. 
And  yet,  not  far  away,  the  ghastly  Em- 
bankment was  gathering  its  sordid 
company  of  lodgers  for  the  night. 

The  golden  rose  arose  in  the  Twelfth 
Century.  It  was  a  jewel  which  each 
year  on  the  fourth  Sunday  in  Lent  was 
solemnly  blessed  by  the  Pope,  who 
presented  it  in  turn  to  all  the  Roman 
Catholic  sovereigns  of  Europe,  The 
Queen  of  Spain  has  one — also  Alfonzo's 
mother.  It  is  a  very  beautiful  floral 
jewel  and  more  than  once  it  has  carried 
a  silent  but  no  less  potent  political 
message.  As  compared  with  the  olden 
time  there  are  very  few  to  whom  such 
an  emblem  can  be  presented  to-day. 
Once  or  twice  the  gift  has  been  made  to 
some  lady  in  recognition  of  extra- 
ordinary piety  or  meritorious  action. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


119 


But  the  custom  as  the  occasion  for  ic 
— is   fading   after    the    manner   of   all 


roses. 


A  GRAVE  TALE 


KJOT  long  since  we  had  a  conversa- 
•'■  tion  with  a  woman  who  had 
received  grave  news  in  a  doctor's  office. 
This  is  what  she  said : — 

"Although  I  had  long  familiarized 
myself  with  death,  meditated  upon  it, 
noted  the  passing  years  and  computed 
— within  reason — the  years  that  might 
remain;  the  absolute  fact  that  Death 
was  nearer  to  me  than  1  had  anticipated 
gave  me  a  shock.  That  is,  a  shock  of  a 
sort,  as  though  one  had  come  up  noise- 
lessly behind  and  had  tapped  me  on 
the  shoulder  suddenly,  and  that  as  I 
turned  1  met  with  something  grim  and 
inexorable.  I  remember  smiling  stiffly 
as  I  left  the  office,  though  the  tears 
were  very  near.  The  first  sensation  I 
lelt  was  one  of  immense  self-pity- — the 
rext  a  sense  of  aloofness  from  all  others 
"f  my  kind — a  dreadful  loneliness.  I 
■member  that  Moore'  'inc.-  about  the 
'  -Iricken  deer"  crime  into  my  mind, 
aikl  also  a  story  I  had  heard  in  child- 
hood of  how  when  the  gamekeeper 
\v:>'ked  through  the  deer-park,  and 
marked- — in  his  mind  only,  remember 
— one  of  the  herd  to  be  killed— the 
ifsi    silently    withdrew    and    left    the 

rii.kcn  one  ah^ne.  My  next  sensation 
wa  the  curious  one  that  all  respon- 
sibilities had  dropped  from  me.  A 
feeling  of  infinite  and  sad  detachment 
from    every ihiuf;    possessed   me. 

"Of  what  u.se  to  begin  anything,  to 
go  on  with  anything,  to  plan  anything  ? 
There  were  only  a  tew  days,  weeks, 
months — perhaps  a  year  or  two,  left — 
why  should  I  not  play  these  away 
doing  anything  I  liked  or — nothing  ? 
Was  I  not  now  and  henceforth  a 
privileged  person  ?  Then  came  a  sort 
of  hurry,  as  of  one  going  upon  a  long 
and  im]K)rtant  journey.  So  many  loose 
ends  to  be  caught  up.  So  many — so 
few  rather — little  jewels  and  trinkets 
to  be  divided  as  keepsakes.  I  even 
began  to  take  an  interest  in  grave- 
stones and  cemeteries.  I  owned  no 
spot  of  earth  in  which  to  lay  my  body. 
Would  it  not  be  wise  to  put  any  spare 
money  into  an  estate  in  the  cemetery  ? 

"All  this  without  too  much  sadness, 
only  that  feeling  of  immense  self-pity. 
( 'ame  more  gruesome  thoughts.  Some- 
where, in  some  shop  in  the  city,  my 
(  offin  was  lying  among  many  on  one  of 
those  secret  shelves  in  undertaker's 
places  that  are  discreetly  hidden  lest 
the  sight  of  them  would  cause  our 
delicate  sensibilities  to  suffer.  Then, 
who  would  I  have  for  pall-bearers  ? 
One  I  knew  of.  How  well  he  would 
look  in  his  immaculate  linen  and  tall 
hat — how  much  would  he  care  ?  What 
'  >rt  of  a  funeral  would  I  have  ?  Would 
anyone  outside  the  few  relatives  and 
fewer  friends  come  ?    Would  they  send 


t^^^.^ 


In  Spotless  Town  this  teacher  rules 
The  new  Doirestic  Science  Schools, 
A  little  loaf  is  good,"  she  said. 
'It  helps  to  make  us  better  bred." 
We  soften  crusty  natures  so 
By  polishing:  with 


TRY  this  on  your  dirtiest, 
greasiest  pan : 

Rub  just  the  amount  of 
Sapolio  you  need  on  a  damp 
cloth.  Scour  the  black  sur- 
face of  the  pan. 

Sapolio  quickly  drive^he 
^ease  and  grime) 

Sapolio  keeps  your  hands 
soft  and  works  without  waste. 


FREE  SURPRISE  FOR  CHILDREN 

DEAR    CHILDREN: 

We  have  a  surprise  for  you 
a  toy  spotless  town- just  like  the 
real  one.  only  smaller.  it  is  8 'a 
inches  long.    the  nine  c9)  cunning 

PEOPLE  OF  SPOTLESS  TOWN.  IN  COLORS, 
ARE  READY  TO  CUT  OUT  AND  STAND  UP. 
SENT    FREE   ON    REQUEST. 

Enoch  Morgan's  Sons  Company,    Sole  Manufacturers,     New  York  City 


flowers  ?  Why  did  they  not  give  them 
to  me  to-day,  now,  in  my  living  hands 
where  I  could  look  at  them  with  my 
living  eyes  and  love  them  with  my 
living  heart  ?  What  would  the  clergy- 
man say  ? — the  ohl  beautiful  lesson — 
the  old  beautiful  prayer: 

"  T  am  the  resurrection  and  the 
Life' — and  then  the  last  journey,  and 
then  the  first  night  out  under  the  stars 
— the  awful,  awful  loneliness.  The 
house  I  used  to  call  home  barred  and 
locked  against  me — those  whom  I 
loved  and  who  had  loved  me,  lost  at 


last  in  sleep  and  dreams.  I  thought  of 
the  woman  in  Olive  Schreiner's 
'African  Farm'  who  went  out  the  night 
her  baby  was  buried  and  spread  a 
waterproof  over  the  little,  little  grave, 
to  keep  off  her  baby  the  rain  that  swept 
down  in  the  d.-irk, 

"And  then  came 
human  rain  of  tears, 
world  seemed  more 
earth  was  singing  her  spring  love-song. 
The  birds  were  mating,  the  young 
grass  was  just  peeping  up — the  trees 
were  thick  with  fat  brown  buds.    The 


the    rain^ — that 

Never  had  the 

beautiful.     The 


120 


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CANADA  MONTHLY 

sun  streamed  upon  the  world,  warming 
it.  To  leave  it  all  for  the  cold,  the 
dark  !  The  very  soul  shuddered  at  the 
thought  of  that  unknown  land  beyond 
the  curtain.  Doubts  assailed  me.  Was 
there  any  place  ?  anything  ?  Faith 
was  for  the  moment  annihilated. 
What  if  there  was  nothing — nobody,  or 
— some  place  worse  than  this  ?  For  a 
while  chaos  reigned. 

"Then  the  storm  swept  away,  leaving 
everything  clear,  beautiful,  fine. 
Courage  came  back,  a  courage  made 
strong  by  the  fires  of  suffering.  The 
broken  threads  were  joined,  the  web  of 
life  began  again  to  form  under  the 
hands  of  the  worker.  All  the  self- 
pity,  all  the  morbid  thoughts,  all  the 
curious  idle  feeling — all  these  passed 
away,  and  the  day's  work  took  their 
places.  Faith  shone  forth  again  clear 
as  the  rainbow  after  the  shower.  I 
cannot  express  to  you  the  buoyant, 
hopeful  feeling,  the  fresh  energy  for 
work,  the  still  sort  of  happiness  that 
pervaded  all  my  soul.  I  felt  like  a 
soldier  girding  up  for  the  final  fight — 
brave,  strong,  sane,  full  of  force,  of 
will.  And  though  often,  I  find  myself 
making  up  epitaphs,  like  young  John 
Chivery  in  Little  Dorrit,  it  is  always 
with  a  happy  sense  of  humour — that 
saving  quality  which  is  the  salt  and 
the  soul  of  life." 

This  is  what  the  woman  told  and  the 
way  she  told  it.  The  Pedlar  stooped, 
and  gathering  up  the  tale,  folded  it 
tenderly  in  the  silken  web  of  imagina- 
tion, and  laid  it  in  his  Pack. 

ORIGINAL  SIN 

]Nw[OT  long  ago  a  poor  bricklayer  told 
^  his  wife  that  he  was  a  failure,  and, 
jumping  over  London  Bridge,  he 
drowned  himself  in  the  Thames,  leaving 
a  wiie  and  eight  children  "to  mourn  his 
loss."  Had  he  paused  awhile  to  medi- 
tate on  failure's  compensations  he 
would  be  alive  and  placidly  laying 
bricks  to-day.  Because  he  could  not 
"get  rich  quick"  like  Wallingford  or 
Andrew  Carnegie  he  went  and  "did 
himself  in."  He  forgot  that  it  was  he 
and  not  Carnegie  who  could  lay  bricks 
and  build  a  library.  In  fact,  the  poor 
man  was  a  mere  ordinary,  emotional, 
non-digesting  human  atom — and  not 
a  philosopher. 

One  need,  not  be  a  Buddhist  In  the 
final  unemotional  stage  of  one's  Hfe's 
career  to  realize  that  the  man  whose 
name  appears  daily  in  the  papers  and 
whose  wealth  is  a  byword  in  the  coun- 
try is  by  no  means  necessarily  a  suc- 
cessful man  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
term.  Something  more  than  early  to 
bed  and  early  to  rise  is  required  at  a 
rule  to  make  a  man  inordinately  rich. 
Ingenious  youth  slights  this  rather 
baleful  lesson,  but  a  time  comes  when 
the  question  puts  itself  almost  incvit- 


i 


Ton  Don't  H«Te  to  Go  lo  New  Tork 

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No  shoes  at  any  price  excel  those 
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them  in  style,  in  fit  or  in  wearinjr 
qualities.  You  can  settle  the  Rtyle 
argrument  for  yourself  by  droppinir 
into  almost  any  good  shoe  shot)  and 
askinsr  to  see  a  pair  of  Altrrw.  To  see 
them  is  to  want  them  on  your  feet — 
then  will  come  that  lasting  satisfac- 
tion that  these  good  shoes  ensure 
through  months  and   months   of   wear. 

Send  Coupon  for 
Vanity  Hand  Glass 

Size  5  inches  long,  fine 
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silver-finished  back,  en- 
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Co.  Limited 


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St. 

/, 

7 

^^  Send 
/^  me  a 
//      Vanity     \ 
s^^Hand  Glass  ; 

1 

ably:  Which  is  the  more  desirable  and 
expedient — possible  wealth  at  all  costs, 
or  a  moderate  competence  as  the  result 
of  little  more  than  routine  effort  ?  Of 
course  there  is  the  third  alternative  of 
being  poor  but  honest,  two  things  which 
do  not  run  in  harness  as  easily  as  those 
who  utter  the  platitude  may  suppose. 
The  old  leaven  of  original  sin  stirs  in 
most  of  us,  and  even  a  hard  working 
Pedlar  might — if  no  one  was  looking- — 
stoop  to  pick  up  an  unconsidered  trifle 
here  and  there  for  his  Pack — nay,  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


121 


fellow  hath  often  done  it,  and  lieth  in 
danger  of  being  caught  at  it,  some  mis- 
1  egotten  day,  and  beaten  with  heavy 
sticks. 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  MILLIONAIRE 

CrOR  all  great  aims  there  must  be 
great  achievements  and  great  sacri- 
fices. To  become  a  millionaire,  you 
must  stake  health,  the  mind's  balance, 
and  maybe  even  conscience  itself  on 
the  game.  Having  got  so  far  along  the 
golden  road  as  to  be  able  to  write  a 
cheque  for  a  hundred  thousand  or  so, 
you  would  be  astonished — had  the 
power  to  notice  it  remained  yours — at 
the  hardening  process  to  which  your 
nobler  instincts  have  been  subjected. 
Sympathy  has  become  a  word  to  jest 
at.  You  are  not  concerned  with  the 
feelings  of  others:  only  with  their 
jx)ckets — and  these  you  rifle.  You  can 
laugh  at  the  poor  penniless  devil  who 
is  sent  down  for  snatching  a  lady's 
purse,  for  you  are  immune,  though 
your  thieving  is  done  on  the  most 
gigantic  scale,  i'faith,  when  you  come 
to  think  of  it,  you  are  not  fit  company 
for  a  dejected  withal  honest  bricklayer, 
nor  are  you  worth  as  much  to  the 
world— especially  to  the  wife  and  eight 
children — as  that  hapless  fellow. 

If  everybody  who  was  a  failure  went 
and  put  an  end  to  himself  the  world 
would  lose  some  of  its  greatest  men. 
There  was  Mr.  Roosevelt  with  his  Big 
Stick,  his  grin  and  his  loud  voice,  who 
went  forth  to  battle  with  the  Trusts. 
Now  he  has  gone — and  the  Trusts  are 
still  gambolling.  There  was  Mr.  Taft 
with  his  Arbitration  Scheme — but  Mr. 
Taft  was  wiser  than  the  bricklayer. 
He  did  not  drown  himself,  as  he  might 
have,  in  the  Panama  Canal.  There  is 
the  Czar  of  Russia,  Mr.  Arthur 
Hawkes,  and  Sir  Wilfred  Laurier — and 
there  is  yourself  and — we  say  it  with 
modesty — ourself — Yet  we  do  not  rush 
over  the  parapet  of  the  bridge  to  find 
oblivion  among  the  drowned  rats  and 
cats  in  the  river.  We  are  failures — 
ourself  and  the  Czar  especially — in  that 
we  have  had  our  pet  schemes  turned 
down  one  way  or  another,  through  the 
pigheadedness  of  the  man  in  the  street, 
or  the  Government,  or  the  printer's 
devil. 

Time  and  again  the  Pedlar  has  look- 
ed over  the  parapet  and  mused  upon 
the  capacity  of  the  Don  for  dead  dogs 
and  decaying  mice.  It  is  so  with  us  all, 
and  the  bricklayer— who  was  evidently 
a  man^without  a  sense  of  humour — 
proves  the  rule  by  being  the  exception. 
When  the  like  of  him — instead  of  a 
stomachless  millionaire — swiftly  raises 
the  curtain  and  jumps  into  the  black- 
ness beyond,  we  pause  to  deplore  his 
lack  of  common  sense.  Multi-million- 
aires can  be  more  easily  spared  than  he 
who  may  lay  bricks  to  build  an  edifice 
of  Peace. 


All  Ready  for 
Strawberry  Time 

In  the  spring,  grocers  everywhere  stock  up  on  Puffed  Grains  to  get 
ready  for  strawberry  time.  Our  mills  are  run  night  and  day.  We  have 
sent  out  more  than  ten  million  packages  to  prepare  for  June  demands. 

For  people,  more  and  more,  are  mixing  Puffed  Grains  with  berries. 
The  tart  of  the  fruit  and  these  nut-like  morsels  form  a  delicious  blend. 

Serve  Together 

When  you  serve  berries,  serve  with  them  a  freshly-crisped  dish  of 
Puffed  Wheat  or  Puffed  Rice.  Mix  the  grains  with  the  berries,  so  that 
every  spoonful  brings  the  two  together. 

The  grains  are  fragile,  bubble-like  and  thin,  and  the  taste  is  like 
toasted  nuts.  They  add  as  much  deliciousness  as  the  sugar  and  the 
cream. 

Strawberries,  you  think,  are  hard  to  improve  upon.  But  try  this 
method  once. 


Puffed  Wheat,  10c 
Puffed  Rice,      15c 


Except  in 

Extreme 

West 


There  are  many  delightful  cereals.  We  make  17  kinds  ourselves. 
But  Prof.  Anderson,  in  creating  Puffed  Grains,  has  supplied  the  daintiest 
ready-cooked  morsels  which  come  to  the  morning  table. 

And  their  delights  are  endless.  They  are  good  with  sugar  and 
cream.  They  are  good  mixed  with  fruit.  Yet  countless  people  like 
them  best  when  served  like  crackers,  floating  in  bowls  of  milk. 

Girls  use  them  in  candy  making.  Boys  eat  them  dry  like  peanuts. 
Cooks  use  them  to  garnish  ice  cream.  In  all  these  ways  they  take  the 
place  of  nut  meaa. 

But  they  are  never  better  than  at  berry  time,  mixed  with  the 
morning  fruit. 

The  Quaker  Qdis  (J)mpany 

Sole  Makers 


122 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


"fpi^ 


Mom 


Rowing 
for  ME !' 


& 


No  MORE 
blistering,  back  -  breaking  oar  -  labor 
under  a  blazing  sun.  Never  again 
need  I  cut  short  the  day's  fishing  or  picnic 
so  that  I'll  be  able  to  pull  back  to  the  hotel 
in  time  for  supper.  Just  a  twist  of  the 
wheel  and  away  I  glide  to  the  steady  purr 
of  my  sturdy  little 


consin 


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Absolutely  dependable — always.  The  row- 
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Ignition  and  Rudder  Steering.  No  missing 
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One  studZnt  writes;  "I  know  that  you  witl 
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Dept.  297  Springfield,  MaM. 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  WOMAN 

AT  last  we  have  the  rights  of  the 

thing — the    reason    for    Woman's 

ultimate  ascendancy  over  Man  ! — the 

niison  d'etre  of  Mrs.  Paniihurst  and  her 

army  of  smasliers. 

FA)e  was  created  irst  ! 
There  it  is  in  a  nutshell — the  where- 
fore and  why  the  female  of  the  species 
is  deadlier  than  the  male.  The  theory 
is,  of  course,  advanced  by  a  doctor. 
In  these  drugless  days  the  physician, 
having  little  to  do  in  the  way  of  heal- 
ing, has  taken  to  writing  for  the  maga- 
zines and  papers,  and  the  articles  are 
at  least  novel  and  amusing,  especially 
this  statement  as  to  an  Adamless  Eden. 
One  Dr.  Hunter  is  the  authority.  How 
he  discovered  that  old  Mother  Eve  had 
the  garden  to  herself  and  the  serpent, 
is  not  explained.  Doubtless  some 
microbe  which  (or  whom)  the  good 
doctor  interviewed  in  the  processes  of 
the  laboratory  communicated  the 
matter  to  him.  Microbes  could  explain 
a  great  deal  that  is  still  dark  and 
mysterious — if  they  would.  But  they 
are  silent  creatures  conserving  their 
activities  for  work  upon  us.  Our 
independent  investigator  student  of 
biology,  geology,  ethnology  and  all  the 
other  ologies — assures  us  that  Eve's 
sex  at  first  ruled  the  universe.  Then 
(mere)  man  came,  and,  like  the  over- 
mastering creature  he  is,  asserted  his 
brute  force,  and  began  bossing  and 
beating  the  women.  Unused  to  treat- 
ment of  that  sort,  they  promptly  fell 
in  love  with  him  and  there  they 
remained  until  Mrs.  Pankhurst  came 
to  wake  them  up.  Now  the  war  is  on, 
and  no  doubt  it  will  be  a  case  of  the 
survival  of  the  fittest.  We  ofTer  the 
suggestion  of  Dr.  Hunter  as  a  fresh 
plank  for  the  Suffragette  platform — 
for  what  it  is  worth,  merely  comment- 
ing that  we  are  thankful  for  such  small 
mercies  as  not  having  lived  when  Eden 
was  Adamless,  and  not  being  in  the 
least  likely  to  be  here  when  that 
unhappy  estate  arrives  again. 
We  are  fond  of  our  old  Adam. 

DOG,  PIG  AND  ASS 

TOURNEYING  along  towards  the 
J  cross-roads,  we  came  upon  two 
fellows  a-brawling,  who  were  reviling 
one  another.  The  one  who  had  the 
upper  hand,  being  of  a  sporting  char- 
acter, flavored  his  anathema  with  abus- 
ive animal  names — which  we  thought 
hard  on  that  part  of  creation  from 
which  we  receive  much  love  and 
service,  and  repay  with  ingratitude. 
Our  choleric  acquaintance  appeared 
to  be  tolerably  well  acquainted  with  the 
bad  characters  existing  among  mem- 
bers of  the  brute  creation,  and  was 
able  to  refer  to  them — prodigally — 
for  summarily  describing  the  person 
with  whom  he  was  engaged  in  alterca- 
tion. 


It  must  be 

Bovril 


You  can  Le  sure  of  being  nourishe<l  if 
if  you  take  Bovril.  Partly  by  virtue  of  its 
own  foo<i  value,  partly  through  its  unique 
powers  of  assisting  assimilation  of  other 
foods,  Bovril  has  been  proved  to  produce 
an  increase  in  flesh,  bone  and  muscle  equal 
to  10  to  20  times  the  amount  of  Bovril 
taken.     But  it-musl-be-Botrii. 

Even  were  it  double  the  price* 

Bovril  would  still  be  an  economical 

and  indispensable  article  in  every 

home. 

Of  all  Stores,  etc.,  at 

1-oz.,  25c.:  2-oz.,  40c.;  4-oe.,  70c.; 

8-oz.,  $1.30;  10-oz.,  $2.25.     Bovril 

Cordial,   large,    $125;    5-oz.,   40c. 

16-oz.  Johnston's F-luid Beef  (Vimbos) $1.20 


IflE  MOST  POPULAR  PERFUME  IN  DAILY  USE 

INDISPENSABLE  ON   EVERY   DRESSING-TABLE 


For  the 

Bath  and  Toilet 

always  use  the  genuine 

MURRAY  Q\ 
S  LANMAN'S 


m 


Florida  Water 

Imitations  of  this  delicious  perfome 

are  namberless,  but  It  has 

never  been  equalled. 

IT  REFRESHES  AND  DEUGHTS 

m»  do«K  no  other. 


A]w»js  look  for  th«  Trsd«  Mark. 


PREPARED    ONLY    BY 

LANMAN  ®,  KEMP  J 

NE-W    YORK 

and 
.MONTKE.M.^ 


REFUSE    SUBSTITUTES! 


^ways  be  sure  to  look  for  our  Trade  Mark 
on  the  iieck  of  the  bottle. 


Thus "dog",  "hound,"  "puppy,"  and 
"toad"  adorned  his  conversation,  his 
adversary  meanwhile  being  unable  to 
get  a  word  in.  Having  exhausted 
every  form  of  doggy  epithet,  the  wrathy 
sportsman  let  himself  loose  upon  "ass." 
Now  whether  it  be  because  of  similarity 
of  appearance  or  character,  the  Pedlar 
cannot  bear  to  hear  his  hairy  brother 
abused.  When  civilization  lived  in  the 
E^ast,  the  ass  escaped  entirely  the 
injurious  reputation  with  which  he  has 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


123 


been  saddled  in  Europe  and  herea- 
bouts. Use  the  word  with  what  vigour 
you  like  to  an  Asiatic  and  he  will  hardly 
feel  aggrieved.  It  is  only  when  accli- 
matized in  countries  where  the  atmos- 
pheric conditions  cool  his  ardour  and 
sour  his  nature,  that  the  ass  developed 
that  stubborn  inertness  which  has 
made  him  so  useful  to  the  orator  and 
the  scold  as  an  example  of  these  and 
other  undesirable  attributes.  We  hate 
to  hear  an  ass  abused,  whether  because 
of  the  cross  on  his  back,  or  his  patient 
expression,  we  can  hardly  explain,  so 
hurrying  fast  we  made  our  way  from 
the  contestants  as  expeditiously  as 
possible,  noting  with  satisfaction  that 
our  choleric  friend  had  ceased  belaying 
the  poor  patient  ass,  but  was  now  deep 
in  porcine  phraselogy,  bestowing  with 
equal  generosity  "pig,"  "hog,"  and 
"swine"  on  his  long-suffering  com- 
panion whom  by  this  time  he  had 
rendered  speechless. 

AT  THE  CROSS-ROADS 

'"THE  man  at  the  cross-roads  had  a 

"^  great  deal  to  say  about  the  jewels 
found  under  an  old  cellar  in  the  heart 
of  the  City  of  London.  That  he  reads 
the  papers  and  has  the  eerie  imagina- 
tion of  the  Celt  is  very  apparent: — 

"Think  o'  that  would  ye  now,"  he 
began,  striking  a  light  on  the  step  of 
the  stile  and  passing  the  clay  to  the 
Pedlar  for  a  bit  of  a  shaugh.  "Three 
hundher  years  they  wor,  buried  alive 
in  the  cellar — jools  worth  ransoms. 
Think  of  a  watch  in  the  middle  of  an 
emerald  an'  it  goin'  all  the  time,  and 
the  bust  of  Queen  Elizabeth — bad  cess 
to  th'  ould  vargin  ! — lyin'  undher  th' 
stones  wid  the  horses'  feet  thrampin' 
ill  over  her  for  ages  an'  ages  !  Begor, 
X  bates  Bannagher.  They  wor  goin'  to 
Dring  the  chamber  av  horros  from 
juld  Newgare  to  the  same  place  where 
:h'  jools  was,  I  see,"  he  went  on,  "but 
t  appears  that  Maria  Manning,  she 
:hat  killed  the  gauger,  Pat  O'Connor, 
iome  time  in  th'  last  hundher  years, 
vas  wan  time  a  lady's  maid  in  the  same 
jlace,  Staff  jrd  House,  I  think  it  is — 
»  they  didn't  like  to  ray-instate  her 
)uld  mask  there  again.  Quare  people, 
:h'  English. 

"Did  ye  iver  hear  what  wan  o'  thim 
;ourists  said  to  th'  Dublin  man  ? 
Well,'  ses  the  fella  to  Pat  as  he  was 
)assing,  'you  should  get  your  ears 
opped,'  ses  he,  'they're  too  large  for  a 
nan.'  'Bedad,'  ses  Pat,  quick  as  the 
livil,  'I  was  just  thinking  your  own 
vould  want  to  have  a  gore  let  into 
him.  Sure  they're  too  small  for  any 
lacint  ass.'  " 

We  smoked  awhile  in  silence — Then 
'Is  your  pack  full  ?"  said  the  man  at 
he  cross-roads — "because  if  it  isn't 
ou  might  tuck  this  in  a  corner  of  it. 
lis  about  Carsfjn. 

"Wan    time    he    was    dhrivin'    his 


^ffi^^^mms^Mm?m!!(mmmmmm!^^^^ 


A  Father's  Soliloquy- 
No.  2. 

''Daddy's  Little  GirV 

"She's  the  picture  of  her  mother  the  first  time  we  met.  The 
same  eyes,  the  same  hair,  the  same  complexion,  the  same  figure, 
the  same  in  every  way. 

I'm  very  glad  indeed  that  I  took  out  that  London  Life  Endow- 
ment Policy  in  her  favor  and  payable  on  her  eighteenth  birthday. 

I  only  regret  that  I  didn't  take  out  a  larger  one — I'd  never  have 
missed  an  extra  hundred  or  two  a  year. 

However,  the  profits  are  far  in  excess  of  the  estimate,  and  it 
will  make  a  very  handsome  birthday  gift  for  Daddy's  little 
girl." 

That's  one  thing  about  The  London  Life  worth  remembering — 
It  performs  better  than  it  promises.  A  reliable,  economically- 
managed  company — no  wonder  people  say  that  its  policies  are  as 
"Good  as  Gold." 


The  London  Life  i 

Insurance     Company      M 

it'* 

LONDON  -  CANADA        ^ 


n 


SAMUEL  E.  KISER'S 

More  Sonnets  of  an  Office  Boy'' 


"nrHIS  is  something  every  man  who  had  a  real  childhood  should  read. 
It  will  bring  back  your  boyhood  days  with  a  bump.     The  world  will 
seem  brighter  to  you.     Every  man  will  be  a  good  fellow.     You  will  be  a 
better  fellow  yourself.     You  can  get  it  for  75  cents. 

//  your  newt  dealer  is  sold  out  send  direct  to 

Vanderhoof-Gunn  Co.,  Ltd.,  Publishers 

TORONTO         -        -        -         ONTARIO 


124 


Makes  Things  Hum 
onWashday! 

This  is  the  1900  Motor  Washer 
that  is    revolutionizing    washday. 
It  runs  by  motor  power  at  a  cost  of 
2  cents  a  week.    Does  the  washini 
and   wringing  so  swiftly  and  wel 
that  housewives  can  scarcely  be- 
lieve their  eyes  when  they  see  the 
clean  clothes  out  on  the  line, 
hours  ahead  of  (he  old  way! 
It  washes  a  tubful  of  dirt- 
iest clothes  in  Six  Minutes 
— or  even  less!   Wrings  the 
clothes  with  equal  rapidity 
and  better  than  by  hand!! 

It's  more  like  play  thani 

work  to  use  this  wonderiful  washer 

1900  Motor 
WASHER 

Sent  on  Free  Trial ! 

No  trouble  to  keep  ser^'iuits  when  you  have  this  Motor  Washer. 
They  <lelt(fht  to  use  it.  It  is  the  finest  washing  inaohine  in  the 
world.  The  trial  will  prove  its  supremacy.  We  gladly  semi  the 
comph;te  outfit,  including  Wringer— at  our  expen-st;— to  any  re- 
sponsible piwty  for  four  weeks"  severest  test  in  the  laundry.  Try 
it  on  heavy  hlankets.  rugs,  dainty  laces— everything!  Study  its 
design  and  construction;  unlike  any  other  washer.  We  take  it 
back  at  our  expense  if  you  decide  you  can  do  without  it.  Terms, 
cash  or  small  monthly  payments. 

Electric  or  Water  Power — Take  Your  Choice 

If  your  houae  is  wired  for  electricity,  you  can  use  the  Electric 
Motor  Washer,  which  attaches  Instsintly  to  an  ordinary  electric 
light  rtxture.  If  yon  have  running  water,  of  sulticient  power, 
you  can  use  the  Water  Motor  Washer.  Each  style  lioea  perfect 
work. 

Write  for  Fascioatintf  FREE  Books. 

Reai^l  the  amazing  story  of  the  1900.Motor  Washer.  Then  send 
for  one  on  trial  and  see  the  wonders  It  performs. 

Address    me   personally,    A.  L.   Morris,  Manager 
1900  Washer  Co.,  357  Yontfe  St..  Toronto.  Ont. 


j  Patented  V.H.  and 
foreign  countries 


The  Mop  that  gives  satisfaction. 
Ask  your  neighbor! 

Above  all  things  else  the 

Is  indispensable  as  the  house-cleaning 
season  approaches. 

Gets  at  all  the  hard-to-get -at  places 
and  saves  a  spell  of  back-aches  and 
f  other  physical  trials.    Keeds  the  hard- 
wood  floors  in  good  condition. 

— O-Ceciar  Mops  and  O-Cedar  Chemically 

Prepared  Dusters  from  your  dealer. 

CHANNELL    CHEMICAL    CO.,    LTD.' 

369  Sorauren  Ave.  Toronto 


RIDER  AGENTS  WANTED 

TTywh««  to  ride  and  •xbiblt  a  sanpl*  1914  Hyalop  Bicycle 
wtth  cestter  brake  asd  alllatestlmproTements. 

We  ship  on  approvaJ  to 

aoy  address  In  Canada,  without  any 
diposit.  and  aUow  1  Q  DAYS'  TRIAL. 

le  will  noE  cost  you  acentifyou  are  net 
fcatisfied  after  using  bicycle  lodays. 

DO  NOT  BUY  ^/»/4: 

or  sundries  at  any  firtce untilyon 
rMeivo  our  Utest  1914  Qlustr.ted  cata< 
lorue  and  h.Ta  ie.rDod  our  sp«cUl 
prices  and  attracllve   proposiHon. 

nuc  PZtlT  "  »"  ■'  "'"  "*' 
UnC  uCn  I  you  to  write  u«  a 
postal,  and  cataloffu.  and  full  Infor. 
matlon  will  bo  sent  to  you  fT9% 
Postpaid    by  rotuin  nail.      DO 

not  wait.    Write  it  now. 
HYSLOP  BROTHERS,  LImltad 
Devt.  C-M  TORONTO,  0»adi 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

motor-car  through  Belfast  an'  a  woman 
wid  a  babby  ran  up  an'  pushed  the 
child  through  the  window,  with — 
'You'll  shake  hands  wid  him,  Sir 
Edward,  won't  ye  ?  What  d'ye  think 
we've  called  him  ?  Faith — Edward 
Carson  Bonar  Law  McCarthy.  No 
less,' 

"Another  time  a  bundle  o'  wimmin 
ran  up  to  Carson  wid,  'We'll  go  to  Hell 
wid  ye,  Sir  Edward.'  And  what  d'ye 
think  th'  ould  ram  o'  the  North  said 
as  polite  as  can  be?  '  'Tis  very  nice  of 
ye,  ladies,  but  I  don't  know  why  in  the 
divil  ye  think  I'll  be  going  there.' 

"I  could  tell  him,"  said  the  man  at 
the  cross-roads,  as  he  knocked  the 
ashes  out  of  his  pipe  against  the  stile, 
and  clapped  it  in  his  pocket. 


Masked  Cavalier 

Continued  from  page  116. 

"Then  my  aunt  became  ill,  and  I  was 
hurried  away  to'  your  house.  I  never 
saw  the  naval  officer  again.  A  year 
later  I  learned  that  the  man  with 
whom  I  had  had  the  afTair  was  in 
trouble.  The  naval  officer  with  whom 
I  had  flirted  had  spoken  slightingly 
of  me.  My  former  lover  had  defended 
me.  One  sharp  word  led  to  another, 
and  the  end  of  the  matter  was  that  the 
naval  officer  got  knocked  down,  and 
my  defender  had  to  resign  from  the 
service  to  escape  dismissal." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you 
speak  of  my  son  ?"  demanded  Mr. 
Sanderson,  very  white  and  stem-look- 
ing. 

Geraldine  nodded.  "That  was  why 
he  went  away.  He  made  up  his  mind 
never  to  come  back  to  the  father  and 
the  girl  who  had  misjudged  him  until 
he  could  come  back  independent  and 
bearing  a  clean  name." 

"My  boy  !  my  boy  !"  interrupted 
Mr.  Sanderson.  "Is  he  here  ?  Have 
you  heard  from  him  ?" 

There  had  been  a  rustling  sound  out- 
side the  door  as  Geraldine  had  spoken. 
Now  it  flung  open,  and  his  boy  came 
in,  followed  by  Rose  who  was  too 
excited  to  speak  coherently,  but  flut- 
tered al^out  the  group,  making  incoher- 
ent exclamations,  and  beaming  upon 
everybody.  Father  and  son  clasped 
hands,  deeply  moved,  and  for  a 
moment  there  was  silence. 

After  the  first  emotions  of  the  re- 
united family  simmered  down  to  the 
point  where  ordinary  conversation  was 
possible,  Mr.  Sanderson  insisted  on 
hearing  the  history  of  Charlie's  years 
of  absence.  Briefly,  the  young  man 
had  gone  to  Canada,  enlisted  in  the 
Mounted  Police,  where  he  had  served 
a  term  as  constable  and  been  promoted 
to  corporvl.  Then  he  had  tlie  oppor- 
tunity to  "get  in  on  the  ground  floor" 


as  he  put  it — an  expression  that  had  to 
be  translated  for  Mr.  Sanderson — and 
made  a  considerable  sum  in  real  estate 
when  a  certain  new  town  had  gone  on 
the  market.  He  had  invested  the 
money  in  farm  land,  and  with  the 
proceeds  of  his  third  year's  crop  had 
come  back  to  England  to  find  his 
father. 

After  considerable  search,  he  had 
followed  them  to  Italy,  and  located 
them  in  Rome.  Uncertain  of  his  re- 
ception, he  had  given  Geraldine  a  note, 
one  night,  and  they  had  laid  their  plans 
for  his  return  to  the  family,  in  the 
course  of  their  arrangements  coming  to 
a  perfect  understanding  as  to  Geral- 
dine's  future.  Now,  they  were  re- 
united, and  it  seemed  as  if  everybody 
could  not  ask  questions  fast  enough. 
Mr.  Sanderson  was  particularly  inter- 
ested in  the  farm,  and  anxious  at  once 
to  go  to  Canada  with  his  boy. 

"The  farm  is  all  paid  for,  governor," 
he  explained,  "everything  free  and 
clear.  Four  hundred  acres  broken, 
about  fifty  head  of  fine  dairy  cattle  on 
the  place,  and  as  nice  a  little  house 
built  as  you'll  see  anywhere  inSaskatch- 
ewan.  The  only  trouble  about  it  is 
that  I'm  afraid  Geraldine  won't  find 
any  princes  in  the  pantry;  but  I  can't 
help  that." 

"That  reminds  me,"  said  Mr.  Sander- 
son, turning  to  Geraldine,  whose  eyes 
were  shining  like  stars,  "I  haven't  had 
an  explanation  of  your  little  excursion 
last  night,  but" — Geraldine  dimpled 
mischievously — "on  the  whole,  I  don't 
think  I  need  it." 

"No,"  she  said  demurely,  "I  don't 
think  you  do;  and  Charlie  since  you 
haven't  provided  any  princes  in  the 
pantry,  I  think  I  shall  have  to  take 
along  one  that  I  found — under  a 
balcony — in  Rome." 


Spinal  Maginnis 

Continued  from  page  lOS. 

them  that  the  decision,  which  was  to 
be  by  popular  vote,  could  easily  be 
swung  in  Spinal's  favor  if  he  could  only 
be  induced  to  spread  himself. 

The  literary  aspirations  of  the  Upper 
Third  were  a  joke  to  the  rest  of  the 
school,  but  far  from  that  to  those  of 
the  competitors  who  slept  in  the  back- 
room. 

Only  one  day  remained  before  the 
day  when  the  essays  were  to  be  read 
and  Spinal's  friends  were  in  despair, 
while  Yankee  had  gone  to  the  length  of 
writing  home  to  ask  if  he  could  not 
have  his  monthly  allowance  two  weeks 
in  advance. 

Chummy,  as  a  last  resort,  was 
imploring  Spinal  on  their  way  from 
afternoon  school  to  make  one  more 
effort. 

"I  know  what's  the  matter,"  Spinal 


BISSELUS 


Makes 
Housework  Easier— 

N'o  oth'T  household  utility  gives  so  much  genuine 
coinlurt  and  convenience  as 

*  Cyco" 

Ball  BeariBtf 

CARPET   SWEEPER 

It  welehii  bat  a  trifle,  oper»t«s  with  a  touch.  coDflnes  tbe 
duBt  anrt  pUkn  up  tba  roU'-ellaneou'*  litter  other  c)faniiJK  'It- 
vi<-et  fiinnot  Kitther.  It  malci,'*  iiw.-.'phiga  plwisant  dutv  in- 
fll<'a<i  Mf  a  dnhiifi-ry.  Entirely  self-adjusting  anJ  anioiri'rtti.;- 
An  i-xtra  ■w-.-.-ix-r  for  uj-slJiin*  saves  Btt-pe.  To  U^  hail  of 
Jwil.-rHiv.Ty«lj,n-.  $3.00  to  $4  75.  Ixt  nsn,ail  you  the  book- 
^jt.   "  Eiisy,  Ecouomical,  Sanitary  Sweeping'." 

BISSELL  CARPET  SWEEPER  CO. 

GRAND  RAPIDS.  MICH. 

Canadiaa  Tactory — Niaifara  rails,  Oof. 

"  We    Sweep   the    World" 


No  Plates-No  Films 

New  Camera  Just  Out 


Hero  at  last— the  very  ram- 
era  You  want.  No  axpari- 
•IM*  n*«d«d    to   oporata, 

Amazinti  invention.  (iniMhocl 
picturai  mmje  on  the  Bpot  in 
a  minute's  time. 


99 


The 
"Mandel-ette 

A  Qne  minute  camera.  Elim- 
inates films,  p]at«a  an<l  dark 
room.  No  fUM  or  troublf. 
Pictures  made  at  small  coat. 
Great  discovery.  For  yoar 
I  vacation,  at  home  or  all  occa- 
sions, you  can't  afford  to  be 
without  a  "Mandcl-titte." 

Special  Money 
Back  Offer 

As  makcn  and  Inventors, 

we  want  everybody  to  own  a 

Mandol-ette'^  Camera.    We 

•ell  direct  toyou  at  rock  l>ot- 

tom  price.    Order  from  this 

maka  pfcturea  with  th( 

and  If  It. ■ 


--.  -™.  camera  an3  If  It  docB  not  do 
h  1^  to  M  all  we  claim,  we  refnnd  your 
money, 


tP'^L.^^*^  ton 

l1->i«|.ata:can 
I  irlik  fa  to  lio  all 

'"'*  ■  t*!  nn  Complete 
9*'-VU  Outfit 

rti'ftF.V*"  **/  vmrt-rl  port) 
Ootflt  include*  eaiMn  and 


sseid't; 
free  book 


■opplioa  to  make  1«  pictDrea. 
pood  trtpod,  II .(»-)  a'TTliiionni 
r.Ktraeards, ;; 
'  ><m't  wait— O 

'rn  about  Ihia  ' 

['A     ..r  «Tit..  t-T  ((..■  tr»«  booh-NOw!""  '     '  '  "■■■■» 

..„  THE  CHICAGO  FERROTYPE  CO. 

"■*-  aff-91  b^tmm«^  at.,  mw  votm,  w.y. 


CMicaoo.  III. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

exclaimed  with  a  sudden  inspiration. 
"What  I  need  is  to  put  some  stuff  on 
my  eyes  like  those  Durphys  Old  Bill 
read  about.  I'm  going  right  down  to 
Strong's  drug  store  to  see  if  he  has 
anything  like  that." 

Chummy,  hoping  to  get  Spinal  home 
and  at  work  for  a  last  desperate  effort, 
thought  the  best  way  was  to  humor 
him  and  so  he  risked  being  caught  out 
of  bounds  and  accompanied  Spinal  to 
the  chemist's. 

"Have  you  any  ointment  for  the 
eyes  ?"  Spinal  asked.  "The  Durphys 
that  Dr.  Tassie  told  us  about  had  some 
that  was  pretty  good.  I  want  some 
like  that." 

The  clerk  set  a  small  package  on  the 
counter  and  said  with  a  wink  at 
Chummy.  "Twenty-five  cents,  please. 
That  will  do  the  business." 

Spinal  positively  refused  to  go  to 
work  when  Chummy  finally  got  him 
back  to  the  dormitory.  All  the  others 
were  busily  putting  the  finishing 
touches  to  their  papers,  having  come 
to  the  conclusion  that,  since  Spinal 
was  clearly  out  of  it,  they  might  as 
well  do  their  best  and  try  to  keep  the 
prize  in  the  room. 

Spinal,  for  his  part,  devoted  himself 
to  unwrapping  the  box  of  eye  salve  and 
reading  the  directions,  after  which  he 
industriously  smeared  his  eyes  with  the 
salve.  This  caused  him  to  look  rather 
watery-eyed  at  supper,  which  led  Dr. 
Tassie  to  entertain  suspicions  of  a 
fight  and  to  enquire  what  had  occurred 
to  make  him  weep. 

Spinal,  who  had,  for  reasons  of 
public  policy,  long  sat  at  Dr.  Tassie's 
right  hand,  explained  that  it  was  just 
some  work  which  he  had  been  doing  in 
connection  with  the  "littery"  competi- 
tion, at  which  Dr.  Tassie  smiled  and 
said  he  had  been  told  that  the  back- 
room presented  a  somewhat  littery 
appearance  of  late. 

S|)inal  did  not  respond  to  this  quip 
of  (^Id  Bill's,  as  he  usually  considered 
it  gcod  policy  to  do,  but  sat  absorbed 
in  thought,  staring  straight  ahead  of 
him  at  Dr.  Tassie's  desk  for  the  rest  of 
the  meal.  And  when  the  study  hour 
came,  he  was  again  seized  with  perifKlic 
tits  of  staring  at  the  desk,  only  desisting 
in  c>rder  to  scribble  fe\crishly. 

Dr.  Tassie  indulgently  relaxed  his 
usual  rule  of  exacting  industrious 
prejiaration  for  the  next  day's  classes, 
when  he  encjuired  what  Spinal  was 
busying  himself  with  and  was  told 
that  it  was  his  assay. 

"Yes,  yes,  very  true,  searching  for  a 
trace  of  precious  metal." 

Chummy,  who  sat  beside  Yankee, 
shook  his  head  gravely  and  said,  "You 
lose,  old  man.  I  only  hope  Spinal 
isn't  going  daffy  over  it." 

And  inclccd  it  looked  like  it  to  see 
Spinal  with  his  watery  eyes  sit  staring 
;it  the  desk  for  minutes  at  a  stretch  and 


125 


Diuanette 


Design 
Mission 


WDIS[>E*«ABI,E 
OQVVENIB/SCE 

IN  THE  furnish- 
ing of  new  homes, 
many  of  which 
will  have  their  be- 
ginnings this  month, 
the  Convertible  Daven- 
port or  Divanette  may 
become  one  of  the  most 
essential  of  essential 
details. 

It  should  be  a  Bliubt 
For  in  its  double 
service  as  a  fine  appear- 
ing piece  of  furniture 
and  as  either  an  emer- 
gency or  every-night 
use  as  a  bed,  a  Klndri 
will  become  more  and 
more  indispensable  to 
the  young  people  whose 
accommodations  for 
entertaining  guests 
over  night  may  be 
limited. 

Also  it  will  accomplish  an 
actual  Baving:  for  them,  for  it 
will  make  it  unnecessary  for 
J.!lS"V*°  purchase  an  additional 
bed  for  the  "spare  room"  or 
t°  "■"'  *  place  \ns  enough  in 
which  to  have  a  spare  room. 

If  it  is  a  HlnM  it  will  never 
in  any  detail  of  appearance,  in 
Us  service  as  a  day-time  piece 
of  furniture,  lictray  its  purpose 
"".,*  «^-  And  in  both  uses  it 
will  be  found  togrive  all  that 
could  possibly  be  required  of 
It  in  comfort. 

Your  preference  or 
your  space  accommo- 
dations may  be  suited 
in  the  three  styles  of 
ilic  SnM  Kind,  the 
.Somernaultic.  the  De 
Luxe  or  the  Divanette 

S...1.I  fnr   the  „,.„■    I,.„i,l.,, 

"The  HooaeThatGrew." 


0  NiCnT   fttRvice 


The  KbiM  Bed  Company,  Ltd. 

1  ilitl'.nl  Mrp-'t 

New  York  Toronto       Grand  Rapids 

The  store  that  sell.i  the  KWM  Kind  la 

ativaps  glad  to  demonstrate  them 


then    fall   to  scribbling   for  dear  life. 

The  fame  of  the  backroom  boys  of 
Dr.  Tassie's  house,  and  their  unprece- 
dented activities  had  been  noised 
abroad  among  the  other  houses.  Even 
so,  the  school  was  all  unprepared  for 
the  bewildering  succession  of  literary 
surprises  displayed  on  the  dav  when 
it  as.scmbled  to  award  the  pri/c 

Ranald  MacDonald,  being  <ii  the 
head  of  the  class,  was  called  first  to  the 
platform. 

He  prwiuced  a  formidable  roll  of 
foolscap  which  caused  his  conux-titors 


126 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


ENGAGEMENT  RINGS 

Diunondi  of  high  quality  and  brilliance,  in 
finely  proportioned  14k  gold  platinum  tipped 
settings.    They  are  the  best  value  obtainable. 


(^9>    ^ 


$25.00 


$40  00 


S50.00 


1^' 


^ 


009 


S6.00 


$8.00 


$7.00 


WEDDING  RINGS 

Our  rings  are  perfect  in  fonn  and  color.  They 
are  made  of  18k  gold  without  joints  and 
hardened  by  a  special  process,  ensuring  the 
hardest  wearing  quality. 

Silt  card  sent  to  any  address. 

Correspondence  solicited. 

JOHN  S.  BARNARD 

194  Dundas  Street,  London,  Canada. 


RED 
MAN 


THE  COLLAR  THAT  MADE  THE 

RED  MAN  BRAND  FAMOUS 

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STAMMERING 

overcome  positively.  Our  natural  methods  per- 
manently restore  natural  speech.  Graduate  pupils 
everywhere.  Write  for  free  advice  and  literature. 

THE  ARNOTT  INSHTUTE.BERLIN.CAN. 


to  gasp,  and  plunged  "in  medias  res," 
as  follows: 

"All  peoples  in  all  ages  have  had 
their  distinctive  literatures,  written 
or  handed  down  by  oral  tradition. 
From  the  inspired  flights  of  the  Hebrew 
prophets  to  the  superstitious,  grovel- 
ling tales  of  African  savages,  race  is 
shown  in  the  works  of  imagination. 
Even  among  the  narrow  glens  of  my 
ancestral  land,  each  clan  differs  in 
character  from  its  next  neighbor.  We 
may  perhaps  see  evidence  of  this  in 
to-day's  exhibition. 

"There  is  a  sort  of  traditional 
aphorism  peculiar  to  the  Gaelic  in  which 
the  characteristics  of  two  clans  are 
set  side  by  side  reminding  one  of  the 
contrasting  clauses  in  the  Hebrew 
proverbs. 

"Thus  we  have  'Mackenzies  for 
shoween  off;  MacPhairsons  for  de'il 
ma'  caur,'  and  also  'MacDonalds  for 
swagger;  MacLeans  for  airs.'  What 
our  representative  of  the  clan  Mac- 
Pherson  may  have  in  store  for  us,  who 
can  tell  ?  But  I  have  undertaken  to 
give  you  some  insight  into  the  litera- 
ture of  the  MacDonald  clan. 

"There  are  two  ancient  Gaelic  books 
in  manuscript,  which  treasured  by  a 
branch  of  the  MacDonalds,  which 
have  a  somewhat  romantic  history: 
the  Red  Book  of  Clanranald  and  the 
Black  Book  of  Clanranald,  the  com- 
position of  the  bards  of  the  clan. 

"Both  have  been  lost  and  found 
again — the  one  picked  up,  fortunately 
by  a  Gaelic  scholar  of  discernment,  in 
a  second-hand  book  store  in  Dublin; 
the  other  found  among  the  effects  of 
a  famous  borrower  'Ossian'  Mac- 
Pherson,  after  his  death.  And  both 
were  finally  returned  to  the  Chief  of 
Clanranald,  by  whose  family  they  are 
now  carefully  guarded.  Let  me  give 
you  some  translations  from  these  books, 
illustrative  of  the  proverbial  swagger: 

"There  is  no  joy  without  the  Clan  Donald; 
No  battle  when  they  are  a-wanting; 
First  of  all  the  clans  in  all  the  earth; 
Each  man  of  them  is  a  hundred; 
The  noblest  clan  which  you  can  find; 
A  race  as  brave  as  they  are  peaceful; 
The  clan  whose  praise  does  fill  the  lands; 
Famed  for  their  faith  and  godliness; 
The  clan  so  faithful,  bold  and  brave; 
The  Clan  so  swift  amid  the  fight; 
The  Clan  s^  gentle  among  men; 
And  yet  in  battle  none  so  fierce. 

"Quite  a  swagger  picture  of  the 
MacDonald  and  his  followers 
who,  according  to  his  claim,  were 
practically  everybody,  as  you  would 
see  if  time  permitted  me  to  read  the 
whole  poem. 

"But  I  think  I  have  said  enough  to 
prove  my  point  that  the  character  of 
a  race  is  shown  in  its  literature,  and," 
with  a  glance  at  Spinal  who  was  seated 
complacently  at  the  foot  of  the  class 
with  trouble  yet  a  long  way  off,  "I 
believe  it  will  be  proved  first  and  last." 

Spinal  returned   the    glance    suspi- 


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The  sleeves,  pockets  and  joins  are 
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ordinary  cases,  making  the  garment 
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wool.  The  top  of  pocket  is  welted  to 
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Coats  this  will  be  recognized  as  an 
immense  advantage. 

"CEETEE" 

Sfaaker-knit 
SWEATER  COATS 

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In  the  summer  they  keep  one  warm 
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ciously,  after  the  manner  of  frontiers- 
men and  Indian  fighters  in  his  favorite 
literature — therein  spoken  of  as  "ask- 
ance"— and  wondered  if  Ranald  had 
any  inkling  of  the  'De'il  ma'  caur' 
natureof  his  composition.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  that  dreamy  youth,  having 
perhaps  a  touch  of  Keltic  second  sight, 
had  made  a  close  guess. 

But  as  Dr.  Tassie  took  no  notice  of 
this  innuendo  Spinal  settled  back  for 
a  season  of  enjoyment  of  the  efforts  of 
his  contemporaries. 

Gabby  on  the  Cumaean  Sibyl  and 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


127 


lost  opportunities  was  inspiring. 
Yankee  Dickinson  on  John  Hay's  Pike 
■County  Ballads,  with  liberal  quota- 
tions from  "The  Pledge  of  Spunky 
Point"  was  a  revelation;  Chummy 
Jones,  Harry  Freeman,  and  the  worth- 
ies of  the  Upper  Third  one  and  all  put 
forth  good,  straightforward,  if  not 
always  brilliant  efforts,  to  uphold  the 
honor  of  the  class. 

There  now  only  remained  John 
Smoke,  the  young  Chief,  between 
Spinal  and — what  ? 

But  John  was  capturing  his  audience 
with  an  account  of  the  Iroquois  Book 
of  Rites,  and  Spinal  after  passing 
through  a  blank  space  of  panic-stricken 
paralysis,  forgot  his  impending  disaster 
as  he  became  one  with  the  spellbound 
school. 

"This,"  John  was  saying,  "is  the 
address  to  the  shades  of  departed 
heroes,  recited  during  the  ceremonies 
of  the  condoling  council  and  is  word 
for  word  as  it  has  been  addressed  to 
the  warriors  of  my  race  year  after  year 
for  hundreds  of  years,  for  it  has  been 
preserved  in  records  of  wampum,  care- 
fully guarded  by  the  Chiefs. 

"In  effect  it  is  a  tribute  to  the  super- 
iority of  the  ancient  worthies  who 
founded  the  League  of  the  Six  Nations 
and  a  modest  confession  of  the  weak- 
ness and  degeneracy  ot  their  descend- 
ants. 

"What  a  contrast,"  he  here  inter- 
polated, "to  the  spirit  of  the  Clan 
MacDonald  !  Thus  character  shows 
out  in  literature. 

"  Now,  the  League  has  become  old.  now 
there  is  nothing  but  wilderness.  Ye  are  in  your 
graves  who  established  it.  Ye  have  taken  it 
with  you  and  have  placed  it  under  you,  and 
there  is  nothing  left  but  a  desert.  There  ye 
have  taken  your  intellects  with  you.  What 
ye  established  ye  have  taken  with  you.  Ye 
have  placed  under  your  heads  what  ye  establish- 
efl — the  Great  League. 

"  This'is  the  literal  translation.  A 
sympathetic  scholar  paraphrased  [it 
thus: 

"The  great  law  has  become  old  and  has  lost 
its  force.  Its  authors  have  passed  away  and 
have  carried  it  with  them  into  their  graves. 
They  have  placed  it  as  a  pillow  under  their 
heads.  Their  degenerate  successors  have 
inherited  their  names  but  not  their  mighty 
intellects,  and  in  the  flourishing  region  which 
they  left,  naught  but  a  desert  remains." 

The  young  Chief  finished  an  impas- 
sioned eulogy  in  praise  of  the  virtues 
of  the  red  man  and  was  followed  with 
hearty  applause  as  he  took  his  seat. 

Spinal  must  now  face  his  fate. 

Dr.  Tassie,  who  felt  that  the  sporting 
interest  of  the  event  was  exhausted, 
remarked  facetiously  by  way  of  a  good 
finish  that  they  would  do  well  to  listen 
attentively  to  MacPherson;  "he  could 
write  as  good  an  es.say  as  any,  if  he 
had  the  mind  to,"  and  then  sank  into 
a  reverie  in  which  he  saw  the  Upper 
Third,  transformed  by  his  inspiring 
effor's  from  refractory  scapegraces  into 


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university  prize-winners,  carrying  all 
before  them  at  the  Toronto  examina- 
tions and  thus  rewarding  him  for 
labors,  physical  as  well  as  mental, 
such  as  he  had  exerted  upon  no  other 
class  in   all   his  experience,   when   he 


he 


ears 


trust    his 
varlet's  composi- 


realized — could 

that  the  lazy  young 

tion  was  being  greeted  with  rapturous 

cheers    and    laughter  ! 

Spinal  had  been  convulsing  his 
hearers  with  an  earnest  account  of  how 
he  had  sought  the  ointment  "used  by 
the  Durphys  in  the  desert"  and  had 
found  that  it  was  labeled  "Pettit's  eye 
salve."  This  had  startled  him  with 
the  thought  that  it  was  the  very  thing 
for  his  individual  case,  as  he  had  been 
called  "pet"  in  his  childhood.  "  Pet, 
its  eye  salve  ! "  and  so  he  had  trust- 
ingly applied  it. 

The  thought  of  the  burly  Spinal 
Maginnis  ever  having  been  called 
"Pet"  was  ludicrous  enough,  but 
when  he  described  the  magical  way  in 
which,  after  the  anointing,  he  had  seen 
with  his  mind's  eye  "the  forbidden 
treasures  of  literature"  which  lay 
imprisoned  in  Dr.  Tassie's  desk,  those 
who  had  seen  the  performance  remem- 
bered the  pathetic  picture  of  Spinal 
with  his  watery  eyes  writing  against 
time  and  they  led  an  outburst  of 
applause. 

"Yes,"  he  cried,  rushing  headlong  to 
destruction,  "the  defamation  of  this 
context  which  I  hold  in  my  hand,  is 
the  only  officious  virgin.  It  is  the 
choice  of  our  respcted  head  master  and 
is  in  his  own  handwriting — 'Seeking 
forbidden  treasures  of  literature.'  " 

Spinal's  murderous  attack  upon  the 
Queen's  English  when  his  watchful 
censor.  Chummy,  was  unable  to  inter- 
fere, appalled  even  those  who  knew  him 
best.  But  he  was  approaching  a  sub- 
ject which  the  stimulus  of  the  mad- 
dening applause  of  his  fellows  could 
not  swerve  him  from  treating  with  pro- 
found respect,  nor  from  handling  with 
the  most  correct  language  at  his  com- 
mand— the  story  of  the  Red  Man  in 
fiction. 

Dr.  Tassie  sat  grimly  and  ominously 
unmoved  as  Spinal  continued. 

"Therefore  you  are  about  to  listen  to 
the  only  prize  assay,  'Forbidden 
treasures  of  literature  !'  I  refer  to  those 
universally  read  works,  the  stories  of 
'Nick  of  the  Woods,'  that  scientific 
hero  who  scattered  his  Indian  foes  by 
means  of  fireworks  and  electric  batter- 
ies; 'The  Silent  Slayer,'  whose  air  gun 
was  as  mjsterious  as  effective;  'The 
Iron  Handed  Trapper,'  whose  artificial 
arm  always  struck  terror  into  the 
hearts  of  the  pesky  redskins  when  used 
at  close  quarters;  'Oonomoo  the 
Huron,'  nature's  nobleman,  whose 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  cowardly 
Shawnees  after  twenty  of  them  had  bit 
the  dust,  shot  by  his  unerring  rifle  and, 
his  ammunition   being  exhausted,   he 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


129 


clove  the  skull  of  the  twenty-first  Ify- 
hurling  his  tomahawk  in  one  last 
mighty  effort  as  he  sank  exhausted  by 
many  wounds — " 

Spinal  paused  to  brush  away  a  tear 
which  many  believed  to  be  genuine, 
for  it  was  remembered  how  he  had 
been  found  sobbing  as  he  first  read  the 
pathetic  story,  and  more  than  once 
afterwards  until  the  inevitable  confisca- 
tion had  relieved  his  feelings  from 
further  harrowing. 

Dr.  Tassie,  in  common  with  the 
whole  school,  had  been  swept  along  on 
the  current  of  eloquence,  but  now 
realized,  with  a  mental  gasp,  that 
Spinal  had  been  recounting  the  titles 
of  yellow-covered  dime  novels  which 
he,  himself,  had  seized  at  sight  until 
there  had  been  accumulated  a  collec- 
tion which  it  would  be  hard  to  match 
outside  the  publishing  houses  whence 
they  sprang. 

(jnly  one  thing  could  happen  in  such 
a  case  of  outraged  dignity  and  none 
knew  better  than  Spinal  what  that  was. 
Dr.  Tassie  led  him  significantly  from 
the  hall.  And,  though  his  right  hand 
was  first  numb  and  then  tingling  with  a 
thousand  shooting  pains  as  when  one  is 
emerging  from  threatened  freezing,  he 
felt,  as  he  returned  from  the  front  hall, 
a  stout-hearted  sense  of  satisfaction 
with  his  bargain  and  a  worthy  belief 
that  he  would  do  it  again  at  the  same 
price. 

Meanwhile,  Chummy,  with  char- 
acteristic presence  of  mind,  had  per- 
suaded Paddy  Moyles,  who  was  left  in 
charge,  that  it  woukl  save  Dr.  Tassie's 
valisable  time  to  take  the  vote  in  his 
absence.  Slips  of  paper  were  all  ready 
on  Dr.  Tassie's  desk  and  (^hummy 
volunteered  to  distribute  them.  This 
gave  him  an  opportunity  to  put  in 
some  effective  work  for  Spinal  and 
none  knew  better  than  Chummy  how 
and  when  to  pull  off  a  coup.  He  went 
straight  to  Mungo  Strathbogic,  who 
remained  a  constant  joke  and  could 
start  a  laugh  at  any  time  simply  by 
letting  his  broad  Scotch  accent  be 
heard.  Mungo  also,  though  in  the 
fifth,  was  chaffed  so  continually  by  his 
dassmates  that  he  welcomed  the 
iociety  of  the  lower  school  boys  as  a 
■eiief  and  was  unusually  familiar  for 
|i  fifth  form  boy.  Moreover,  he  was 
mmoderately  fond  of  sausfige  rolls. 
What  a  combination  for  a  politician  ! 
hinnmy  fitted  the  pieces  of  his  op- 
)ortunity  together  as  he  crossed  the 
oom.    He  whis|)ered : 

"Mungo,  old  chappie,  Spinal  bets 
he  sausage  rolls  for  our  room  that  he 
loesn't  win  the  prize.  His  gov'nor 
ives  him  five  dollars  if  he  does  win. 
'he  five  all  goes  for  sausage  rolls  if  he 
ets  stuck.  Vou  come  in  on  this,  fict 
n  your  feet  and  move  that  Spinal 
;ins." 
There  was  no  need  to  distribute  any 


'     The 
Last  Call 
to  Breakfast 

My!    How   everybody 
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er  says  "Last  call  to 

breakfast." 
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ballots.  Mungo's  motion  that  it  was 
the  unanimous  sense  of  this  meeting 
that  the  first  prize  should  be  awarded 
to  the  fearless  young  champion  of  their 
imperiled  liberties,  Spinal  Maginnis, 
and  the  second  prize  to  the  Young 
Chief,  John  Smoke,  for  his  masterly 
exjjosition  of  Indian  character  was 
seconded  by  a  score  at  once,  quickly 
put  by  Paddy  Moyles,  always  good- 
natured  and  now  stimulated  to  unwont- 
ed   promptness   by    Chummy   at   his 


elbow,  and  ihe  ayes  were  still  ringing 
in  a  mightyshout,  mingled  with  laughter 
and  cheers,  as  the  distinguished  littera- 
teur, all  unconscious  of  the  honors 
thrust  upon  him,  took  his  seat. 

Spinal's  sporting  impulse  to  win  his 
bet  was  u[)perinosi  when  the  result  was 
announced.  Rising  and  snapping  his 
secontl  finger  on  the  !)all  of  his  thumb, 
which  meant,  "Please,  sir,  may  I 
speak  ?"  he  sjiid  modestly,  "It  was  the 
eye  salve   that   did   it,   sir.     I   never 


130 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


International    Harvester 
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Cinder*,  Reapers 

Headers,  Mowers 

Rakes,  Stackers 

Hay  Loaders 

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CORN  MACHINES 

Planters,  Pickers 

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Ensilage  Cotters 

Sbellers,  Shredders 
TILLAGE 

CombinatioD, 

Pes  and  Sprinx-Tostb, 

and  Disk  Harrows 

Cultivators 

GENERAL  LINE 

Oil  and  Gas  Enf  ines 

Oil  Tractor! 

Mannre  Spreaders 

Cream  Separators 

Farm  Wagons 

Motor  Tracks 

Threshers 

Grain  Drills 

Feed  Grinders 

Knife  Grinders 

Binder  Twins 


T>UY  an  International  Harvester  en- 
-'-'  gine,  take  care  of  it  as  any  machine 
should  be  cared  for  and  a  dozen  years  or 
more  from  now  it  will  still  be  working  for 

you. 

It  will  save  you  and  your  family  endless  hours  of 
hard  labor  in  pumping,  sawing,  grinding,  spraying, 
running  separator,  etc. 

Buy  an  I  H  C  engine.  They  last  longer,  bum 
less  fuel,  are  simpler,  and  givs  you  most  power. 
Hereare  a  few  of  the  reasons:  Offset  cylinder  heads, 
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heavy  drop  forged  crank  shafts  and  connecting 
rods,  etc.  Best  material  and  construction  mea>  the 
best  engine.  IHC  engines  are  built  in  all  styles, 
and  in  all  sizes  from  1  to  60-H.  P.  They  operate 
on  low  and  high  grade  fuels. 

Not  every  local  dealer  handles  IHC  engines. 
The  one  who  does  is  a  good  man  to  know.  If  you 
do  not  know  who  he  is,  we  will  tell  you  when  you 
write  us  for  catalogues. 


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The 
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highest  priced  instruments  made.-  Yet — 
by  using  modern  methods  and  employing 
every  up-to-date  labor-saving  device,  we 
are  able  to  give  you  a  piano  of  equal  or 
higher  quality  at  a  clear  saving  of  $100. 

It  is  this  unique  combination  of  high  quality  and  honest  price  that  has 
caused  the  Sherlock- Manning  to  be  known  as 

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We  are  prepared  to  make  good  all  our  claims,  and  also  to  prove  that  we  can 
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thought  about  what  was  in  your  desk 
until  I  got  it  and  then  I  seemed  to  see 
everything  there  just  like  the  Durphys 
that  you  read  about,  and  that  was 
external  help." 

This  seemed  far-fetched  to  every- 
body and  Yankee  muttered  to  Chum- 
my, "I  guess  we've  got  him  all  right. 
He  needn't  try  to  wiggle  out." 

But  Dr.  Tassie  was  glad  to  clutch  at 
a  straw  to  extricate  himself  from  what 
was  indeed  a  difficult  position.  It  was 
clearly  impossible  to  award  the  prize 
to  the  boy  whom  he  had  just  punished 
for  his  essay,  so  he  said,  "You  are 
quite  right.  John  Smoke,  come  for- 
ward and  get  the  prize."  This  proved 
to  be  a  handsome  volume  of  Macaulay's 
essays  and  poems,  and  as  Spinal 
already  had  a  duplicate  of  this,  re- 
ceived on  the  only  previous  occasion 
on  which  he  had  won  a  prize,  he  felt 
doubly  justified  in  his  renunciation. 

TJie  Grub  Committee  of  the  back- 
room under  the  astute  leadership  of 
Chummy  Jones  made  the  very  most  of 
a  situation  fertile  in  possibilities. 

Yankee,  who  was  honorable  if  im- 
provident, was  persuaded  to  borrow 
against  his  expected  allowance  enough 
to  pay  his  score  at  Mrs.  Knox's  and 
then  in  payment  of  his  bet  to  run  up  a 
larger  one.  As  Mungo  had  done  his 
best,  he  must,  of  course,  he  counted  in 
and  treated  handsomely  at  that,  and 
it  might  be  mentioned  here  that  it 
took  Yankee  two  months  to  pay  thedebt. 

Then,  after  solemn  consultation 
Spinal  was  counselled  and  induced  to 
draw  up  a  letter  to  his  father  giving  a 
truthful  account  of  the  competition 
and  of  his  being  awarded  the  prize  by 
vote  of  the  assembled  school.  This 
was  certified  to  by  Chummy,  Gabby 
and  Harry  over  their  signatures  with 
the  additional  information  that  Spinal 
had  with  characteristic  generosity  gi\en 
the  prize  to  the  boy  who  was  second. 

Spinal  and  the  Grub  Committee  in 
due  course  called  at  the  local  offcc  of 
the  Bank  of  Montreal  to  cash  his  draft, 
which  Colonel  MacPherson  had 
doubled  to  ten  dollars  because  of 
Spinal's  generosity. 

Spinal  insisted  upon  being  paid  in 
gold,  and  departed  from  the  bank  to- 
wards Mrs.  Knox's.  As  he  handed  the 
gleaming  disk  over  to  Chummy  Jones, 
Chairman  of  the  Committee,  he  said  : 
"That  was  something  like  an  assa\- 
after  all. 

"Old  Bill  said  out  in  the  hall  that  it 
was  in-com-bat-i-ble  with  human  intel- 
ligence, and  I  looked  that  up  and  it 
means  undisputable — doesn't  it?" 

Mrs.  Knox,  warned  by  the  startling 
performances   at   Yankee's   treat   a.nd 
encouraged  by  the  unwonted  crossing  i 
of  her  palm  with  gold,  had  made  exten 
sive  preparations.     But,  at  that,  pn 
duction   and   consumption  were  very 
evenly  matched. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


131 


"Alas  and  alack!"  Harry  Freeman 
mourned,  as  he  sadly  shook  his  head 
at  a  plate  of  crisp,  brown,  oleaginous 
dainties  which  Mrs.  Knox  set  before 
him.  "  I  fear  we  have  all  found  that 
absolute  zero  which  Tommy  Wright 
told  us  about  in  chemistry." 

"Not  I,"  Satan  briefly  spoke  up  as 
he  reached  for  the  plate.  "  I've  just 
made  a  side  bet  with  Daniel  O'Connell 
that  I  can  eat  all  of  them  she  can  bring 
on." 

"  You  insatiable  fiend,  seeking  what 
you  may  devour,"  Chummv  sternly 
m  squoted.  "That  bet  is  declared  off. 
It's  positively  quixotic  for  reckless  dar- 
ing, and  would  he  sure  to  result  fatally. 
What  says  the  Committee?" 

Gabby  and  Harry  voted  aye,  and  the 
plate  was  torn  from  the  protesting 
grasp  of  Satan,  as  the  memorable  feast 
was  declared  ended. 

Mungo  sat  back  with  a  sigh,  and  the 
unctuousness,  fairly  exuding  from  his 
smile  and  even  from  his  voice,  gave  a 
qualitj'  almo.st  as  of  a  grace  or  a  bene- 
diction to  his  closing  words'  "Ony 
time  ye  hae  seemilar  proaposeetions 
tae  pit  afore  the  hoose,  ye  micht  just 
ca'  on  me." 


The  Man  Who  Used 
Commonsense 

Continued  from  page  105. 

western  lints  of  the  Canadian  Pacific 
for  the  last  year  of  his  active  service 
with  the  road.  It  included  the  con- 
struction of  380  miles  of  new  branch 
lines,  100  miles  of  double  track,  40 
miles  of  sidings,  enlargement  by  one- 
third  of  the  Winnipeg  shops,  laying 
of  85-pound  steel  rails  on  the  old 
M.  &  N.  W.  which  was  being  made  a 
part  of  the  main  line  to  Edmonton, 
establishment  of  rock-crushing  plants 
in  British  Columbia  and  rock-ballast- 
ing of  the  line  for  hundreds  of  miles, 
extensive  improvements  in  Vancouver 
to  accommodate  the  "Empress" 
[Steamers,  establishment  of  the  gravity 
system  at  Fort  William  for  distribution 
of  cars,  replacing  of  steel  bridges  now 
in  existence  with  heavier  ones  capable 
of  carrying  the  largest  locomotives, 
and  the  establishment  of  railway  yards 
at  Medicine  Hat,  Moose  Jaw  and 
Regina.  The  building  of  two  new 
steamers  for  Pacific  service  was  also 
announced.  All  of  which  indicates 
something  of  the  extent  of  the  .system 
over  which  Sir  William  was  ruler. 

Men  who  worked  beside  him  twenty 
years  ago  tell  many  stories  of  the 
practical  common-sense  that  he 
brought  to  l)ear  on  the  problems  of 
the  road  from  the  l)eginning  of  his 
service.  The  story  of  the  Edmonton 
oats  is  one  of  the  most  typical. 

In  his  first  general  superintendent 
days,  the  Canadian  Pacific  was  having 


BERRY  BROTHERS' 

LIQ.UID 
ORAMIITE 


Soap  and  Water  Won't  Hurt 
Liquid  Granite  Floors 


You  need  never  worry  about  your 
hardwood  floors  or  linoleums  if  they  are 
finished  with  Berry  Brothers'  Liquid 
Granite. 

Hard  usage  and  frequent  scrubbing 
won't  injure  this  celebrated  floor  varnish 
— even  boiling  water  has  no  harmful 
effect. 

Liquid  Granite  floors  have  a  tough, 
elastic  surface  that  withstands  severe 
wear,  and  retains  its  bright  glossy  ap- 
pearance. 


It's  easy  to  clean  such  floors,  for  dirt 
and  grease  can't  penetrate  Liquid  Gran- 
ite, and  the  surface  can  be  quickly 
washed  with  soap  and  water. 

When  varnishing  time  comes  this 
spring  think  of  Liquid  Granite.  Remem- 
ber, it's  a  high-grade  finish  that  won't 
turn  white  and  gives  lasting  satis- 
faction. 

See  your  dealer  or  write  us  direct  if 
you  want  any  advice  on  your  spring 
finishing. 


in  principal      T<ERRT     BROTHER^  Established 

cities  of  the      I  _f^    ,  ^  ,  ,^  a  o  n.  p  o  «.  ^  t  r.  .,  .               ^  ^  _ -_ 

world.        '■-World's  Lar^est\^rnish  Makers  V-r  i«*«- 

Walketville,  Ont. 


a  world  of  trouble  with  its  freight  cars 
engaged  in  carrying  oats.  There  was 
a  large  and  increasing  tonnage  of  grain 
to  be  hauled,  and  all  the  rolling  stock 
was  needed.  Yet  the  repair  shops 
were  in  constant  receipt  of  freight  cars 
which  came  limping  in  with  ruined 
journals,  brok'en  down  ajjparcntly  by 
overloading.  The  shops  swore  at  the 
yard-men,  and  the  division  super- 
intendent, with  his  desk  piled  up  with 
kicks  from  irate  farmers,  swore  at  the 
shops.  Yet  the  yard-men  accused, 
arose    in    righteous    indignation    and 


pointed  to  the  load-lines  that  showed 
unmistakably  above  the  grain  in  the 
cars. 

Now  a  load-line  is  a  mark  restricting 
the  capacity  of  a  car,  according  to  the 
weight  of  the  material  carried.  Figur- 
ing oats  at  thirty-four  pounds  to  the 
bushel,  which  up  to  that  time  was  the 
standard  weight  everywhere,  the  yard- 
men had  loaded  the  cars  exactly  to  the 
load-lines,  and  by  all  ordinary  laws, 
the  cars  were  O.K. 

In  the  course  of  time  the  trouble 
came  up  to  General  Superintendent  oi 


132 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


$1290 


■iiiiiiiiiiiiiihi: 


$1425  With  electric  starter  and  generator. 
Prices/.  0.  b.  Hamilton.  Ont. 


Costs   30%   Less 


THE  1914  Overland  is  a 
large,  magnificent,  five 
passenger  family  touring 
car — having  a  powerful  motor, 
a  long  wheel  base  and  large 
tires.  It  is  built  to  stand  with- 
out stress  or  strain  the  hard- 
est kind  of  work.  Mechanic- 
ally, the  chassis  is  as  sound  as 
that  found  in  the  most  ex- 
pensive cars  in  the  world. 
This  new  Overland  is  beauti- 
fully finished,  absolutely  dur- 
able, unusually  comfortable, 
and  comes  completely  equip- 
ped-— even  with  a  full  set  of  the 
most  up-to-date  electric  lights. 

Yet,  it  costs  30%  less  than 
any  other  similar  car  made. 

The  Overland  is  a  remark- 
able economical  car  on  both 


gasoline,  oil  and  tires.  This  is 
due  to  its  perfectly  mechanical 
balance.  It  never  wastes  a 
drop  of  gasoline  or  oil. 

Yet,  it  costs  30%  less  than 
any  other  similar  car  made. 

Check  up  its  specifications, 
the  length  of  its  wheel  base, 
the  size  of  its  tires,  the  horse- 
power of  its  motor,  the  com- 
pleteness of  its  fineequipment, 
its  roomy  tonneau  ;  in  fact, 
check  every  detail,  part  and 
piece  with  the  corresponding 
specifications  of  any  other  car 
in  its  price  class.  Then  com- 
pare the  costs  and  you  find — 

That  the  Overland  costs  you 
30%  less  than  any  other  similar 
car  made. 


The  motoring  season  was 
never  better.  Roads  are  open- 
ing up  in  every  direction. 
Nature  herself,  is  beckoning 
you  out  in  the  open.  All  out 
of  doors  is  coaxing  and  teasing 
vou  to  get  a  car. 

But\ 

Buy  with  discretion;  ex- 
amine carefully  this  the  sturd- 
iest of  cars  and  you  will  find 
it,  without  question  or  doubt, 
the  most  inexpensive  car  to 
buy,  and  the  most  economical 
car  to  operate. 

Remember  it  is  30%  under 
the  market. 

Your  order  placed  now 
means  a  prompt  delivery.  Do 
not  delay  another  day. 

Literature  on  request. 
Please  address  Dept.  3. 


The  Willys-Overland  of  Canada,  Limited, 

Hamilton,  Ont. 

Distributors  of  the  famous  Garford,  and  Willys-  Utilily  Trucks  and  Overland  Delivery  Wagons. 

Full  information  on  request. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


133 


the  Western  Division  William  Whyte. 
He  did  not  swear  at  anybody.  That 
wasn't  his  way.  He  listened  to  the 
end,  and  then  said  matter-of-factly. 

"Suppose  you  weigh  those  oats." 

The  division  superintendent  opened 
his  mouth  to  speak,  thought  better  of 
it,  and  sought  a  scale  with  a  bushel  of 
oats.  Thirty-four— thirty-six — thirty- 
eight — Those  western-grown  oats  took 
from  forty  to  forty-six  pounds  of  iron 
to  balance  them,  and  the  mystery  was 
solved.  William  Whyte  had  used 
plain,  sane  common-sense,  which  after 
all  is  about  as  uncommon  as  any  other 
quality  of  mankind;  and  in  three 
minutes  had  settled  a  difficulty  over 
which  the  whole  prairie  section  of  the 
line  had  boggled  for  weeks. 

Personality — the  quality  that  made 
men  love  him;  common-sense — the 
uncommon  variety;  administrative 
ability— the  sort  that  kept  the  wheels 
of  half-a-continent  of  line  moving 
smoothly  for  twenty-five  years;  a 
Scotch  conscience  and  an  untiring 
capacity  for  staying  untired — that  was 
Sir  William  Whyte.  When  Winnipeg 
gave  him  that  historic  dinner  in  1912 
he  stood  up  at  the  banquet  table  a 
tall,  straight,  white-haired,  active 
figure,  and  told  them  that  he  was 
finished  with  hard  work,  not  because 
he  was  tired,  but  because  he  felt  he 
had  earned  rest. 

'Tor  fifty  years  I  have  been  at 
work,"  he  said,  "and  it  is  time  that  I 
be  permitted  to  retire.  At  the  present 
time  I  cannot  even  go  out  to  the  golf 
links  without  feeling  that  I  am  steal- 
ing time  from  the  Canadian  Pacific." 

When  a  man  feels  like  that  after 
fifty  years  of  labor,  twenty-seven  of  it 
for  one  company,  it  is  easy  to  see  how 
he  rose  to  be  vice-president.  But  the 
reason  for  his  directorship  was  still 
deeper — ^and  it  was  not  until  you  saw 
the  look  in  the  eyes  of  Western  Can- 
adians when  they  spoke  of  Sir  William 
that  you  understood  what  the  cor- 
poration of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Rail- 
way understood  when  they  made  him  a 
director — for   sentimental    reasons. 

For  two  hours,  all  that  was  mortal  of 
Sir  William  Whyte  lay  in  state  at 
Knox  Church  in  Winnipeg,  the  city 
that  he  had  made  his  home  for  twenty- 
six  years.  In  those  two  hours,  five 
thousand  of  his  fellow-citizens  passed 
through  the  sacred  edifice  and  paused 
by  his  bier  to  look  with  the  eyes  of 
brothers  on  the  face  of  the  dead.  Rich 
and  poor  rubbed  elbows,  levelled  in  one 
great  common  grief. 

One  shabby  little  woman,  leading  a 
two-year-old  child,  approached  the 
chancel  with  faltering  steps.  When 
she  reached  the  coffin,  she  suddenly 
gave  expression  to  her  grief  in  violent 
weeping.  "He  was  the  best  friend  I 
ever  had,"  she  sobbed  brokenly,  as 
one  of  the  officers  in  attendance  gently 


Costly  Tires 

Which  Cost  You  Less  Than  Most  t  Others 

During  1913,  the  prices  on  Goodyear  No-Rim-Cut  tires  dropped 
23  per  cent. 

There  are  numerous  anti-skid  tires  for  which  you  are  now  asked 
to  pay  far  more — here  in  Canada  as  well  as  in  the  United  States.  So 
the  question  comes:     Is  any  tire  worth  more  than  Goodyears  ? 

THE  FACTS  ARE  THESE 

In  several  ways  No-Rim-Cut  tires  are  the  costliest  tires  that  are 
built.  They  are  so  costly  that,  when  our  output  was  smaller,  their 
price  was  one-fifth  higher  than  other  standard  tires. 


They  are  the  only  tires  which  are  final-cured  on  air  bigs  shaped 
like  inner  tubes.  This  is  done  to  save  the  countless  blow-outs  due 
to  wrinkled  fabric.  This  e.xtra  process  adds  to  our  tire  cost  im- 
mensely— an  extra  cost  which  no  other  maker  pays.  ' 

They  are  the  only  tires  in  which  hundreds  of  large  rubber  rivets 
are  formed  to  combat  tread  separation. 

They  are  the  only  tires  made  in  a  satisfactory  way  so  that  they 
can't  be  rim-cut. 

They  are  the  only  tires  which  carry  our  double-thick  AU-Weather 
Tread. 

THE  MILEAGE  LIMIT 

No-Rim-  Cut  tires,  on  the  average,  give  the  limit  of  possible 
mileage.  We  say  this  after  years  of  research  and  experiment,  which 
have  cost  us  $100,000  per  year. 

Goodyear  experts  in  these  years  have  made  thousands  of 
attempts  to  build  tires  that  give  more  mileage.  They  have  tested 
the  new  tires  against  the  old  in  every  way  they  know.  And  they  say 
that  Goodyear  tires  mark  to-day's  mileage  limit. 

WHERE  WE  SAVE 

We  save  by  mammoth  output,  by  efficiency  and  by  modest  pro- 
fits. It  is  thus  we  give  you  tires  like  these,  at  present  Goodyear 
prices. 

Men  have  bought,  in  the  past  two  years,  more  than  three  million 
of  them.  Bought  them  because  mileage  records  had  proved  them  the 
best  tires  built. 

It  is  easy  to  build  tires  worth  less  than  Goodyears,  but  men 
can't  build  a  tire  worth  more. 


QOOD^^EAR 


NO-RIMCUT  TIRES 

With  All- Weather  Treads  or  Smooth 


The   Goodyear  Tire  &  Rubber  Company  of  Canada,  Limited 

Head  Office.  TORONTO  raciory,  BOWMANVILLE 


134 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Two  hundred  fifty  thou- 
sand Fords  won't  supply  this 
year's  demand.  One  hundred 
eighty-five  thousand — 
and  more— didn't  last  year. 
More  than  four  hundred 
thousand  now  in  world-wide 
service.  Play  it  safe — and  buy 
your  Ford  today. 

Six  hundred  dollars  is  the  price  of  the  Ford  run- 
about ;  the  touring  car  is  six  fifty ;  the  town  car 
nine  hundred — f.  o.  b.  Ford,  Ont.,  complete  with 
equipment.  Get  catalog  and  particulars  from 
any  branch,  or  from  Ford  Motor  Co.,  Ltd.,  Ford, 
Ont.,' Canada. 


led  her  away,  "and  now  he's  gone. 
No  one  but  God  knows  what  he  has 
done  for  us." 

It  is  probable  that  never  in  Western 
Canada's  history  has  the  death  of  one 
man  been  so  universally  mourned. 
The  city  of  Winnipeg  was  silent  as 
the  funeral  train  passed  through  the 
streets.  The  busy  hum  of  traffic  was 
stilled.  Street  cars  shut  off  their 
power,  teams  stopped,  curtains  were 
drawn,  business  was  suspended.  On 
all  buildings  flags  at  half-mast  drooped 
listlessly.  The  hush  of  the  leading 
thoroughfares  at  one  of  the  busiest 
hours  of  the  day  was  impressive. 
There  could  not  have  been  a  greater 
demonstration  of  the  regret  felt  by  all 
classes  in  the  community.  Both  as  a 
personal  friend  and  as  a  public  servant, 
Sir  William  was  honored  and  loved — 
is  still  honored  and  loved,  and  will  be 
as  long  as  history  stands. 


Greta  Greer 

Continued  from  page  104. 

somewhere — usually  so  simple  a  one 
that  we  honest,  stupid  people  who 
marvel  at  their  cleverness,  wonder  how 
they  could  be  blind  enough  to  over- 
look troublesome  consequences,  and 
Maggie  was  no  exception  to  the  rule. 
Her  initial  blunder  was  made  when  she 
travelled  first  class  in  a  stateroom,  no 
matter  how  small,  all  to  herself.  School 
teachers  who  go  to  Germany  for  an 
accent,  are  not  usually  so  reckless  with 
funds.  Of  course  she  gave  me  an 
excuse  when  I  pumped  her,  but  it 
needed  crutches." 

The  machine  was  cleverly  arranged 
against  the  door,  so  that  either  directly 
or  through  the  mirror,  it  caught  every 
action  of  the  room's  occupant.  The 
first  picture  of  interest  showed  the 
girl  bending  eagerly  o^er  the  extra 
edition  of  the  Herald. 

"That  was  the  first  night  on  board," 
explained  Cunningham,  "so  the  next 
morning  when  she  did  not  go  into  any 
particulars  or  show  some  sign  of  know- 
ing anything  about  the  affair,  I  thought 
there  must  be  a  reason  for  such 
secretiveness,  and  began  to  take  notice. 
You  remember.  Dare,  how  the  sheet 
blew  in  her  face — well,  that  was  an 
accident — but  I  took  pains  to  straigh- 
ten it  out  so  that  both  she  and  Mrs. 
Threckmeyer  could  see  it  ?" 

"Perfectly.  And  that  explains  to 
me  now,"  answered  the  doctor,  "the 
reason  you  were  so  anxious  to  change 
the  subject  when  Mrs.  Threckmeyer 
asked  whether  or  not  you  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  case.  I  saw  you 
were  annoyed  and  did  not  understand 
why." 

The  next  picture  showed  Maggie 
Kelly  sorting  her  clothes,  and  pinching 
her  little  rosebuds  into   shape.     She 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


135 


The  Battle  Cry  Is  On! 

All  over  the  country  the  people  are  of  one  voice  in  the 
fight  for  ''Safety  First/' 

More  than  two  years  ago  we  were  telling  motorists  that 
Safety  was  the  First  Consideration  in  buying  tires.  We  knew 
then,  as  we  know  now,  that 

Dunlop  Traction  Tread 

is  the  one  tire  which  ensures  Safety  in  automobiling. 


DUNLO/) 


\> 


\^EAD 


66  Cubic 
Inches 
Larger 


*^'^^/.OFQU^^' 


.<^ 


Never 

Did 

Rim-Cut 


DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD  having  settled  the  point 
of  the  motorist's  Safety,  the  battle  cry  is  now  tending  to  the 
Safety  of  ''  the  man  on  the  street."  But  DUNLOP  TRAC- 
TION TREAD,  while  protecting  the  motorist  in  his  car,  also 
protects  the  pedestrian,  even  if  he  is  negligent  in  his  own 
regard,  because  perfect  control  of  the  car  means  perfect 
control  of  the  situation.  The  Master  Tire  is  always  master 
of  events. 


Pt«*M  ia«fitJoo  Canada  Moktblt  who  yoa  wrlu  U  adrmtUm. 


136 


Specify  "Blaisdell" 

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Blaisdell  202  is  the  world's  "master- 
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Peii'ilw  sliitMiiUy  iiiil'riiiti'il  fnr  ndvi-rtisiiij; 
purl»"»t'**- 


Said  by  alll  eadin  g  tricfriisiie 
Canadian  Stationers 


^/a/sdeu^ 


^  Pencil 
Company 


.C^ 


Mothersill's 
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_Motiey  Refinidfii. 
ally 


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Nnw  Y..rk,   I'lriB.  Milan,  HaiiilmrK.  ^^^^^^ 


IDWNI^DUR  DWN^»^ 
METAL  GARAGE!!' 

^Si^s\ 

^1 

PEDLAR'S               1 
METAL  GARAGES       1 

Fireproof,    secure — can   be       :  J 
set  up  in  a  day.     Co.st  you       y 
less  than  a  home-made  one.      I« 
Handsome,  portable.  Peslal     H 

It 

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11 

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brintts  particulars. 

Mention  Catalogue 

The  PEDLAR  PEOPLE,  L 

C.  A. 
td.,  Oshawa,  On 

t. 

CANADA  MONTHLY 

also  made  pads  for  her  corsets.  These 
as  well  as  the  rosettes,  rosebuds  and 
shirrings  on  her  wine  colored  poplin, 
were  stuffed  with  gems.  She  worked 
nimbly,  removing  the  stones  from 
their  settings  and  putting  them  in  a 
little  leather  bag.  Another  roll  showed 
her  ripping  the  trimming  from  a  hat, 
and  with  some  delicate  instruments 
(which  were  kept  in  a  manicure  box) 
extract  stones  from  several  bits  of 
jewelry  and  sew  them  in  the  flowers  of 
her  hat.  The  settings  were  added  to 
those  in  the  bag. 

There  was,  of  course,  a  picture  show- 
ing her  leaving  the  room  with  her 
chamois  skin  bag,  which  she  had  left 
in  Mrs.  Threckmeyer's  satchel. 

"I  felt  pretty  sure  she  was  going  to 
do  something  of  the  kind,"  said  Billy, 
"for  many  reasons.  One  particularly, 
because  she  'picked'  the  gems,  and  it 
naturally  followed  that  the  settings 
had  to  be  disposed  of.  Many  of  them 
were  very  cumljersome  when  it  came 
to  secreting  them.  They  were  put  in  a 
chamois  skin  bag  and  another  recept- 
acle which  you  will  see  later.  Miss 
Kelly  was  very  careful  to  find  out  all 
she  could  about  Mrs.  Threckmeyer  and 
Miss  Kelly's  powers  of  extracting 
information  are  not  limited.  She  also 
made  good  use  of  Clare — Mrs.  Threck- 
meyer's maid — discovering  through  her 
that  the  niece  of  whom  we  spoke—" 
"Miss  Catapani  ?"  Dare  interrupted. 
Billy  hesitated  a  fraction  of  a  second 
then  with  a  queer  Httle  smile  repeated 
the  doctor's  words. 

— "Miss  Catapani  was  a  member  of 
Mrs.  Beaufort's  household.  I  have 
ample  proof,"  he  continued,  "that 
Kelly's  first  impulse  was  to  hide  the 
jewels  in  Miss  Greer's  room,  and  in  not 
doing  so,  she  made  another  blunder. 
I  speak  professionally,  you  understand. 
After  the  morning  on  deck  when  the 
poor  dear  lost  her  head  so  completely, 
our  brilliant  Maggie  who  never  had 
dreamed  of  help  from  that  source 
planned  to  make  use  of  her.  She  did 
this  in  many  subtle  ways,  about  which 
no  one  was  the  wiser,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  your  humble  servant.  Can 
you  connect  these  photos,"  he  went 
on  speaking  rather  more  to  Dare  than 
the  other  man,  "can  you  connect  them 
with  the  girl  you  were  watching  out 
of  the  corner  of  'your  eye  that  first 
morning  on  board  ?" 

In  all  of  her  movements  she  was 
quick  and  nimble,  it  was  her  occasional 
attitude  of  repose  which  suggested 
stealth.  The  opening  of  a  door  was 
sudden — but  the  standing  on  the 
threshold  was  cat-like  cunning. 

Perhaps  the  picture  which  inter- 
ested Dare  most  was  of  Billy  himself, 
creeping  into  Maggie  Kelly's  room  and 
pouring  the  settings  from  her  leather 
bag  (which  was  hidden  in  the  sleeve 
of  her  storm  coat,)  into  one  apparently 
identical,  which  he  brought  with  him. 


7*116  Csneral 
says:' 

Be    sure     you're    Certain-teed— 

then  go  ahead. 

Roof  every  bulldin?  on  your 
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Certain-teed 

ROOFING 

This  15-year-guarantee  label  Is 
on  every  roll  or  crate — and  the 

three  blfsrest  roofinfr  mills  in  the  world 
back  up  the  (rnarantee. 
No  rooting  "tott"  proves  anything. 
This  label  Is  your  lusurauuo. 

Your  dealer  can  furnish  Certain-tted 
Roo6ngin  rolls  and  shltifrlcn— made  by 
the  General  Kooting  Mfsr.  Co..  unrUts 
lar(fegt  rii'tfiyiy'j  manufacturers.  Kast  St. 
Tx>uis.  111.,  Marseilles,  Jll.,  York,  Pa. 


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After  making  the  changje,  he  waved  the 
empty  bag  and  put  it  into  his  pocket, 
then  airily  kissed  his  hand  to  the 
machine  and  disappeared. 

Dare  puzzled  a  long  time  over  this 
and  finally  turned  to  Billy  with  a 
question  on  his  lips. 

"As  I  told  you,"  Cunningham  ex- 
plained, "she  had  made  up  her  mind 
to  get  rid  of  the  gold,  as  well  as  the 
least  expensive  of  the  stones,  and  after 
putting  all  she  thought  wise,  in  the 
chamois  bag,  she  decided  to  throw  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


137 


rest  over  board.  I  deduced  this  by 
methods  which  would  have  done 
Holmes  credit  and  by  such  tiny  actions 
that  you  would  be  bored  if  I  told  you 
of  them.  This  idea  of  throwing  the 
gold  overboard  was,  I  am  fairly  sure, 
not  her  intention  before  leaving,  for 
she  was  not  prepared  with  convenient 
'properties.'  See,"  said  Billy  turning 
to  his  trunk,  "there  were  a  great  many 
pieces  in  the  collection  such  as  this — " 
He  held  up  an  exquisite  dog  collar 
made  of  filigree  bars  and  studded  with 
small  stones.  "What  could  she  do  with 
all  that  when  the  passengers  were 
examined  on  the  other  side  ?  I 
imagine  she  fancied  herself  very  clever 
when  she  decided  to  divide  the  'swag,' 
putting  just  enough  in  Mrs.  Threck- 
meyer's  satchel  to  cast  suspicion  on 
— er — her  or  someone  else.  Do  you 
see  her  line  of  reasoning  ?  She  did  not 
put  merely  the  'picked'  gold  in  the  bag, 
she  put  some  of  each  kind  so  that  it 
might  easily  look  as  though  the  other 
stones  were  hidden.  Also,  she  left  no 
loop  hole  through  which  an  explana- 
tion might  be  made  when  detectives 
questioned  the  victim.  Mrs.  Threck- 
meyer  could  only  say  she  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  jewels  nor  how  they  got 
there  and  tell  the  other  story." 

Cunningham  busied  himself  with 
the  films  a  moment.  "I  could  not 
understand  just  why  she  did  not 
persevere  in  her  effort  to  put  them  in 
Miss  Greer's  room,  but  the  reason  was 
this — she  simply  could  not  get  in  Miss 
Greer's  room  to  hide  them — there  were 
several  people  watching  it  for  reasons 
of  their  own.  The  stewardess  for  one, 
the  two  gentlemen  at  your  table,  Ellis, 
and  others.  I,  myself,  caught  her 
making  two  or  three  attempts  and  I 
had  Hobson  or  the  other  one  hang 
round  the  door  without,  of  course, 
giving  the  the  correct  reason  for  their 
convenient  espionage.  This  prevented 
Miss  Kelly  from  carrying  out  her 
plans." 

"And  what  about  the  stuff  she  threw 
overboard  ?"  asked  Myles. 

"I'm  coming  to  that.  She  had  this 
chamois  bag  with  her  and  only  one 
other  thing  suitable  for  her  purpose, 
here,  it  is — a  collar  box — fortunately 
just  the  ordinary,  common,  garden 
variety  of  collar  box  with  a  soft  leather 
top  and  a  stiff  bottom.  I  hadn't  one 
myself,  but  my  friend  the  Marconi  man 
had.  I  stained  it  the  same  color,  lined 
it  with  cork  and  made  the  exchange. 
She  only  finished  'picking'  yesterday  or 
perhaps  late  the  night  before,  and  last 
night  was  the  only  one  left  before  land- 
ing. So  you  see  it  looked  like  a  safe 
gamble  that  the  deed  would  have  to  be 
accomplished  then." 

He  stopped  and  chuckled.  "It  was 
the  real  excitement  of  the  case — that 
last  watching  of  her  !  We  walked  and 
talked  after  dinner,  then  when  she  left 


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t»iwn  Tanglefoot  slowly.  In  roo\ 
M-.'atlii'r  Mdim  slik'liily.  For 
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CATERING  TO  CANADIANS 

The  names  of  Canadians  visiting  this  hotel  are  immediately  communi- 
cated to  the  general  manager,  who  personally  arranges  for  their  comfort 
and  accommodation.  The  "Old  Country"  atmosphere  of  hospitality  is 
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HOTEL  MARTINIQUE 

BROADWAY  AND  32ND  STREET 

CHARLES  LEIGH  TAYLOR,  President  WALTER  S.  GILSON,  Vice-President 

WALTER  CHANDLER.  JR.,  Manager 

You  can  secure  a  pleasant  room  and  bath  for  $2.50  per  day.  Our  $1.50 
table  d'hote  dinner,  served  in  the  Louis  XV.  room,  is  regarded  as  the  best 
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SHAUGHNESSY  BUILDING, 


MONTREAL 


me  I  paraded  up  and  down  the  corridor 
outside  her  door  talking  to  Judson  who, 
by  the  way  has  grave  d(jubts  as  to  my 
sanity.  When  he  absolutely  refused 
to  be  kept  up  any  longer,  I  sent  the 
stewardess  upon  one  pretext  or  another 
to  her  room  until  I  knew  she  must  be 
as  nervous  as  a  novice  at  the  business. 
A  little  after  two  she  left  her  room — 
here  is  the  picture — and  this  one  shows 
her  return  with  a  Thank-God-it  -is-all- 
over  expression.  Had  she  foreseen  the 
necessity  for  this  wholesale  scatterine 


of  jewels,  I  suppose  she  would  have 
made  another  mistake  and  taken  an 
outside  stateroom,  for  she  had  to 
carry  the  box  in  her  kimono  sleeve  to 
the  deck  doorway." 

"Were  you  waiting  ?"  asked  the 
captain. 

"Sat  on  my  haunches  like  faithful 
Fido,"  Billy  assured  him,  "and  watched. 
I  gave  my  signal  to  Hawkes,  the  officer 
— who  is  no  end  of  a  good  fellow, 
captain — took  my  little  plunge  and  had 
the   extreme   satisfaction   of  knowing 


138 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Model  D59 

pASHION-CRAFT 
*  Tailoring  shows  at 
its  best  in  this  Spring 
Model  Suit— D59. 

Maximum  style  plus 
maximum  service 
were  in  the  designer's 
mind  when  he  con- 
ceived and  perfected 
it! 

A  great  favorite  with 
men  to  whom  quiet 
style  and  inconspi- 
cuousness  are  prefer- 
able for  business 
hours. 

Better  tell  the  sales- 
man "D59"  and  judge 
for  yourself!  It's  price 
is  $18  to  $35  accord- 
ing to  the  quality  of 
material   you   select. 


SHOPS  OF 


IN  EVERY  IMPORTANT  TOWN  AND  CITY 
IN  CANADA 


HOTEL  GRISWOLD 

POSTAL  HOTEL  COMPANY,  Proprietors 

Griswold  Street  and  Grand  River  Ave. 

EUROPEAN  PLAN 

Rates  -  $1.50  per  day  and  up. 

DETROIT      -      MICH. 


FRED  POSTAL, 

Pieiidtnt. 


CHAS.  L.  POSTAL, 

Stcftmy. 


that  the  engines  were  stopping  just  as 
I  reached  the  leather  box  which  floated 
most  obHgingly.  To  prevent  Judson 
from  being  suspicious  I  had  to  keep 
my  clothes  on,  and  had  no  opportunity 
for  doing  more  than  throw  off  my 
shoes  and  coat."  He  laughed,  "I 
think  I  prefer  the  ordinary  bathing 
suit." 

"How  did  the  woman  get  them  in 
the  first  place  ?"  asked  Dare,  hardly 
able  to  believe  his  ears. 

"Applied  as  maid  some  time  ago — 
as  soon  as  the  theatricals  were  decided 
upon.  I  understand  that  Miss  Greer 
wrote  a  note  telling  Mrs.  Beaufort  the 
combination  of  the  safe  in  her  room. 
It  was  quite  unnecessary,  for  Miss 
Kelly  had  already  rifled  it. 

"  She  looked  a  different  person  in  the 
uniform  of  an  upper  housemaid  and 
wearing  a  red  wig,  spectacles  and  about 
forty  pounds  of  padding.  She  was 
then  called  Hattie." 

"Where  is  she  now  ?" 

"In  her  crbin,  Ellis,  my  boy,  with 
a  stylish  paii  of  bracelets  on.  I  must 
say  she  took  to  them  quite  kindly;  it 
may  not  be  the  first  time  she  has  worn 
them  !" 

He  had  been  dressing  for  the  last 
fifteen  minutes  and  now  seemed  intent 
upon  the  fastidious  choice  of  a  tie. 

"I  deeply  regret—"  he  spoke  to  his 
own  image  in  the  mirror — "I  deeply  re- 
gret that  it  became  necessary  to  spy 
upon  Miss  Greer — and  by  so  doing  to 
learn  things  which — er — :-he  wished  to 
hide.  I  now  feel  that  as  lon^-  as  she 
has  no  idea  the  machine  was  in  her 
room  it  is  rather  a  useless  thing  to  tell 
her,  for,  it  goes  without  saying — " 
here  Billy  turned  and  faced  them 
squarely,  "  that  iwhatever  I  discover 
in  my  work  remains  a  secret  except 
that  which  bearing  upon  the  especial 
case,  must  be  brought  to  light.  I  hope 
you  men  understand." 

"Of  course  we  do!"  answered  Dare, 
cordially,  "of  course  !  I  think  you  are 
a  wonder,  Billy,  and  as  for  Miss  Greer 
— well,  there  will  be  no  more  need  for 
secrecy  in  a  few  months — she  will  be 
entirely  cured." 

Billy  did  not  give  any  evidence  that 
he  saw  it  was  to  Myles  rather  than 
himself  that  Dare  spoke.  It  was  part 
of  Billy  Cunningham's  business  and 
one  reason  for  his  success  that  he  saw 
only  such  things  as  he  could  use  upon 
his  cases  ! 

The  captain  looked  up  quickly.  "I 
am  very  glad,"  he  said. 

"And  now,"  Cunningham  gathered 
up  the  rolls,  "I  must  ask  you  to  excuse 
me.  I  want  to  confer  with  my  col- 
league, the  Marconi  man,  before  we 
land.  I  shall  have  to  spend  about  two 
days  in  the  cable  office,  I  suppose"  he 
sighed. 

"But     Cunningham,"     cried     Dare, 
Continued  on  page  loo. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


139 


The  Weight  of  a 
New  Broom 

Continued  from  page  95. 

work  in  beautifying  vacant  lots  and  in 
encouraging  owners  of  vacant  property 
to  do  the  same. 

Formerly  these  lots  were  chaotic 
wastes  covered  with  tin  cans  and  other 
evidences  of  satisfied  human  wants. 
Now,  in  the  summer  time,  these  waste 
places  blossom  forth  with  every  kind 
of  flowering  plant  and  leafy  shrub. 
Instead  of  the  tin  can,  the  old  boot  and 
the  brick-bat,  have  come  up  the  snap- 
dragon, the  daisy,  the  aster,  the  sweet 
pea,  the  marigold,  the  stock,  the  sun- 
flower and  the  burning  bush.  Instead 
of  accumulations  of  filth,  happy  pro- 
ducing-grounds  of  noxious  weeds  and 
noxious  insects,  vexing  the  eye  and  the 
temper  of  the  tired  and  footsore  citizen, 
sm'ling  and  gaily-colored  oases  have 
offered  mental  rest,  inspiration  and 
encouragement. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  direct  connection 
between  Winnipeg's  famous  Assini- 
t)oine  Park  and  the  Housing  and  Town 
Planning  Association,  but  certainly 
the  spirit  of  f)oth  is  the  same.  There 
is  probably  no  more  beautiful  pleasance 
on  the  American  Continent  than  Assini- 
boine  Park.  To  many  a  visitor  it  has 
suggested  the  royal  gardens  of  Euro- 
pean capitals.  The  city  fathers  of 
Winnipeg  must  have  been  truly 
inspired,  when,  some  ten  years  ago, 
they  secureil  to  the  people  of  Winnipeg 
for  all  time  these  three  hundred  acres 
of  naturally  beautiful  land  on  the  bank 
of  the  Assiniboine  River  about  five 
miles  west  of  Winnipeg. 

Into  the  natural  beauty  of  the  Park 
have  been  worked  exquisite  beds  of 
flowering  and  ornamental  plants, 
grasses  and  shrubs.  Beautiful  walks 
and  spacious  driveways  have  been  laid 
out,  as  well  as  a  motor  speedway.  A 
ilo/en  or  more  cricket  pitches  are 
dotted  every  Saturday  afternoon  with 
llaiinel-rlad  figures,  while  tennis-courts 
and  baseball  grounds  are  also  kept  per- 
manently in  order.  The  Park  boasts 
a  gofxl  collection  of  wild  animals,  to 
^a\  nothing  of  fountains,  lakes,  rustic 
l>ri(lges  and  an  Italian  garden. 

So  shall  you,  then,  speak  of  Winni- 
pt-g.  Much  prejudiced,  much  done 
that  should  not  have  been  done  !  But 
the  day  of  ruthless  disregard  well  over; 
the  day  of  roughshod  riding  over  the 
\  ital  needs  of  the  citizens  well  pas.scd  ! 
The  day  of  carelessness  and  indifTer- 
iice  gone  and  the  day  of  sane,  health- 
lul  growth  initiated  !  The  material- 
istic spirit  has  n(jt  been  able  to  stifle 
and  discourage  a  small  band  of  splendid 
idealists,  of  wholesome  cranks,  who 
have  proclaimed  war  on  ugliness,  both 


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Convenient  trains  with  electric-lighted  sleeping  cars  from  Port 
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Finely  Appointed  Dining  Cars  on  All  Trains 

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[Lc 


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141 


physical  and  spiritual,  and  whose  motto 
is  "The  City  Beautiful." 

Winnipeg's  example  will  stimulate 
the  incipient  idealism  of  other  prairie 
cities  and  towns.  Indeed  the  same 
leaven  is  at  work  all  over  the  Canadian 
West.  The  challenge  has  been  thrown 
out  to  selfishness,  irresponsibility  and 
greed,  a  challenge  which  declares  that 
the  prairie  cities  shall  not  be  places  of 
sheltered  ease  and  exclusive  culture, 
but  places  where  mental  satisfactions, 
the  arts  and  the  sciences,  shall  be 
brought  down  to  the  common  people 
and  interwoven  with  the  daily  life  of 
the  humblest  citizen. 


On  the  Wings  of  the 
Swallow 

Continued  from  page  99. 

security  and  the  weary,  yawning  green- 
keepers  relaxed  their  vigil  unwittingly. 

On  Saturday  and  Sunday  mornings 
an  entirely  different  region  was  at- 
tacked. However,  news  came  which 
solved  the  mystery  of  the  nature  of  the 
enemy  with  which  all  true  upholders 
of  the  faith  had  to  deal.  An  early 
riser  had  seen  an  aviator  skimming  the 
course  in  a  light  monoplane  and  drop- 
ping a  small  pill  of  dynamite  as  he 
passed  over  each  green.  The  observer 
was  not  near  enough  to  make  out  to  a 
certainty,  but  judged  that  the  fiend 
was  masked.  At  all  events,  he  was  a 
man  of  slim  and  youthful  figure. 

"It  is  time  for  universal  measures," 
said  the  president  of  the  Golf  Associa- 
tion, calling  for  subscriptions.  The 
response  was  as  generous  as  that  of  the 
French  peasants  who  went  into  their 
stockings  and  cupboards  for  treasure 
to'meet  the  Prussian  indemnity.  Golf- 
phobes  did  not  hesitate  to  let  their 
landlords  wait  for  rent  and  their 
children  for  shoes  in  order  to  provide 
a  fund  for  general  defense. 

Everywhere  the  cry  of  the  members 
of  the  ruined  courses  was  "Rebuild  ! 
Rebuild  !"  with  all  the  fervor  of 
Regina  after  the  cyclone.  This 
proved,  said  the  Golf  Journal,  that 
the  stubljorn  spirit  of  our  forefathers 
still  dwelt  in  our  veins.  Twenty 
aviators,  with  orders  "to  capture  or 
destroy,"  were  to  be  stationed  at  the 
prominent  unharmed  courses. 

Danbury  Rodd  gave  two  of  his 
machines  free  for  the  service — not  the 
fastest  type,  however — and  expressed 
his  regret  that  a  rush  of  business  would 
not  permit  him  to  join  in  the  chase 
himself.  Still,  Friday  afternoon  did 
not  find  him  at  his  office,  but  at  the 
central  station  with  Falcon  No.  4, 
which  had  only  one  counterpart  in 
lightness  and  endurance  and  only  one 
equal  in  speed,  so  far  as  Rodd  knew — 
and  that  was  the  Swallow  in    which 


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A  COOL,  summer  cruise  through  a  land 
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Niagara  Falls — Toronto — Lake  Ontario 
— that  wonderland,  the  Thousand  Islands — 
the  thrilling  passage  down  the  Rapids  of  the 
St.  Lawrence — Montreal — Quebec-M  urray 
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Hanover  Ontario 


142 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


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following  year 


Highland  Inn,  Algonquin  Park 

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For  advertising  matter  and  all  particulars  apply  to  any  agent  of  the  System, 
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Passenger  Traffic  Manager, 

MONTREAL. 


H.  G.  ELLIOTT, 

General  Passenger  Agent, 

MONTREAL. 


Tim  had  risen  on  his  way  to  Bermuda. 
Rodd  was  unusually  motxly  -and  dis- 
trait for  him.  He  paced  hack  and 
forth;  he  pottered  o\er  all  kinds  of 
details  which  he  generally  left  to  the 
mechanics.  But,  then,  he  had  been 
that  way  ever  since  the  ravages  began. 

"It's  a  bad  business,  a  bad  business 
for  a\iation  !"  he  kept  repeating.  "A 
man  like  that  out  of  hand — turned 
devil  !  No  matter  who  he  is,  we  must 
get  him,  dead  or  alive — dead  or  alive  !" 
he  concluded,  with  a  wrench  as  of 
hidden  agony. 

"And  yet  you  will  not  try  yourself, 
when  you  are  the  one  man  who  could 
run  him  down,"  said  Denman,  his 
oldest  assistant. 

"I  haven't  said  I  wouldn't,"  answer- 
ed Rodd,  with  one  of  his  quizzical 
glances  through  the  eyebrows,  indicat- 
ing plans  which  should  be  secret  until 
he  had  tried  them  out.  •   • 

Mr.  Hutchins,  the  philanthropist, 
had  given  the  sod  out  of  his  noble 
lawn — it  was  like  taking  flesh  out  of 
his  side — for  the  repair  of  the  Sher- 
brooke  greens;  and  Rodd  reasoned 
that  if  the  destroyer  ever  read  the 
newspapers  he  had  heard  of  this  deed 
of  sacrifice  which  was  heralded  far 
and  wide,  and  would  have  his  answ-er 
ready.  Meanwhile,  the  Sherbrooke 
greens  committee  acted  on  a  different 
opinion.  Thinking  that  lightning  and 
a  maniac  would  never  strike  twice  in 
the  same  place,  they  had  put  no  night 
guard  over  those  nicely  tapped,  level 
surfaces  which  aw^aited  the  puts  of 
Saturday  morning. 

Rodd  slept  at  the  aero-station  that 
night  and  shortly  before  three  he  threw 
open  the  shed  and  ran  out  his  Falcon, 
tuned  to  perfect  readiness,  and  then 
w-ent  to  the  sixth  green  to  wait  and  see 
if  his  theory  was  right.  He  had  with 
him  a  pillowcase  tied  to  a  bamboo 
fishing-rod.  With  the  first  break  of 
light  he  scanned  the  heavens  impati- 
ently. Gradually  the  horizon  cleared 
and  afar  in  the  misty  blue  he  saw  an 
approaching  plane.  As  it  came  nearer 
he  recognized  the  familiar  outlines  of 
his  final  triumpli  in  building,  and  he 
knew  definitely  that  Tim  Rainey  was 
not  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

The  Swallow  dipped  toward  the  club- 
house, which  was  hidden  by  a  row  of 
big  willows,  separating  the  fifth  hole 
from  the  tee  of  the  sixth.  One — two — 
three — four — five  !  came  a  series  of 
low  explosions,  hyphenated  l^y  the 
wricked  hum  of  the  Gnome-Rodd  motor, 
and  then,  sweeping  over  the  tops  of 
the  willows  toward  the  long  expanse  of 
fairway,  came  a  spread  of  still  wings 
with  the  swiftness  of  a  searchlight's 
swinging  rays.  Rodd  sprang  in  front 
of  the  green  and  waved  his  flag  of  truce. 
He  heard  the  motor  stop  as  Tim  took 
the  first  bunker  and  hoped  that  he 
had  gained  the  parley  which  he  wanted 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


143 


— a  parley  in  which  he  could  unhorse 
Tim  from  his  aerial  steed  and  save 
him  from  himself  and  the  law. 

"He  may  be  simply  pausing  to 
gratify  his  curiosity,  or  he  may  even 
choose  to  knock  my  head  ofT,"  Rodd 
thought  in  that  pregnant  tenth  of  a 
second  as  the  Swallow  soared  under 
her  headway.  Then  her  wheels  laid 
their  track  over  the  dew  and  she  came 
to  a  standstill  within  a  short  pitch  of 
the  green. 

Tim  lifted  his  mask  with  a  triumjjh- 
ant  grin,  stretching  all  the  springy 
muscles  of  his  agile  frame  in  a  fashion 
peculiar  to  him  whenever  he  came  in 
from  a  run.  He  was  looking  unusually 
well  and  Cjuite  natural  in  every  respect, 
except  for  his  eyes.  They  were  not 
wild  now,  but  twinkled  with  the  mad- 
ness of  his  strange  conceit. 

"My  wonder-child  !"  thought  Rodd, 
in  unrestrained  admiration.  "My 
pupil  whom  I  fashioned  after  my  own 
(jatteni  !  They  will  never  know  who 
was  guilty  of  all  this  folly  if  you  will 
(jnly  let  me  get  near  enough." 

"Mr.  Danbury  Rodd,  isn't  it  ?" 
inquired  Tim  jauntily.  "Seems  to  me 
I've  seen  your  pictures  in  the  papers 
as  a  well-known  aviator.  Does  your 
flag  mean  that  the  Sherbrooke  golf 
course  surrenders  ?  There,  there  ! 
I'm  watching  you  !"  He  tapped  the 
holster  of  the  revolver  at  his  belt  sug- 
gestively. "Not  a  step  farther,  if  you 
please,  or  we  can't  have  any  talk  at 
all." 

"Rodd  saw  that  the  Swallow  was 
in  gwxl  condition.  It  could  not  have 
been  better  if  it  had  just  left  the  tender 
care  of  his  shops.  Somewhere  Tim 
must  have  fitted  up  a  concealed  repair 
station  of  his  own,  for  he  could  not 
have  stopped  at  any  well-known  sta- 
tion for  overhauling  without  having 
been  recognized. 

"Tim  !  Tim  !"  Rodd  pleaded 
s<jothingly.  "Can't  you  see  that  I  am 
trying  to  save  you  ?  Think  what  you 
were  and  are  and  Umk  over  there — the 
landing  station  !  Don't  you  remem- 
lier  when  vou  came  back  from  Labra- 
dor ?" 

"Before  we  discuss  Labrador,  just 
move  your  foot  back  where  it  was  !" 
And  the  revolver  barrel  slijiping  out  of 
the  holster  had  the  same  steely  twinkle 
as  Tim's  eyes.  "That's  better.  Thank 
you.  Now  tell  me,  has  the  Golf 
Association  struck  a  special  medal  for 
me  yet  ?" 

"Not  that  I've  heard  of." 
"Amateur  jealousy,"  rejoined  Tim, 
pursing  out  his  lips  contemptuously. 
"Well,  I  liold  the  record.  I'm  the  only 
man  that  ever  holed  out  in  eighteen. 
Not  only  that,  but  I  outed  the  holes," 
"Mad  !  mad  !  Madder  than  a 
March  hare  wearing  the  Mad  Hatter's 
hat  !  Cunningly,  shrewdly,  supcr- 
humanly    mad,    with    every    faculty 


OVER  THE  ROOF  OF  NORTH  AMERICA  via  the 

CANADIAN  PACIFIC 

The  CANADIAN  ROCKIES 

Five  Hundred  Miles  of  unparalleled  scenery.        Two  Thousand  peaks  to  climb. 
Ponies  and  Guides  for  the  Mountain  trails.  Excellent  Hotels. 

Golf,  Tennis,  Swimming,  Fishing  and  other  forms  of  outdoor  sport 
amid  surroundings  unequalled. 

BANFF  LAKE  LOUISE  FIELD 

GLACIER  BALFOUR 

Are  resorts  nestling  amongst  the  glittering  snow  capped  peaks  where  the  Canadian 
Pacific  operate  luxurious  hotels,  conveniently  located  in  the  heart  of  the  most 
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Get  "Resorts  in  the  Canadian  Rockies"  from  any  Canadian  Pacific  Agent 
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C.  E.  E.  USSHER,  Passenger  Traffic  Manager,  Canadian  Pacific  Railway, 

MONTREAL,  QUE. 


HOTEL     LENOX 

North  St.  at  Delaware  Ave., 

BUFFALO,    N.  Y. 

Most  beautiful  location  for  a  city  hotel  in 
America.  Away  from  the  dust  and  noise. 
Modern  and  fireproof. 

EUROPEAN     PLAN. 

Write  for  rates,  also  complimentary  "Guide 
of  Buffalo  and  Niagara  Falls." 

C.  A.  MINER,  Manailer. 


144 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


ATLANTIC 
ROYALS 


From  BRISTOL. 


NEXT  SAILINGS 
From  MONTREAL  and  QUEBEC 

Steamer. 

ROYAL  GEORGE   Wed.,  June  17,  1914 

Tues.,  June  16, 1914 ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  July     1, 


Tues.,  June  30, 
Tues.,  July  14, 
Tues.,  July  28, 
Tues.,  Aug.  11, 
Tues.,  Aug.  25, 


ROYAL  GEORGE   Wed.,  July  15, 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  July  29, 

ROYAL  GEORGE   Wed.,  Aug.  12, 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  Aug.  26, 

ROYAL  GEORGE    Wed.,  Sept.   9, 


Before  Booking  by  another  Line 

GET  AT  THESE  FACTS^ 

SAFETY  ?        ACCOMMODATION  ? 
SERVICE?        CUISINE? 


i 


Our  Representative  will  be  glad  to  discuss  them 
personally  or  by  letter  addressed  to 

52  King  Street,  East,  Toronto,  Ont. 

593  Main  Street,  Winnipeg,  Man. 

228  St.  James  Street,  Montreal,  Que. 

123  Hollis  Street,  Halifax,  N.  S. 

CANADIAN  NORTHERN  STEAMSHIPS,  Limited 


strengthened  for  the  execution  of  the 
mischief  he  has  in  mind  !"  thought 
Rodd,  exasperated  by  the  conscious- 
ness that  he  was  being  watched  as  a 
mouse  by  a  cat. 

"Have  the  Bishops  passed  a  resolu- 
tion of  congratulation  yet  ?"  Tim 
continued. 

"Not  that  I  have  heard  of,"  Rodd 
assented. 

"What  ingratitude  !"  said  Tim. 
"What  inconsistency,  after  all  the 
complaints  of  the  clergy  of  the  effects 
of  golf  on  church  going  !  However,  it 
was  always  so.  No  reformer  ever  was 
appreciated  in  his  own  time.  He  must 
fight  alone  at  first,  and  I  have  the 
advantage  over  Peter  the  Hermit,  who 
had  to  walk.  If  no  one  sees  the  danger 
that  lurks  in  this  game — its  demoraliza- 
tion to  the  mind,  its  economic  waste 
— I  do,  and  I  will  act.  Man  is  a 
dignified  animal.  When  he  loses  his 
dignity  he  lapses  from  civilization. 
Do  you  see  nothing  junglish,  no  rever- 
sion to  type,  about  an  elderly  judge 
getting  down  on  all  fours  to  watch  a 
little  white  ball  roll  into  a  hole  ?" 

"And  you  are  going  to  keep  this 
up  ?"  Rodd  asked. 

"Until  I  destroy  the  game.  Then  I 
shall  begin  on  another  reform.  I  will 
do  something  for  art.  Think  of  a  pill 
on  the  head  of  some  of  our  scare- 
crow statues  and  other  eyesores  ! 
Think" — he  was  so  cheerful  about  his 
mission,  so  avowedly  pleased  with  him- 
self— "think  of  a  good-sized  one  on  a 
twinkle-twinkle  sign  tower  !  Can't 
you  hear  all  the  broken  electric  bulbs 
in  a  jingling  snow-storm  as  they  fall  to 
the  pavement  !  While  I  don't  want 
to  take  human  life,  just  a  little  one 
that  would  scatter  the  plaster  in  a 
convention  of  those  grafting  politicians 
would  make  them  think  there  was  a 
Jehovah  on  high,  after  all,  and" — he 
stopped,  with  a  glance  which  was  a 
mixture  of  recognition  and  inquiry 
pjist  Rodd's  shoulder. 

"A  lady  wishes  to  speak  to  you,"  he 
added  in  a  careless  tone. 

"Rodd  heard  a  soft  step  and  turned 
to  see  Eunice  Walker,  bareheaded, 
ghostly,  mindless  of  his  own  presence. 
She,  too,  had  instinctively  understood 
the  workings  of  Tim's  mind.  She, 
too,  had  guessed  that  he  would  return 
to  the  scene  of  his  first  activity  that 
morning. 

"Surely  you  remember  me,  Tim," 
she  said,  and  her  smile  of  greeting  lay 
under  the  shadow  of  the  distraction  of 
her  appeal. 

But  to  Tim,  regarding  her  blankly, 
she  might  have  been  any  girl  in  the 
world  whom  he  had  never  met  be- 
fore. 

"You  will  excuse  me,"  he  said 
politely,  "I  must  be  bringing  home  a 
lesson  to  an  individual  guilty  of  a  most 
corrupting  example.     I  must  finish  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


146 


Get  Your 
Canadian  Home 


from  the 


Canadian  Pacific 


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I 


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iCasaaa  MawnKTi 


146 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


YOU  CAN  SLEEP  LATER 

And  still  breakfast  on  time  by  using  a 

New  Pcr/Sction. 


«VICK    BLUE    F1,AME 


Oil  C6ok-5tove 

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want,  when  you  want  it.  Lessens  the  labor  in  the  kitchen. 
1,  2,  3  and  4  burner  sizes,  and  a  new  stove  with  Fireless 
Cooking  Oven.     All  hardware  and  general  stores. 

Use  Royalite  Oil  for  Best  Results 


THE  IMPERIAL  OIL  CO.,  Umited 

Toronto         Montreal         Winnipeg         Vanconver 
Quebec  Calgary 


THE 


Canadian  Bank  of   Commerce 


HEAD  OFFICE 

CAPITAL  $15,000,000 


TORONTO 

REST  $13,500,000 


SIR  EDMUND  WALKER.  C.V.O..  LL.D..  D.C.L..  President 


ALEXANDER  LAIRD 

General  Manager 


JOHN  AIRD 

Assistant  General  Manager 


V.  C.  BROWN.  Superintendent  of  Central  Western  Branches 


BRANCHES    THROUGHOUT    CANADA.    AND    IN    LONDON.    ENGLAND: 
NEWFOUNDLAND.  THE  UNITED  STATES'AND  MEXICO. 


ST.    JOHN'S 


SAVINGS   BANK   DEPARTMENT 

Interest  at  the  current  rate  is  allowed  on  all  deposits  of  $L00  and 
upwards.  Small  acxounts  are  welcomed.  Accounts  may  be  opened  in 
the  names  of  two  or  more  persons,  withdrawals  to  be  made  by  any  one  of 
the  number. 

Accounts  can  be  opened  and  operated  by  mail  as  easily  as  by  a 
personal  visit  to  the  Bank. 


pulverization    of     the     i  ihat 

crowd's  sod." 

Had  there  Ijeen  anything  further  to 
say  the  whir  of  his  motors  would  have 
drowned  it.  With  tilting  wing  he 
turneti  toward  the  seventh  hole.  And 
Eunice  caught  Rodd  by  the  arm  with 
that  kind  of  a  woman's  grij)  which  is 
stronger  than  man's  inu.scic  ariti  will 
not  let  go. 

"You  will  pursue  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yes:" 

"And  I  will  go  with  >ou,"  she  said 
with  a  matter-of-fact  cxMjIness  which 
was  almost  uncanny.     "I  must." 

"It  is  a  single-passenger  machine;  no 
knowing  where  this  journey  will  lead 
or  to  what  end,  and  though  the  affair 
began  in  the  game  of  gold,  noM  it's 
desperate,"  he  objected. 

"I  can  sit  between  the  braces  at  your 
feet.  I  am  not  afraid."  She  raised 
herself  to  her  toe  tips  with  an  insistent 
pressure  of  his  arm.  "I  must  !  I  must  ! 
I  am  to  blame  for  it  all  and — ^and — " 
she  let  her  secret  go  in  brave  abandon, 
"I  love  him  !" 

Her  eyes  were  so  near  to  his  that  he 
could  think  of  nothing  but  their  agony, 
which  was  too  intense,  too  command- 
ing for  him  to  resist  its  call. 

"Then  come.  We  are  the  two  inter- 
ested ones  in  his  fate.  We  will  see  this 
thing  through  together."  he  answered. 

Another  series  of  low  explosions 
began  their  muffled  reverberation  over 
the  course  as  they  hastened  to  the 
aerodrome.  When  the  Falcon  rose 
they  saw  the  Swallow  turning  in  their 
direction  from  the  eighteenth  hole  as 
it  passed  over  the  gleaming,  dew-laden 
roof  of  the  clubhouse;  and  then  the 
abruptness  with  which  Tim  changed 
his  direction  was  the  surest  sort  of 
signal  that  he  had  seen  the  Falcon 
and  knew  that  he  was  to  be  pursued. 

"If  he  would  only  try  to  shake  us 
off  by  doubling  on  his  course,"  said 
Rodd,  thoughtfully,  "that  would  serve 
our  purpose  best,  as  we  could  take 
advantage  of  the  angles." 

.Ascending  to  an  altitude  of  a  thou- 
sand feet,  Tim  laid  himself  a  level 
path  and,  laughing  at  currents  and 
eddies,  set  his  course  due  northeast 
with  all  the  accuracy  of  a  liner's  on  a 
chart;  and  after  him,  as  one  shot  fol- 
lows another  in  a  groove,  went  the 
Falcon.  Their  speed  was  something 
infinite,  glorious,  that  of  some  con- 
trolled meteor  across  the  sky.  Direct- 
ly under  the  plane  the\'  saw  only  a 
blur  of  furrowy,  variegated  green. 
Into  this  melted  a  witchery  of  twisting 
roads  and  streams,  the  splotches  of 
villages,  the  dots  of  houses,  the  pat- 
terns of  fields  from  the  onrushing  per- 
spective. It  was  like  running  the 
landscape  down  a  chute  which  nar- 
rowed toward  the  end.  It  seemed  that 
nothing  of  human  contrivance  could 
be  faster  and  not  e.xplosively  snap  into 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


149 


A  Flavor  That 

Tastes  Like  a  Luxury 

Especially     in     tlie    summer 
lime,   when  cooling  des- 
serts flavored  with 

MAPLEINE 


are  so  acceptable — mousse,  parfait, 
ice  cream,  ices,  whipped  cream, 
frosty  cakes,  un- 
cooked icing,  cust- 
ard—  M  a  p  1  e  i  n  e 
makes  them  deli- 
ciously  different. 

2  oz.,  50c 

At   grocers    or 
write 

Crescent  Mfg.  Co. 

Seattle,  Wn. 
Dept.  G. 

Rtcipt  hook  sent  for  2c  stam  f>\ 


All  "ARI.INflTON  COLLARS"  are  Rood, 
but  our  CUALLENGt;  BKAND  Is  (be  best 


bits    from    the    pressure    of    its    own 
velocity. 

Yet  one  thing  was  faster — the  Swal- 
low under  the  hand  of  the  pupil  of  the 
Falcon's  master.  That  fascinating  tar- 
get of  their  velocity  which  looked  still 
as  a  fly  on  the  wall  of  blue,  was  growing 
narrower  from  tip  to  tip  and  filmier  of 
outline.  Now  Eunice  made  her  first 
remark  since  they  had  risen.  For  all 
the  time  she  had  sat  as  still  as  the  rods 
she  gripped.  She  had  kept  her  pro- 
mise ;  she  was  unafraid. 

"With  the  two  machines  duplicates, 
it's  my  weight  that  makes  the  difTer- 
ence,  isn't  it  ?  I  hadn't  thought  of 
that,"  she  said  self-accusingly. 

"And  I  didn't.  I  couldn't,  in  face 
of  your  appeal,"  Rodd  answered  good- 
naturedly.  The  Falcon  was  doing  her 
best.  No  loss  of  temper,  no  urging 
could  give  her  another  ounce  of  power. 
"Yes,  we  are  losing  a  mile  out  of  every 
thirty  or  forty,  I  should  say.  But 
even  if  I  were  of  the  mind  to  put  you 
down,  which  I  am  not,  I  could  hardly 
afford  the  delay." 

"And  his  plan  is  to  go  on  till  he  sees 
that  we  have  melted  into  the  sky  and, 
by  the  converse,  he  knows  that  he  is 
no  longer  visible— and  then  he  has 
beaten  us  ?"  she  asked  quietly. 

At  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  an 
hour — which  was  the  record  of  1917 — a 
human  being  blown  across  the  expanse 
of  heaven  feels  himself  something 
infinitesimal  pinned  to  infinity  by  fate, 
like  a  beetle  on  a  cardboard.  To 
express  a  passion  strongly  is  as  futile 
as  to  cry  to  Niagara  to  stop  flowing. 
"We  can  only  keep  going,"  said 
Rodd.  "We  are  bound  to  do  that  for 
Tim's  sake." 

In  the  distance  they  saw  the  upper 
reaches  of  the  Hudson  River.  There 
was  the  flash  of  a  camera's  lens  through 
the  blink  of  a  diaphragm  shutter  and 
the  river  was  behind  them.  Ahead, 
the  vast,  hummocky  carpet  of  the 
Adirondacks  seemed  running  on  rollers 
over  ridges  and  under  stretches  of 
water  between  them.  The  Swallow 
was  the  size  of  a  half  sheet  of  note 
paper,  now  so  intangible  that  to  look 
away  from  it  was  to  make  sure  of  not 
picking  it  up  if  you  locjked  back  again. 
Suddenly  Rodd  stopped  the  motor. 
Before  Eunice  could  recover  from  her 
astonishment  they  were  gliding  over 
the  waters  of  a  lake  in  a  deep  valley. 

"It  means  you  have  given  up  the 
chase  !"  she  exclaimed;  and  even  as 
she  spoke  she  knew  l)y  hi«  expression 
that  he  had  a  new  plan. 

"I  want  him  to  think  I  have  given 
up,"  he  answered.  "I  hope  to  find 
him  at  home." 

At  length  they  res*-  and  at  a  more 
leisurely  pace  passed  over  another 
valley.  Rodd  nodded  toward  a  heal- 
ing scar  on  the  tree-clad  slope  of  a 
high    mountain    bevoiifl.     It    wns    the 


Soft  White  Hands 

Are  promoted  and  main- 
tained by  the  daily  use  of 
Cuticura  Soap  assisted  by 
an  occasional  application  of 
Cuticura  Ointment.  For 
red,  rough,  chapped  and 
bleeding  hands,  and  itch- 
ing, burning  palms  the  Cu- 
ticura Soap  and  Cuticura 
Ointment  work  wonders. 

Cuticura  Soap  and  Ointment  sold  throughout  the 
world.  Liberal  saraple  of  each  mailed  tree,  with 
32-p.  book.    Addresfl  "Cuticura."  l>ept.  133,  Boston. 

a^Men  who  shave  and  shampoo  with  Cutlcun 
Soap  will  find  It  beat  for  akin  and  scalp. 


Children 
Teething 

Motfaen  ghould  give  only  the  well-known 


Doctor  Stedman's 
teething  powders 


TRADE     <r«aiatiaBte     MARK 


The  many  millions  that  are  annually  nied 
eonititute  the  best  testimonial  in  their  fa- 
vor, they  are  guaranteed  by  the  proprietor 
to  be  absolutely  free  from  opium. 
See  the  Trade  Mark,  a  Gum  Lancet,  on 
every  packet  and  powder.  Refuse  all 
not  so  distinguished. 

Small  Packets,  9  Powders 
Large  Packets,  30  Powders 

ortiioHCMisTi  km  omia  sTomt 

HMUMOTOKf:  1H  «[«r  NOIITH  IIOAD.  lOdOOII.  CllllAaO. 


150 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


iiiiiin 


fm.M 


■"^^ 


'^ 


lake 


KODAK 


with  you 


Caialogue  free  ai  your  dealers,  or  by  ma''. 


CANADIAN  KODAK  CO.,  LIMITED,  TORONTO. 


CHILDREN'S    AILMENTS. 


For  the  relief  of  the  numerous  simple  and  familiar  ailments  of 

Infants  and  young  Children,  especially  during  the  period  of 

teething,   there  is  nothing  to  equal 

WOODWARD'S  GRIPE  WATER. 

It    relieves    and    prevents    Convulsions,    Gripes,    Acidity,    Flatulency, 

Whooping  Cough,  Cramp,   Sickness,  Diarrhoea,  &c.,  and  has  behind  it 

a  long  record  of  Medical  Approval. 

It  contains  no  preparatimi  of  Opium  or  ot)ier  Narcotic. 

For  a  healthy  child,  a  small  dose  once  or  twice  a  day,  mixed  with  the  food, 

promotes  perfect  digestion  ami  keeps  the  whole  system  in  order. 
Of    any     DruKK'sts.  Be    sure    it's    WOODWARD'S. 


path  of  a  funicular  railroad  which  had 
led  to  an  isolated  hotel  at  the  top,  where 
a  famous  host  had  planned  a  Monte 
Carlo  for  picking  the  plumage  of  his 
rich  guests.  But  the  law  had  inter- 
fered. His  hotel  had  burned  down  and 
the  place  was  now  neglected  and  for- 
gotten. 

Coming  home  together  once  from 
Montreal  in  the  two-passenger  Alba- 
tross, Rodd  and  Tim  had  flown  directly 
over  the  spot.  Tim  had  remarked 
that  a  man  could  have  an  aviation 
station  there  without  having  his  elbows 
jiggled  by  curiosity  seekers  whenever 
he  wanted  to  screw  on  a  nut  head. 

As  the  Falcon  came  up  flush  with 
the  crest  Rodd  saw  that  he  had  guessed 
aright.  The  recent  underbrush  had 
been  cleared  away  from  the  old  yard  of 
the  ruins,  evidently  by  Tim's  own  hand. 
Rising  or  alighting,  he  would  seem  to 
any  guide  or  hunter  who  saw  him 
simply  to  be  coming  up  from  the  other 
side  of  the  mountain  or  passing  over  it. 
The  old  power  house  was  the  shop 
where  he  had  made  his  little  gun-cotton 
capsules.  He  had  knocked  out  the 
side  of  the  bowling  alley  for  a  plane 
shed,  and  there,  in  the  landing  track 
which  he  had  made,  lay  the  Swallow, 
with  Tim  standing  at  her  side.  It  was 
plain  that  he  had  seen  the  Falcon  and 
was  watching  sharply  to  see  what  Rodd 
would  do  next. 

"You  will  descend — perhaps  we  can 
reason  with  him  now,"  said  Eunice. 

Rodd  had  nothing  less  in  view. 
There  was  hardly  room  for  two  planes 
in  that  narrow  place,  but  he  would 
take  the  chance.  As  he  circled  round 
to  be  head  on  to  the  track,  Tim  sprang 
back  into  his  seat  in  the  Swallow,  and 
as  the  Falcon's  wheels  touched  ground 
his  were  leaving  it.  He  looked  back 
with  a  smile  and  a  toss  of  his  head, 
which  said  "stardust  to  the  stars"  and 
all  kinds  of  wild  things;  which  said 
that  he  did  not  mean  to  be  taken  alive 
and  would  fight  with  his  last  drop  of 
gasoline  and  the  last  fluttering  rag  of 
a  torn  plane  cloth. 

Now,  to  destroy  Tim's  plant,  Rodd 
reasoned  quickly,  was  not  to  put  him 
out  of  bu.siness,  if  he  had  any  capital 
left.  He  would  simply  equip  another 
secret  station  and,  in  exasperation 
o^'er  the  events  of  the  morning,  might 
proceed  to  even  more  dangerous  lengths. 
Pursuit  fitted  in  with  Rodd's  sense  of 
duty  and  the  impulse  of  the  moment. 

The  Falcon's  wheels  had  scarcely 
turned  on  the  ground  before  she  was 
back  in  the  air.  Tim  stuck  to  his  old 
tactics,  this  time  bearing  due  west. 
He  was  gaining  at  about  the  same  rate 
as  before,  but  ahead  the  blue  of  the 
sky  grew  misty,  then  black.  Rodd 
uttered  a  cry  of  triumph,  which  trailed 
into  a  falling  inflection  of  fear. 

"Will  he  go  into  that  thunderhead  ? 
If  he  does  in  that  light  machine,  not 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


151 


only  shall  we  lose  sight  of  him,  but  his 
plane  will  surely  suffer  some  damage — 
if  he  comes  out  alive,"  Rodd  proceeded 
in  explanation.  "If  he  turns  to  make  a 
detour  we  will  overtake  him  by  cutting 
the  angle." 

"And  that  means  ?"  Eunice  asked. 

"That  I  may  get  him  awash — it's 
equivalent  to  taking  the  wind  out  of 
his  sails." 

"And  then  ?" 

"I  could  hang  over  him  till  he  sank 
to  earth,  perhaps.  But  he  may  rise  to 
interfere  and  I  can't  tell,  in  that  case, 
what  would  happen  to  either  plane. 
There  !  I  knew  it  !  His  aviator's 
instinct  to  beat  the  storm  was  too 
strong  !" 

For  Tim  was  bearing  to  the  left, 
preparing  to  skirt  that  cloud  bank, 
already  shot  with  forked  lightning,  as 
the  skipper  of  a  ship  skirts  a  shoal. 
Rodd  looked  to  Eunice  with  a  question 
which  the  eyes  could  ask  quicker  than 
the  tongue.  Her  answer  was  in  kind, 
in  a  flash  of  decision  worthy  of  the 
situation.  It  were  better  that  the 
worst  should  come  there,  far  from  any 
news-gatherer  or  gossip,  than  that  he 
go  on  to  death  or  capture  by  the  law, 
and  a  name  which  had  been  covered 
with  honors  should  know  disgrace. 

Judging  his  angle  in  relation  to  the 
speed  of  the  two  planes,  Rodd  directed 
the  Falcon  along  the  hypothenuse, 
aiming  to  bring  her  up  with  a  sharp 
turn  as  he  approached  in  a  position  to 
blanket  the  Swallow.  The  thing  had 
been  done  before  by  accident  in 
manoeuvers,  with  a  fatal  result  to  the 
victim,  a  new  aviator,  who  had  lost  his 
head;  but  no  one  had  ever  had  the 
temerity  to  try  the  experiment  in 
practice.  But  Tim  divined  the  trick, 
and  at  the  critical  moment,  when  they 
were  so  near  that  they  saw  his  face 
clearly  in  its  pantherish,  watchful 
keenness,  he  shot  the  Swallow  upward 
and  her  upper  plane  locked  with  the 
Falcon's    lower. 

Eunice  closed  her  eyes  to  shut  out 
the  sight  of  the  dreadful  thing  she 
feared.  There  was  a  rocking  and  a 
wrenching  as  she  waited,  through  an 
eternity  it  seemed  to  her,  for  the  end. 
In  fact,  only  a  few  seconds  had  passed 
t>efore  she  heard  Rodd's  warning  "hold 
fast  !"  repeated,  and  she  opened  her 
eyes  and  saw  the  wreck  of  the  Swallow 
lying  on  the  branches  of  second-growth 
pine,  while  the  Falcon,  tipping  this 
way  and  that,  like  some  young  bird 
tumbled  out  of  the  nest  to  find  its 
wings  for  the  first  time,  came  to  rest 
in   a   clearing. 

"And  Tim  ?"  .she  gasped,  from  a 
dry   throat. 

"And  Tim  ?"  Rodd  repeated  gravely. 

Together  they  ran  to  the  edge  of  the 

wood;  and  neither  shouted — they  were 

too  full  of   joy  at  the  sight — but  Ixjth 

stood  still  like  a  pair  of  children  over- 


There's  just  one  question  to 
ask  after  youVe  heard   an 

Edison  Phonograph 

*'  Ho'w  soon  can  I  get  one?'' 

The  wonderful  new  hornless  instruments  have 
talked  and  sung  and  played  themselves  into 
popularity.  The  silent,  smooth-running  motor, 
the  diamond  reproducing  point  that  does  away 
with  bothersome  changing  of  needles,  the 
beauty  of  design  and  the  sweet-toned,  un- 
breakable Blue  Amberol  Records  require  no 
argument. 

Listen  and  see  for  yourself.  Any  up-to-date 
phonograph  dealer  will  be  glad  to  give  you  a 
free  concert  on  the  Edison  to-day.  Insist  upon 
hearing  the  Edison.  You  can  get  one  without 
delay. 


112  Lakeside  Av.,  Oraniie,  N.J. 


whelmed  before  Tim  sitting  upright  on 
a  carpet  of  pine  needles,  wiping  a  spot 
of  blood  off  a  scratch  on  his  forehead. 

"It's  eight  down,"  he  was  saying, 
"hut  if  I  get  a  good  brassy  on  this  I 
may  do  that  stick  of  peppermint  candy 
at  his  own  game  yet." 

He  had  gone  right  back  to  the  point 
in  his  career  when  that  wire  connection 
was  severed.  The  bell  had  stopped  its 
titter,  and  he  did  not  know  that  it  had 
ever  been  ringing,  which,  the  alienists 
say,  is  not  at  all  unusual  in  such  cases. 

Blinking,  he  looked  around  him  and 


greeted   Eunice  and   Rodd  dazedly. 

"Danny,"  he  said  drily,  "it  looks  to 
me  as  if  there  is  something  that  needs 
explaining." 

While  he  listened  to  Rodd's  account 
of  all  that  had  passed  he  was  engaged 
in  breaking  pine  needles  into  tiny, 
fractional  sections.  His  lips  twitched 
with  a  smile  at  times  and  again  stiff- 
ened soberly. 

"And  here  you  are,"  Rodd  con- 
cluded. 

"Yes,  apparently,"  said  Tim.  "Any- 
way  I   didn't   kill  anybody  and    I'm 


152 


to,  end  Corns 


y 


Paring  a  corn  brings 
only  brief  relief.  And 
there  is  danger  in  it. 

The  way  to  end  corns  is  with 
Blue-jay.  It  stops  the  pain 
instantly.  Then  it  loosens  the 
corn,  and  in  48  hours  the  entire 
corn  comes  out. 


Blue-jay  is  applied  in  a 
moment.  From  that  time  on 
you  will   not  feel   the  corn. 

Leave  it  on  for  two  days, 
until  it  gently  undermines  the 
corn.  Then  lift  the  corn  out. 
There  will  be  no  pain  or  sore- 
ness. 

Blue -jay  has  ended  sixty 
million  corns.  Nearly  half  the 
corns  in  the  country  now  are 
ended  in  this  way. 

There  is  nothing  else  like  it. 
And  no  man  who  knows  will 
even  suggest  any  other  way  for 
dealing  with  corns. 

Blue -jay 

For  Corns 

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CANADA  MONTHLY 

ready  to  serve  my  sentence  in  jail; 
only — only — "  he  glanced  up  to  Eunice, 
flushing. 

She  sprang  toward  him,  her  hands 
extended;  and  he  was  not  so  diffident, 
after  that  demonstration,  as  to  leave 
further  advances  to  her.  The  pair 
were  so  completely  absorbed  in  their 
happiness  that  they  were  for  flying 
back  together  in  the  Falcon,  which 
needed  only  a  rod  wound  with  wire  and 
a  plane  relaced  by  way  of  repair. 

"And  leave  me  to  walk  !"  Rodd 
interjected.  "Not  so  fast!  You  over- 
look certain  details — certain  conclu- 
sions which  will  be  drawn  by  the  irate 
Golf  Association  from  the  coincidence 
of  your  return  and  the  cessation  of  the 
depredations.  Tim,  you  have  yet  to 
go  to  Bermuda." 

"Yes,  Danny,  thou  wise  one  !" 
answered  Tim  affectionately. 

A  few  days  later  the  papers  announc- 
ed that  Tim  Rainey  had  not  been  lost 
at  sea  after  all.  He  had  been  driven 
by  the  blow  which  led  him  to  drop  that 
bottle  to  a  small  inaccessible  West 
Indian  island,  which  was  visited  by  a 
steamer  every  second  month.  When 
the  reporters  tried  to  interview  him  at 
St.  John's  on  his  return  he  had  nothing 
to  say  except  that  the  quality  of  the 
cocoanuts  on  that  island  was  excellent. 
Meanwhile,  if  you  are  interested  to 
know,  Parker  Worthington  was 
moodily  traversing  the  links  of  Europe, 
unable  to  get  nearer  than  ten  to  his 
record  score. 


The   Silver  King 

Continued  from  page  102. 

room.  He  was  wild  with  rage.  "Come 
out  and  show  yourself,  you  damned 
hound  !  Come  out  and  meet  your 
doom,  Geoffrey  Ware,"  he  cried, 
flourishing  his  revolver. 

Skinner  crept  up  behind  Denver. 
With  deft  mo\ements  he  pressed  a 
chloroform  pad  over  Denver's  face. 
The  latter  struggled  violently  for  a  few 
moments.  Then  he  fell  to  the  floor,  his 
revolver  flung  out  of  his  hand.  Cripps 
and  Coombe  picked  Denver  up  and 
laid  him  by  the  fireside.  The  revolver 
they  placed  on  the  table. 

The  three  glanced  at  Denver.  He 
would  eyjdently  give  them  no  further 
trouble.    They  resumed  work  again. 

A  moment  later  light  flooded  the 
room.  Geoffrey  Ware  stood  in  the 
doorway  calmly  surveying  them. 

"What  are  you  doing  ?"  he  asked. 

"Your  clerk  asked  us  to  come  in  and 
spend  the  evening,"  coolly  responded 
Skinner,  as  he  picked  up  the  burglar 
tools  and  put  them  in  a  box.  Skinner's 
movements  attracted  Ware's  atten- 
tion to  the  jemmies,  and  other  safe- 
breaking  implements.  He  caught 
Skinner's  arm  as  he  was  preparing  to 


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leave.  Coombe  and  Cripps  looked  on 
fascinated. 

"I  want  this  cleared  up,"  said  Ware. 
"Ah  !  I  see  you're  thieves.  Help  ! 
Murder  !    Thieves  !" 

Skinner  picked  up  the  revolver  that 
had  fallen  from  Denver's  hand.  Blind- 
ly without  thought  or  direction  he 
shot  at  Ware.  The  latter  sank  to  the 
floor  without  a  cry. 

A  long  silence  followed  the  tragedy. 
Finally,    "My    God  !      You've    killed 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


153 


him,"  said  Cripps.  "Quick!  Let's  get 
out  of  iiere  !"  They  started  towards  the 
door. 

"Not  that  way,"  said  Skinner.  "The 
window." 

Terrified,  the  trio  stepped  out  on  the 
leads  and  vanished  as  silently  as  they 
had  entered. 

Wilfred  Denver,  unconscious  of  the 
drama  enacted,  lay  still  silent  on  the 
floor.  He  was  aroused  by  old  Leaker, 
Ware's  valet,  who  had  been  awakened 
by  the  shot.  Leaker  shook  him  by  the 
shoulder.  The  chloroform  had  not  yet 
worn  off.  Denver  asked  Leaker  his 
whereabouts.  "You're  in  Mr.  Ware's 
rooms,  sir,'-'  he  said.  Denver  told 
Leaker  that  he  would  go  home  when 
he  felt  better.  He  refused  Leaker's 
proffered  aid,  and  the  latter  left  the 
room. 

Denver  sat  up  and  tried  to  realize 
his  surroundings. 

"Get  home,  you  drunken  scoundrel," 
he  told  himself.  "What  am  I  doing 
here  ?  Get  home,  you  drunken  scoun- 
drel !"  Denver  got  up.  Blindly  he 
staggered  across  the  room,  till  he 
stumbled  on  the  dead  form  of  Ware. 

Denver  bent  down  and  peered  into 
the  face  of  his  rival. 

"What's  that  ?  It's  Geoffrey  Ware. 
What's  he  doing  here  ?  Get  up,  will 
you  ?  Ah,  what's  this  ?  Blood  !  He's 
shot  !  My  God  !  I've  murdered  him  1 
No,  no — let  me  think.  What  hap- 
pened ?  Ah,  yes,  I  remember  now — 
came  in  at  that  door,  he  sprang  at 
Be,  then  we  struggled.  My  revolver 
"=^ne  barrel  fired — I've  murdered 
him!  Geoffrey  Ware  !  Are  you  dead?' 
Flagerly  Denver  tore  at  Ware's  shirt 
and  felt  his  heart.  "No  !  No  !  quite 
still,"  he  cried  in  anguish.  "He's 
dead  !  Dead  !  Dead  !  I've  killed 
him  !  I've  killed  him  !  What  can  I 
do  ?"  Denver  glanced  at  the  upturned 
face  of  Ware.  "My  God  I  don't  stare 
at  me  like  that  !"  he  screamed. 

Frantically  he  snatched  the  table- 
cloth and  placed  it  on  the  still  form. 
"Close  those  eyes,  Geoffrey.  Close 
those  eyes,  Geoffrey,"  he  whispered 
hoarsely.  Then,  stumbling  toward  the 
d<K>r,  he  let  himself  out.  muttering 
mechanically,  "I've  done  it  !  I've 
done  it  !" 

III. 
Nellie  was  waiting  for  her  husband. 
It  was  six  o'clock,  and  she  had  been 
up  all  night.    The  sitting  up  of  nights 
had  made  her  lx>nny,  rosy  cheeks  pale. 
Denver  entered  the  room.    His  face 
was    blanched,    and    great    beads    of 
perspiration  stood  out  on  his  forehead. 
"Will,"  cried  Nellie. 
"Don't    touch    me  !"    s;iid    Denver 
fiercely.    "There's  hUtod  on  my  hands." 
Nellie,      with      woman's     intuition, 
guessed  what  had  hapjHined. 

"You  must  get  out  of  here  quickly," 
she    .said . 


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Denver  started  voluble  explanations. 
Nellie  cut  them  short.  It  was  not 
time  for  whys  and  wherefores. 

Rushing  into  the  bedrcxjm  Denver 
kissed  his  children  good-bye.  Then 
clasping  his  wife  to  his  arms  he  stole 
quietly  out  the  rear  of  the  house.  He 
was  none  too  quick.  Detective  Baxter 
knocked  loudly  at  the  door.  The  chase 
for  the  murderer  of  Geoffrey  Ware  had 
begun. 

One  thought  fixed  itself  in  Denver's 
mind.     He  must  away,  thousands  of 


miles  awa>.  Almost  sub-consciously 
he  tnade  his  way  to  the  North-western 
station.  Luck  was  with  him.  A  train 
left  for  Liverpool  in  three  minutes. 
Mechanically  he  bought  a  ticket,  and 
boarded  the  train  as  it  was  leaving  the 
station.  A  minute  later  Baxter  rushed 
up  to  the  platform.  "Gone  !"  he  cried. 
"Never  mind,  I'll  wire  them  to  stop 
him  at  Rugby." 

The  London  evening  papers  were  full 
that  night  of  the  story  of  the  wreck  of 
the   Liverpool   express.      Interest   was 


154 


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of 

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Merits 

of 

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When  in  the  West 

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CANADA  MONTHLY 

added  to  the  story  by  the  fact  that 

among  the  dead  was  supposed  to  be 

Wilfred   Denver.     The  front  carriage 

was    burned    in    which    Denver    was 

believed  to  have  been.    Apparently  he 

had  escaped  the  penalty  of  his  crime. 

On  the  boat  speeding  to  America  was 

)enver.      He   had   jumped   from   the 

rain,  averting  a  terrible  fate.     "I'm 

dead  to  the  world,  then,"  he  said  as  he 

read    a    copy    of    an    evening    paper. 

Providence  has  seen  fit  to  spare  me. 

With  God's  help  I  will  work  out  my 

salvation." 

Three  years  passed  by.  At  home 
Nellie  was  living  in  poverty.  Old 
Jaikes  was  working  his  fingers  to  the 
bone  to  provide  his  mistress  with  a 
home  and  nourishment  for  her  children. 
By  a  peculiar  irony  of  fate  Nellie  had 
drifted  to  a  tumble-down  cottage  owned 
by  "The  Spider."-  Eviction  was 
threatened. 

Away  in  the  silver  mines  of  Nevada 
Denver  had  made  good.  He  was  a 
millionaire,  but  the  money  he  sent 
home  never  reached  NelHe. 

Honest  work  had  made  a  new  man 
of  him.  Sometimes  the  thought  passed 
through  him  that  there  might  be  some 
terrible  mistake.  Often  he  would  wake 
in  the  night  from  the  dream  that  he 
was  not  the  murderer.  "If  only  it 
were  not  true,"  he  would  say  to  him- 
self. 

Suggestion  became  a  reality,  a  fixed 
thought  with  him.  The  agony  became 
almost  too  great  to  bear.  A  great 
yearning  to  see  his  wife  and  his  children 
came  over  him.  One  day  Wilfred 
Denver,  now  the  "Silver  King,"  sailed 
for  the  land  of  his  birth. 

Nobody  recognized  the  supposed 
murderer  of  Geoffrey  Ware.  He  had 
changed  greatly.  His  brown  hair  was 
completely  white,  a  grave  and  sub- 
dued manner  took  the  place  of  his 
former  hail-fellow-well-met  air. 

Pupils  in  the  school  near  the  Denver 
home  were  singing  the  old,  old  hymn 
of  repentance,  pardon,  peace,  as  Denver 
drew  near,  after  private  detectives  had 
been  employed  weeks  in  searching  for 
his  wife  and  children. 

Then  let  me  stay  in  doubt  no  more, 

Since  there  is  sure  release, 
Forever  open  stands  the  door, 

Repentance,  Pardon,  Peace. 

"The  message.  That's  for  me,"  he 
murmured.  His  children  came  out  of 
the  school.  They  passed  him  without 
recognizing  him. 

"Never,  never,"  thought  Denver  to 
himself.  "I  will  go  to  them  with  clean 
hands."  The  promised  delight  was 
not  yet.  Calling  his  little  daughter  to 
him,  he  pressed  five  hundred  pounds 
into  her  hand. 

"Just  tell  your  mother  an  old  gentle- 
man gave  this  money  to  you,"  he  told 
her.  Then,  with  a  loving  look  at  the 
child,    he    walked    slowly    away,    the 


The   Best 
Reason 

Why  You 

Should 

Drink 

SEAL 
BRAND 

COFFEE 

Is, 

Because 

You   Will 

Like 

It 


CHASE  &;  SANBORN 

MONTREAL 


problem  of  redemption  still  tearing  at 
his  heart  strings. 

IV. 

For  weeks  Denver,  disguised  as 
"Deaf  Dicky,"  known  in  crook  land  as 
a  reliable  messenger  on  account  of  his 
chronic  deafness  had  dogged  the  foot- 
steps of  Captain  Skinner  and  his 
associates.  Instinct  had  made  him 
believe  the  problem  of  that  terrible 
night  in  Hatton  Garden  could  only  be 
solved  by  "The  Spider,"  or  possibly 
Coombe  or  Cripps. 

To  the  latter  'Enery  Corkett  was 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


155 


becoming  a  nuisance.  His  knowledge 
that  Skinner  was  the  real  murderer  of 
Ware  he  found  useful  to  raise  money 
when  needed. 

Another  question  confronted  the 
band  of  crooks — that  of  obtaining  a 
reliable  caretaker  for  the  sniig  crib,  a 
deserted  warehouse  on  the  water-front 
where  they  kept  their  swag.  "Deaf 
Dicky"  was  the  person  they  finally 
decided  upon. 

Then  Denver  knew  his  time  had 
come.  It  was  but  a  matter  of  days,  he 
realized. 

Corkett  became  more  persistent  in 
his  demands  for  money.  Down  in  the 
water-side  crib  he  was  pressing  his 
claims  for  the  hundredth  time.  Behind 
a  bale  of  goods  long  rotted,  Denver 
stood  listening. 

"I  mean  to  have  fifty  quid,"  he 
cried. 

"Get  out  of  here,  you  venomous  little 
brat  !"  cried  Skinner,  losing  his  self- 
control. 

"Give  it  to  me;  damn  you  !"  shouted 
Corkett,  "or  I  will  betray  you  as  the 
real  murderer  of  Geoffrey  Ware  four 
years  ago." 

No  longer  able  to  restrain  himself, 
Denver  leapt  up  with  a  terrific  scream. 
"Innocent  !  Innocent !"  he  shrieked, 
deliriously. 

"Who  are  you  ?"  asked  Skinner. 

"Wilfred  Denver  !" 

"Stop  him  !  Stop  him  1"  cried 
Coombe. 

"The  whole  world  shall  not  stop  me 
now,"  shouted  Denver,  triumphantly. 
Then,  rushing  out  of  the  warehouse,  he 
hailed  a  passing  hansom,  and  drove  to 
Scotland  Yard.  "I  surrender  myself 
on  the  charge  of  having  murdered 
Geoffrey  Ware  in  Hatton  Garden  four 
years  ago,"  he  said  quietly. 

"You  needn't  worry  about  that," 
replied  Baxter.  "Corkett  was  here 
half  an  hour  ago,  and  turned  King's 
evidence." 

In  the  little  country  home  that  he 
had  bought  for  Nellie,  through  Jaikes 
who  had  been  sworn  to  secrecy,  Denver 
i^L   found  his  wife 

^0  For  a  moment  she  did  not  know  him. 
Then  while  the  light  of  recognition  lit 
up  her  face  he  held  out  his  arms.  A« 
if  in  some  delirious  dream  that  could 
not  be  true,  Nellie  staggered^ toward 
him. 

"Is  it— my  Will?  My  Will— this  face 
— this  white  hair — my  Will  alive  ?" 
she  asked  fearfully.  • 

"Nell,"  cried  Denver.  Then  he 
folded  her  in  his  arms  in  one  long 
embrace. 


"Why  does  Miss  Screamditi  always 
close  her  eyes  when  she  sings  ?" 

"Well,  you  know  she  is  so  tender- 
hearted that  she  can  not  bear  to_see 
any  one  suffer."  ^^  ^  ~ 


Askii\ 

you  love  ta  toucK 


) 


Why  it  is  so  rars 

A  skin  you  love  to  touch  is  rarely  found 
because  so  few  people  understand  the  skin 
and  its  needs. 

Begin  now  to  take  your  skin  seriously. 

Vou  can  ^nake  it  what  you  would  love  to 
have  it  by  using  the  following  treatment 
regularly. 

Make  this  treatment  a  daily  habit 

Jost  before  retiring,  work  up  a  warm  water 
lather  of  Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  an<l  rub  it 
into  the  skin  gently  until  the  skin  is  softened, 
the  pores  opened  and  the  face  feels  fresh  and 


clean.  Rinse  In  cooler  water,  then  apply  cold 
water — the  colder  the  better — for  a  full  min- 
ute. Whenever  possible,  rub  your  face  for  a 
few  minutes  with  a  piece  of  ice.  Always  dry 
the  skin  thoroughly. 

Use  this  treatment  persistently  for  ten  days 
or  two  weeks  and  your  skin  will  show  a  marked 
improvement.  Use  Woodbury's  regularly 
thereafter,  and  before  long  your  skin  will  take 
on  that  finer  texture,  that  greater  freshness 
and  clearness  of  "a  skin  you  love  to  touch." 

Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  is  the  work  of  a 
skin  specialist.  It  cost  2IJc  a  cake.  No  one 
hesitates  at  the  price  after  their  first  cake. 
Tear  out  the  illustration  of  the  cake  below 
and  put  it  in  your  purse  as  a  reminder  to  get 
Woodbury's  today. 


Woodbury's  Facial  Soap 


For  sale  by  Canadian  druggists  from  coast  to  coasts 
including  Newfoundland. 

Write    today    to    the    Canadian 
Woodbury  Factory  for  Mamples 

For  4c  tut  liiill  send  a  lamplt  cake.  For  10c, 
samples  of  Woodbury's  Facial  Soap,  Facial 
Cream  and  Poiuder.  For  50c,  copy  of  the 
IVoodbury  Book  and  samples  of  the  H'oodbury 
Preparations. 

Address  The  Andrew  Jergen*  Co.,  Ltd., 
Dept.iii.Q   Certh,  Ontario. 


Greta  Greer 

Continued  from  page  138. 

rising,  "there  is  still  a  point  which  is 
not  straightened  out.  What  had  Jean 
to  do  with  it  ?" 

"Oh,  that's  another  story,  "  laughed 
the  other,  still  holding  the  door  open. 
"You  see,  we  had  just  been  lunching 
together  when  I  was  sent  for.  After 
1  left  her,  she  went  back  to  her  rooms 
in  town,  where  she  found  her  aunt's 
telegram  announcing  the  good  lady's 
immediate    sailing.      There    was    just 


time  to  make  the  boat  and  rush  fjack 
to  the  Beauforts'  for  a  last  rehearsal. 
In  the  taxi  she  wrote  that  enigmatic 
and  apparently  incriminating  little 
note,  thrust  it  into  Mrs.  Threckmeyer's 
hands  and  with  a  hurried  kiss  dashed 
off  before  I  arrived.  Of  course  she 
knew  nothing  of  the  robbery  then,  nor 
of  my  sudden  trip.  In  all  the  worry  and 
excitement  she  has  been  a  little  brick, 
and  I  felt  pretty  sore  at  the  old  dame 
for  her  suspicions  against  Jean,  that 
day  she  rehearsed  her  past  history,  in 
the  cabin." 


156 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Details  of  the 

Typewriting  Contests 

held  in  conjunction  with  the  Annual  Business  Show    at   the 
Arena,  Toronto,  April  25th  and  27th,  1914. 

INTERNATIONAL   CHAMPIONSHIP 

HALF-HOUR 

Net  Words. 
Name.  Machine.  Total  Words.  Errors.  Per  Minute 

Margaret  B.  Owen Underwood  3,928  32  l26 

Rose  L.  Fritz Underwood  3,864  39  U2 

Bessie  Friedman Underwoofl  3,806  32  122 

Emil  Trefzger Underwood  3,704  18  120 

Wm.  F.  Oswald Underwood  3,725  32  119 

Rose  Bloom Underwood  3,742  45  117 

G.  Trefzger Underwood  3,648  32  116 

Parker  C.  Woodson Remington  3,626  60  111 

Harold   H.  Smith Remington  3,583  105  102 

E.  v..  Wiese Remington  3,507  130  95 

CANADIAN   CHAMPIONSHIP 

HALF-HOUR 

Fred  Jarret Underwood  3,444  61  105 

Corinne  Bourdon Underwood  3,288  70  98 

P.  J.  Cowan Underwood  3,379  147  88 

Nellie  Haskell Underwood  2,985  153  74 

Marv  Tharrett Underwood  2,266  104  58 

Thos.  Vezina Underwood  2,350  128  57 

Reta  Odium Underwood  1,595  73  41 

'T^HE  real  value  o/  a   typewriter  lies  TN  spite  of  all  the  efforts  put  forth  by 

/     in  its  speed.     Speed  is  the  reason  /    makers  of  other  typewriters,  there  is 

of  the  machine's  existence.    There  no    machine    which    can    equal   the 

may  be  other  good  points  about  a  type-  Underwood  in  speed.    It  has  won  every 

writer,  but  they  are  simply  thrown  in  for  Championship  Contest. 

good  measure. 

United  Typewriter  Company 

Limited 

IN  ALL  CANADIAN  CITIES. 


The  Secret  of  Beauty 

is  a  clear  velvety  skin  and  a  youthful  complexion. 
If  you  value  your  good  looks  and  desire  a 
perfect  complexion,  you  must  use  Beetham's 
La-rola.  It  possesses  unequalled  qualities  for 
imparting  a  youthful  appearance  to  the  skm 
and  complexion  of  its  users.  La-rola  is  delicate 
and  fragrant,  quite  greaseless,  and  is  very 
'  pleasant  to  use.  Get  a  bottle  to-day,  and  thus 
ensure   a  pleasing    and  attractive  complexion. 


BEETHAM'S    V 

a-rola 


Obtainable    from  all   Stores  and    Chemists 
M.  BEETHAM   &  SON.  CHaiENHAM,  ENGLAND. 


"Well,"  objected  Dare,  "if  she 
doesn't  mind,  you  need  not.  The  girl 
isherniece." 

"But  she  is  my  wife,"  grinned  Billy 
over  his  shoulder.  "And  if  you  think 
it  over  you  will  see  that  our  bridal 
lunch  together  explains  the  note." 

He  was  off  before  the  other  two  men 
could  catch  him,  and  as  they  stepped 
into  the  passage,  laughing,  Greta 
Greer  came  toward  them. 

"I  have  been  looking  for  you."  She 
did  not  address  either  of  them  par- 
ticularly. "Mr.  Cunningham  has  just 
sent  me  such  a  nice  note  telling  me 
about  his  work.  I  am  soiry  for  the 
poor  girl — but,  oh,  so  relieved  !"  As 
Dare  stopped  to  read  the  note  she 
placed  in  his  hands,  the  captain  walked 
a  few  steps  ahead  with  the  girl  and  he 
spoke  to  her  softly.  For  an  answer  she 
put  her  hand  on  his  shoulder  and  bowed 
her  head  without  speaking.  He  seemed 
to  consider  it  sufficient.  "And  remem- 
ber that  I  believe  in  you — always," 
whispered  Myles,  "always,  Greta — "  A 
moment  later,  when  the  doctor  joined 
her,  her  green  eyes  were  full  of  happy 
tears. 

The  End. 


Scissor  Snips 

My  Mama  says  'at  she  found  out 
Soon  as  I  bobbed  my  yellow  curls. 

Which  one  her  black-eyed  Susie  was  ! — 
She  don't  know  flowers  fum  Little 
Girls  ! 

An'  goin'  home  she  'splained  to  me 
Down  in  th'  high-up  grass  is  where 

Ole  Mister  Snake  has  got  a  house, — 
He  might  come  out  an'  say,  "Who's 
There  ?" 

Nex'  time  I  go  all  by  myse'f 

I'll  jus'  take  Rover-dog  wif  me, 

Ne'n  he  can  'splain  to  Snakes  an'  things 
'Cause  he  is  animals,  you  see  ! 

"What  do  you  mean  by  giving  me 
such  a  nasty  look  ?" 

"  Why,"  returned  the  secretary, 
suavely,  "I  notice  that  you  have  a 
nasty  look,  but  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  giving  it  to  you." 

A  stalwart  young  German  applied 
for  a  position  on  a  farm.  As  he  walked 
into  the  barn  he  addressed  the  farmer: 
"Hey    mister,  will  you  job  me  ?" 

"Will  I  what  ?" 

"Will  you  job  me  ?     Make  me  work 

yet." 

"Oh,  I  see;  you  want  a  job,"  said 
the  farmer.  "Well,  how  much  do  you 
want  a  month  ?" 

"I  tell  you.  If  you  eat  me  on  der 
farm  I  come  for  fife  dollars,  but  for 
twenty-fife  dollars  I  eat  myself  at 
Schmidt's." 


VOL.  XVI. 
NO.  3 


■COD* 


CANADA 
MONTHLY 


LONDON 
JULY 


i^ 


.mnuninawCB.t4X>J>iiii>wuiiuiiiujiiiJiiuiuiiiiiiuiJiuuiiMiuiuimiiiiiiiiiiiim 


Marbles  for  Keeps 

BEING  THE  STORY  OF  HOW  "LITTLE  SIR"  LOST  HIS  FIRST  MARBLES 

LIKE  A  GENTLEMAN  AND  A  SPORTSMAN,  IN  SPITE  OF  THE  FACT 

THAT    A    SIX- YEAR-OLD  MAN'S    CODE    OF    HONOR    IS    AN 

UNFATHOMABLE  MYSTERY  TO  THE  BEST  OF  MOTHERS 


JOHN  is  the  third  in  order  of  five 
lusty  boys  belonging  to  my  elder 
brother,  Jack  Bradford.  Now, 
why  John  should  have  been  mark- 
ed by  fate  to  be  the  buffer  between  the 
two  teams,  namely:  Jerry  and  Bud, 
the  two  oldest,  and  Jim  and  Tom, 
the  two  youngest,  is  a  thing  that 
can  only  be  understood  by  grave 
old  ladies  who  wag  their  bonnets 
and  aver  that,  perhaps,  it  is  all 
for  his  good.  At  any  rate,  John 
has  no  running  mate,  being  quite 
safely  segregated  from  both  teams 
by  age. 

John  is  six  years  old,  firmly 
planted  on  his  two  feet,  possessed 
of  a  man's  voice  and  built  for 
all  time,  very  closely  resembling 
pictures  of  Vulcan  at  his  forge. 
Great  talcs  are  current  in  the 
family  of  his  feats  of  strength, 
J  dating  from  the  cradle.  When  he 
-  was  taking  his  first  steps,  he  had 
overturned  a  table  of  medium  size, 
which  still  stands,  monumental,  in 
the  upstairs  hall,  and  gone  calmly 
about  his  business  of  learning  to 
walk  by  pushing  the  table  before 
him.  At  the  age  of  two,  he  had 
pushed  carts,  buggies  and  surreys 
out  of  the  barn  and  placed  them 
at  intervals  about  the  lawn  and 
stable-yard. 

But  these  feats  of  strength  were 
not  unanimously  regarded  with  admira- 
tion by  all  the  family;  in  fact,  I  found 
on  arriving  at  my  brother's  home  for 
a  visit  that  the  household  was  divided 
into  two  parts;  those  who  were  for 
John,  and  those  who  were  not.     His 


By  Victoria  Munro 

Illustrated  by  Katherine  Southwick 

brothers  were  in  a  combine  against  him, 
being  either  actively  aggressive  or 
wholly  indifferent.  They  involved 
him  in  frequent  games  of  wrestling 
and  "rough-house"  wherein  poor  John, 
not  knowing  the  strength  of  his  bear- 


I    A  MAN  S  VOICE,  AND  BUILT 
FOR  ALL  TIME 


hugs,  always  sent  a  few  of  them  off 
howling  to  their  mother  for  redress  of 
grievances  where,  let  it  be  said,  their 
wrongs  were  promptly  and  perem|)tori- 
ly  righted,  for  my  sister-in-law  never 
handled    any    of    them    with    gloves. 


She,  also,  having  no  understanding  of 
John's  manly  nature,  was  pitted 
against  him.  Her  attitude  was  very 
much  like  that  of  a  hen  who,  having 
hatched  a  duckling,  watches  him  dis- 
port himself  about  the  pond,  some- 
times with  astonishment,  but  often 
with  disgust. 

On   the  other   hand,  John  was 
his  father's  favorite  and  the  "apple 
of  the  eye"  to  all   the  servants  in 
the  house.  Susan,  the  colored  nurse, 
loved  him  so  much  that  it  was  all 
her  soft  southern  duplicity  could 
compass,    to    appear    to    care    as 
much  for  any  of  the  others.     It 
was   she    who    had    dubbed    him 
"Little  Sir"  in  the  days  when  his 
manly  voice  had  first  declared  itself 
in     baby    crows,   and    since    that 
time,  the    name,    being   apt,    had 
been    adopted    by  all  the  family. 
On  his  part,  John  loved  every  one 
on  the  place;  he  adored  his  mother 
and  studied  ways  of  pleasing  her; 
he  loved   his  father,  his  brothers, 
the  servants  and  all  the  delivery 
men  that  came  to  the  house;  his 
heart   like   his    large    frame,    was 
built  on  generous  lines  and  greatly 
overstocked  with  kindly  impulses. 
John    and     I    had    been     good 
friends,  almost  from  the  moment 
of  my  arrival,  but  I  soon  learned 
that,  in  order  to  hold  his  regard, 
I     must     treat    him    as    an      equal, 
seeing     how     seriously     he     felt     his 
relation    to    the    world    and    his  dig- 
nity  as  a   man;   but   it  was  not  until 
I  presented  him  with  a  linen  marble 
bag,    embellished    by    hand    with    a 


Cotytiiht  I9U    ky  Ih,  VANDERHOOF-CUNN  COMPAN  Y.  LTD.     AU  rlthu  rmntd. 


ISS 


166 

flaming  red  "John,"  that  he  became  my 
knight-errant  and  sworn  defender. 

I  gave  him  this  one  morning  when 
his  mother  had  gone  to  the  city,  think- 
ing he  could  then  enjoy  his  marbles 
without  restraint  all  day,  for  his 
mother  had  a  very  righteous  aversion 
to  marbles  in  any  form,  and  never 
encouraged  even  the  eldest  in  playing 
with  them.  She  was  a  Mothers'  Club 
enthusiast  and  the  Mothers'  Club  had 
put  its  seal  of  disapproval  on  "marbles 
for  keeps."  The  fact  is,  she  was  so 
fearful  of  some  temptation  to  that 
highly  criminal  practice,  that  she 
could  scarcely  tolerate  marbles  in  the 
house  at  all,  so  that  when  John's 
grandmother  at  Christmas  time  had 
sent  him  two  dozen  beautiful  ones, — 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

assorted  shooters,  dull  agates,  and 
bowlers  with  sparkling  fairy  dreams 
inside,  all  studded  with  mysterious 
jewels  and  shot  through  with  bubbling 
facets  of  light,  his  mother  had  refused 
to  make  him  a  bag  for  them,  on  the 
ground  that  he  was  too  young  to  play 
marbles.  Therefore,  John  was  not 
what  you  would  call  a  marble  expert  at 
the  time  of  this  story,  for  the  very 
good  reason  that,  when  all  the  school 
boys  were  playing  marbles  at  recess, 
his  marbles  were  safe  at  home. 

Accordingly,  John  was  more  than 
properly  pleased  with  the  marble  bag; 
he  chuckled  and  fairly  wriggled  with 
delight,  for  whatever  success  he  may 
have  had  in  concealing  his  injured 
feelings,  certain  it  was,  he  could  never 


I  WATCHED  HIM  FOR  A  MOMENT,  UNSEE.V,  HOPING  TO  GET  SOME  CLUE  TO  HIS  GRIEF,  FOR  I  KNEW  IF  THE 
MATTER  COMPROMISED  ANYONE,  JOHN^OULD  TELL  NOTHING 


hide  his  joy  from  the  world.  He 
simply  overflowed  with  gratitude  and 
generosity  and  went  about  all  morning, 
performing  acts  of  kindness  for  every- 
one and  hunting  odd  jobs  to  relieve 
people.  At  one  time,  I  saw  him  from 
the  window,  puffing  and  blowing  in 
the  wake  of  a  large  wheel-barrow  which 
he  was  trundling  for  the  gardener,  his 
cheeks  pouching  like  red  apples  and 
his  side  pocket  bulging  with  mar- 
bles. 

Several  times  the  older  boys  tried 
to  get  him  to  "come  on  and  play"  a 
game  of  marbles,  but  John,  knowing 
the  incompetency  of  his  little  fat 
fingers,  refused  to  do  it;  perhaps  he 
also  had  a  lurking  fear  of  "marbles  for 
keeps"  for  he  did  not  swerve  from  his 
purpose. 

When  lunch  time  came,  John  was 
not  to  be  found  and,  as  I  went  out  in 
the  kitchen  to  inquire,  I  heard  his 
labored  breathing  on  the  basement 
stairs,  interspersed  by  heavy  thuds. 
I  opened  the  stair-door  and  there  he 
was,  puffing  up  the  steps  with  a  hod  of 
coal,  so  heavy  that  he  had  to  set  it 
down  in  periods,  to  get  his  wind.  Big 
Martha,  over  by  the  stove,  was  show- 
ing all  her  white  teeth  and  reaching 
out  a  black  arm  for  the  coal.  And 
"Little  Sir"  ?  Why,  he  was  still  trans- 
posing that  marble  bag  into  terms  of 
endless  joy  and  good  will. 

"Let  me  help  you,  John,"  I  said, 
reaching  down  from  the  top  of  the 
steps  to  give  him  a  lift. 

"Naw,"  he  answered,  between  puffs. 
"You  can't." 

"But  why,  John  ?"  I  insisted,  still 
reaching  for  the  handle. 

"'Cause  you're  a  lady,  aren't  you  ?" 
he  asked  laboriously,  as  he  made  the 
final  effort  and  landed  the  huge  thing 
with  a  thud  on  the  floor. 

I  laughed.  "Why  do  you  ask  that, 
young   sir  ?" 

"Well,"  he  said,  throwing  back  his 
broad  shoulders  and  digging  a  hand 
into  his  sweaty  curls,  "you  see,  I  got 
fooled  on  that  once;  I  thought  my 
Auntie  Tot  was  one,  'cause  you  know, 
she  wears  long  dresses  and  got  married, 
but  once  I  heard  mother  say  she  was 
only  a  kid." 

"Well,  John,  I  think,  perhaps,  I  am 
only  a  kid,  too, — a  twenty  year  old 
kid,  so  let's  lift  this  scuttle  over  to  the 
stove  together  and  then  eat  our  lunch. 
What  do  you  say  ?" 

John  ate  like  a  farm-hand  while 
Jerry  and  Bud,  who  had  played  all 
morning,  ate  scarcely  anything  but 
dessert.  John's  bulging  pocket  had  a 
great  attraction  for  them  both.  They 
wanted  to  see  his  marble  bag  again 
and  they  had  forgotten  just  how  some 
of  his  marbles  looked.  Did  he  or 
didn't  he  have  a  red  agate  bowler,  and 
they  didn't  believe  he  had  any  shooters 
at  all.     John  ate  his  long  deliberate 


dinner  with  few  words  of  mouth  and 
his  marbles  still  in  his  pocket. 

After  lunch,  I  went  upstairs  for  my 
nap  and,  afterwards,  seeing  that  all 
was  quiet,  I  concluded  to  write  some 
letters.  When  I  dressed  and  went  to 
the  yard,  late  in  the  afternoon,  Susan 
was  just  returning  from  her  walk  with 
the  small  team;  Bud  and  Jerry  were 
sheepishly  counting  something  under 
a  tree  and  John  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

"Where  is  John  ?"  I  asked  with  a 
sudden  premonition. 

"Went  off  down  the  road,  I  guess," 
was  the  answer  of  one  of  the  boys. 

I  hurried  down  the  path  and  on  to 
the  road,  looking  in  both  directions, 
but  there  was  no  boy  in  sight.  I 
walked  on  down  the  road,  remember- 
ing where  we  had  picked  trilliums  the 
day  before  and  thinking,  perhaps, 
John  would  be  there,  gathering  the 
flowers  for  me  that  I  liked,  and  thereby 
expressing  some  more  of  the  fervent 
thanks  to  the  adorable  world  that 
gives  friends  and  marble  bags  to  little 
boys. 

There  was  no  boy.  I  walked  through 
the  thick  tangles  of  trillium  where  the 
sunlight  filtered  through  the  lace-work 
of  the  sparse  May  leaves,  making  the 
same  delicate  tracery  on  my  dress  and 
the  backs  of  my  hands  that  had  so 
delighted  John,  the  day  before.  But 
was  there  not  something  besides  the 
sprightly  stillness  of  the  May  woods  ? 
Following  the  direction  of  a  sound,  I 
heard  distressing  labored  sobs  like 
those  of  a  strong  man  in  anguish  and 
saw,  sitting  down  among  the  shoots  of 
a  little  wooded  copse,  John  the  manly, 
whose  morning  joy  had  overflowed  his 
generous  heart  and  gone,  spilling  itself 
about  the  earth  at  random.  His  face 
was  buried  in  his  drawn-up  knees,  but 
every  deep  sigh  of  his  fat  little  body 
forced  them  apart,  exposing  the  swollen 
eyes  where  tears  and  dirty  hands  had 
done  sad  work.  I  watched  him  for  a 
moment,  unseen,  hoping  to  get  some 
clue  to  his  grief,  for  I  knew  that  if  the 
matter  compromised  any  one  John 
would  tell  nothing.  After  a  while  he 
sat  up  listlessly,  rubbed  his  eyes  as  if 
to  clear  his  vision,  and  looked  at  some- 
thing light  spread  over  his  black 
stocking.  "Was  it  a  wrap  or  blanket," 
I  asked  myself.  But  no,  he  was 
stroking  it  with  infinite  tenderness  and 
sorrow.  Ah  !  Perhaps  his  little 
bunny  was  dead.  As  I  moved  a  step 
in  my  anxiety,  I  cracked  a  branch 
which  caused  him  to  look  up  quickly, 
but  not  before  I  saw  the  limp  and 
empty  marble  bag  with  its  four  gay 
letters,  flattened  pitifully  across  his 
legs.  He  whisked  it  into  his  pocket 
and  scrambled  to  his  feet,  his  eyes 
riveted  on  the  ground. 

"John,"  I  said,  in  the  impressive 
silence.  "Little  Sir,  it  was  marblea  for 
keeps,  wasn't  it  ?" 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"Well,"  he  was  sobbing,  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  and  trying  by  repeated 
swallowings,  to  control  his  six  years  of 
unimpeachable  manhood.  "The  kids 
said  I  was — " 

"Was  what,  John  ?"  I  asked  eagerly. 


167 

They  had  been  gambling, — her  chil- 
dren !  She  lined  them  up  in  a  hasty 
tribunal  and  would  have  taken  every 
marble  they  had  for  all  time  if  Ilhad 
not  besought  her  not  to  do  it.  As  it 
was,  she  read  them  a  sharp  lecture  on 


iOU.S  CAREFULLY  EMPTIED  HIS  UASBLES  ON  THE  BED  07  ONE  OP  TUB  SLEEPING  ROGUES,  AND  COUNTED 
THEM  OFF  CAREFULLY,  WITH  INTERMITTENT  SOBS.  INTO  THE  YAWNING 
BAGS  UNTIL  THEY  WERE  ALL  CONE 


"Why,  they  thought  I  ought  to  play 
marbles  i-if  I  was  g-going  to  h-ave 
any." 

I  made  no  answer  and,  after  a  pain- 
ful silence,  he  went  on,  "I  didn't  wanj 
t-to  be  stingy  and  a  c-coward, 
did   I  ?" 

Ah!  There  was  the  cat  out  of  the 
bag  and  gone.  The  brothers  knew 
too  well  how  to  turn  his  nobility  of 
heart  to  good  account. 

It  was  not  for  me  to  settle  the  little 
affairs  of  the  children  and  I  told  John, 
with  secret  misgivings,  to  leave  it  all 
to  Mother.  After  that,,  we  trudged 
along  in  silence  through  the  spring 
woods  and  down  the  road,  I  covertly 
watching  his  adorable  baby  nose  and 
upper  lip  and  the  pitiful  quiver  of  the 
lower  one.  I  longed  to  take  him  in 
my  arms  and  let  him  cry  it  out  like 
any  other  six  year  old,  but  his  manly 
dignity  forbade. 

When  my  sister-in-law  appeared, 
tired  from  a  day  of  shopping,  she  was 
vexed  beyond  description.  She  had  a 
strong  bustling  Puritanical  sense  of 
right, — the  kind  that  whips  a  child 
because   he   doesn't   say   his   prayers. 


the  criminal  course  of  the  gambler  and 
the  drunkard,  redivided  the  marbles 
as  they  had  been  before,  and  sent 
them  all  to  bed  without  their  supper. 
The  affair  was  settled  and  the  boys 
were  leaving  the  room. 

"That's  what  comes  of  allowing 
John  to  have  marbles,"  remarked  my 
sister-in-law  in  conclusion,  using  her 
woman's  prerogative  of  adding  to  a 
climax.     "There's  the  whole  trouble." 

In  some  way,  it  had  all  worked  out 
so  that  John  felt  the  burden  of  the 
punishment.  The  two  eldest  went 
simpering  to  undress  in  the  easy 
security  of  mutual  sympathy;  but 
John  left  the  room  alone  by  another 
door,  his  round  eyes  dilated  with 
seriousness  and  deep  injury  written 
on  his  square  back.  One  fat  hand, 
again  held  that  funny  pouching  bag  of 
marbles,  but,  apparently,  they  had 
lost  the  power  to  transmit  joy  to  his 
braia  or  he  had  turned  philosopher 
at  the  age  of  six,  and  counted  them  all 
as  vanity. 

I  ate  scarcely  anything  that  night 
for  the  thought  of  poor  "Little  Sir," 
upstairs  alone  with  a  heavy  heart,  and 


168 

undressing  for  bed,  with  his  large  cry- 
ing capacity  for  food  unappeased. 
After  dinner,  I  went  directly  to  my 
room  which  was  next  to  John's;  in 
fact,  our  beds  flanked  the  same  wall, 
so  that  each  morning  when  I  awoke,  I 
tapped  gently  for  a  signal  that  he 
could  come  in  for  his  morning  story. 
Hearing  no  sound  in  his  room,  I  stole 
in  softly  to  his  bed-side  and  found  him 
looking  at  me  with  steady  round  eyes. 

"Auntie  Bun,"  he  whispered,  to  me, 
"Mother  didn't  hear  my  prayer  to- 
night.    Will  you  hear  it  for  me  ?" 

Coming  from  John,  this  was  very 
flattering  and  I  sat  down  on  his  bed- 
side that  I  might  hear  him  better. 
But  he  extricated  himself  from  the 
warm  covers,  (and  it  was  a  cold  night, 
with  the  windows  all  wide  open)  knelt 
at  my  feet,  plump  on  the  cold  bare 
floor  that  bordered  the  room,  and 
before  I  could  interpose,  began  his 
little  "Jesus,  tender  Shepherd,"  with- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

out  a  shiver.  This  done,  he  gave  me 
a  perfunctory  kiss  on  the  cheek  and 
crawled  back  int(j  bed  with  as  solemn  a 
face  as  I  ever  saw. 

"Don't  go  to  sleep  just  yet,  John, 
because  I  want  to  go  downstairs  and 
ask  Mother  if  you  mayn't  have  a  wee 
bit  of  graham  cracker  (you  know,  you 
brought  a  box  of  them  to  my  room  the 
other  day)  and  I'll  bring  you  up  a 
glass  of  milk.  His  honest  eyes  made 
me  ashamed. 

"No,"  he  said,  in  a  whisper,  "I  think 
I'll  go  to  sleep  now." 

It  was  hard  to  leave  him  like  that. 
I  made  another  desperate  effort  to  get 
nearer  to  him:  "Aren't  you  glad  you 
got  your  marbles  back,  John  ?"  I  asked 
the  sad  little  face,  rising  like  a  wet 
moon  from  the  covers. 

He  shook  his  head  with  finality  and 
turned  over  on  his  side.  I  stooped 
and  kissed  him  tenderly,  and  left  the 
room.     As   I   closed   the  door,   I   saw 


the  mooted  marble  bag  hanging  on 
the  foot  of  his  bed,  after  the  custom 
set  by  Bud  and  Jerry  who  hung  their 
marbles  on  their  bed-posts  every  night. 
John  was  spending  his  first  night  with 
this  undisputed  symbol  of  property 
and  power,  but  he  fouhd  no  pleasure 
in  it. 

I  went  back  to  my  room  with  a 
heavy  heart,  when  I  heard  Bud  and 
Jerry  careering  about  their  room  in 
bare  feet  and  having  a  high  old  time. 
On  opening  their  door  to  quiet  them,  I 
was  astonished  to  see  they  were  just 
finishing  a  box  of  Uneeda  biscuits  which 
they  had  slipped  up  the  back  stairs 
from  the  butler's  pantry.  I  went 
back  to  my  room  once  more.  "Ah 
me  !"  said  I,  to  myself.  "Spinster- 
hood  has  its  compensations." 

An  hour  later  the  boys  became  quiet, 
but  I  could  hear  John  turning  about  in 
his  bed,  and  then,  the  faint  lifting  of 
Continued  on  page  225. 


Practical  Idealists 

HOW  ONE  MAN  WITH  A  DREAM  AND  A  CARD  INDEXFUL  OF  FACTS  FOUNDED 
THE  CANADIAN  WELFARE  LEAGUE  AND  WHAT  IT  OUGHT  TO  MEAN 
TO  CANADIAN  MEN,  WOMEN  AND  MUNICIPALITIES 

By  Lillian  Beynon  Thomas 


PRACTICAL  idealism  is  a  para- 
dox, in  the  popular  conception. 
To  the  man  in  the  street,  an 
idealist  is  a  person  with  a  Wind- 
sor tie,  a  soul  above  money,  and  the 
need  of  a  hair-cut.  Pigs  may  possess 
ruffled  shirts,  geese  quack  answers  to 
catechisms,  but  in  his  opinion  an 
idealist  never  can,  does,  or  will  have 
any  conception  of  practical  things. 

The  growth  of  the  profession  of 
social  service  has  knocked  that  notion 
into  a  cocked  hat.  The  new  idealist 
is  more  likely  than  not  a  keen-eyed, 
clean-shaven  little  man,  intrenched 
behind  an  orderly  desk,  flanked  with  a 
severe  card-index,  and  armed  with 
facts  and  figures  of  the  hardest  variety. 
Dispute  his  theories,  and  he  produces 
a  bushel  of  sworn  instances  of  their 
successful  working  out.  Question  his 
plans,  and  he  deluges  you  with  tabula- 
tions of  five  hundred  similar  typical 
cases.  Controvert  his  statements,  and 
he  swamps  you  with  statistics  compiled 
from  his  card-index  that  begins  with 
Anderson,  Aal,  and  runs  to  Zywicki, 
Wladyslaw.  He  may  start  his  organi- 
zation with  a  shoestring,  and  have  the 
half  of  a  hope  for  a  pillow  at  night,  in 
the  earlier  years  of  its  existence;  but 


at  no  time  in  all  his  business  life  has 
he  been  anything  but  a  trained  practi- 
cal man  with  an  exact  idea  of  precisely 
what  he  is  working  to  do  and  how  he 
intends  to  accomplish  it. 

Practical  idealists,  with  the  accent 
on  the  "practical"  are  what  the 
members  of  the  Canadian  Welfare 
League  call  themselves,  and  although 
the  movement  that  they  have  organized 
is  based  on  a  vision  of  a  greater  and 
better  Canada,  it  is  a  thorough-going 
business  concern.  It  was  founded  in 
September  of  last  year,  at  the  annual 
conference  of  the  Canadian  Association 
of  Charities  and  Correction,  held  in 
Winnipeg — founded  on   the  dream   of 


one  man. 


How  the  Welfare  League  is  working 
out  the  new  statesmanship 

If  ever  a  poet's  words  came  true, 
that  "one  man  with  a  dream  at  pleasure 
shall  go  forth  and  conquer  a  town," 
they  did  with  the  founding  of  the 
Canadian  Welfare  League.  One  man's 
dream  went  forth  and  conquered  the 
practical  prairie  city  of  Winnipeg— a 
dream  that  fired  the  imagination  and 


inspired  the  co-operation  of  earnest 
Canadian  citizens.  Already,  leading 
men  and  women  in  every  province  of 
Canada  are  on  the  League's  council. 
Already  they  are  reaching  out  to  join 
eager  hands  with  all  who  will  help  to 
fulfil  one  of  the  most  statesmanlike 
endeavors  that  ever  sprung  from  the 
brain  of  a  patriotic  people.  Practical 
idealists,  they  are  grappling  with  the 
problems  now  confronting  Canadians, 
in  both  east  and  west,  and  oflfering 
themselves  for  service  in  the  ranks  of 
the  new  statesmanship. 

It  is  no  small  task  that  the  Canadian 
Welfare  League  has  taken  up,  and  to 
any  man  with  less  zeal  that  J.  S.  Woods- 
worth,  the  secretar\^  and  founder,  it 
might  well  seem  overwhelming.  He  is 
a  trained  social  service  worker,  with 
years  of  experience  among  immigrants. 
In  the  process  of  his  work,  he  has  made 
discoveries  and  evolved  ideas.  Certain 
things,  in  his  opinion,  must  be  done  at 
once,  if  the  Canada  of  the  future  is 
even  to  approximate  the  Canada  of 
which  we  Canadians  dream. 

Recently    a    prominent    man    said,      '' 
"We  are  always  talking  about  Canada's 
melting    pot.     But    what    I    want    to 
know  is,  when  it  is  going  to  melt  ?" 


And  that  is  the  question  which  Mr. 
W'oodsworth  asked  himself  when  he 
travelled  up  and  down  the  Dominion 
in  the  interests  of  the  immigration 
work,  and  found  each  city,  each  dis- 
trict, each  isolated  community,  strug- 
gling with  its  own  problems,  or  drifting 
along  and  letting  the  problems  solve — 
or  remain  unsolved  —  themselves. 
Towns,  like  the  immortal  Topsy, 
"just  growed."  Municipal  activities 
were  placed  in  the  charge  of  untrained 
men,  elected  haphazard;  sometimes 
honest  and  intelligent,  sometimes  not; 
sometimes  broad-minded  and  progres- 
sive, sometimes  uneducated,  narrow 
and  bigoted. 

^  m  ss 

How  OUT  municipalities  make  a 
joke  of  themselves 

The  distances  between  town  and 
town  are  great.  Practically  ever\'  city 
and  every  district  has  had  to  begin  at 
the  bottom  to  work  out  its  problems, 
without  benefitting  by  the  experience 
of  other  districts  or  cities  that  have 
solved  partially  or  wholly  the  particu- 
lar problems  under  which  it  labors. 

Looking  at  the  situation  with  a  dis- 
passionate eye,  it  is  ridiculous.  Im- 
agine a  business  man  starting  to  organ- 
ize his  private  business  in  such  a  way — 
for  instance,  a  prospective  lumberman 
going  into  the  lumber  business  without 
any  knowledge  of  the  different  w(K)ds. 
Imagine  him  selecting  a  blacksmith 
for  his  foreman,  a  plumber  for  his 
book-keeper,  an  interior  decorator  for 
his  engineer  and  a  butcher  for  his  yard- 
boss.  Furthermore,  imagine  him  pay- 
ing them  a  nominal  salary,  and  expect- 
ing them  to  earn  their  own  living  at 
their  own  vocations,  incidentally  doing 
his  work  in  occasional  off-times  and 
evenings.  Yet  that  is  an  absolutely 
fair  parallel  of  the  way  thousands  of 
municipalities  are  officered.  Suppose, 
further,  that  if  his  business  survived 
a  year's  operation  under  such  condi- 
tions, at  the  end  of  the  twelve-month 
he  fired  the  whole  kit  and  cabcxxile  of 
emj)l()yees  and  took  on  another  set, 
eciually  ignorant  of  the  basic  principles 
of  lumbering.  Yet  once  a  year,  the 
officers  of  municipalities  are  returned 
to  private  life  and  a  new  set  elected — 
some  of  the  experienced  officers  per- 
haps being  re-elected,  but  a  number  of 
new  men  assuredly  coming  in,  to  learn 
their  job  by  making  mistakes  at  it. 
It  would  be  laughable,  if  it  were  not  so 
pathetic. 

Now  the  science  of  community  build- 
ing has  develoi)ed  in  recent  years  to  an 
almost  mathematical  accuracy.  The 
laws  governing  it  are  known  and  have 
been  applied  successfully  to  new  com- 
munities and  old  ones  that  needed 
remodelling.  The  mistakes  of  hun- 
dreds of  years  have  been  noted  and 
redeemed.     There  is  no  reason  for  any 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

town  starting  \^ng — except  ignor- 
ance. And  that  ignorance  is  what  the 
Canadian  Welfare  league  has  been 
organized  to  overcome.  "The  welfare 
of  each  is  the  concern  of  all,"  say  the 
practical  idealists  who  compose  it. 
"Canada's  development  depends  on 
each  individual  district,  village,  town 
and  city,  and  we  cannot  afford  to  let 
any  one  of  them  fall  behind." 

To  create  a  sort  of  college  of  com- 
munity building,  is  the  purpose  of  the 
Canadian  Welfare  League.  At  their 
headquarters  (Room  10,  Industrial 
Bureau,  Winnipeg)  they  are  establish- 
ing a  centre  for  all  sorts  of  municipal 
welfare  information, — perhaps,  rather 
than  a  college,  one  should  call  it  a 
correspondence  school. 

Does  a  city  wish  to  frame  the  best 
laws  regarding  building  restriction  ? 
It  may  apply  to  the  League,  and  find 
out  exactly  what  other  cities  have  done, 
and  what  has  been  found  most  success- 
ful. 

Does  a  city  wish  to  take  up  seriously 
the  problem  of  better  housing  ? — to 
excise  a  slum  quarter  in  its  heart,  or 
improve  the  Hving  conditions  of  its 
workingmen  ?  It  may  secure  from  the 
League  full  information  as  to  what 
Toronto,  New  York,  Bristol  or  Paris 
have  already  accomplished. 

S3  mm 

Basing  philanthropy  on  justice 
instead  of  charity 

Has  a  city  a  foreign  section  where 
eighteen  Bulgarians  may  sleep  in  one 
room  with  every  window  tight-closed, 
and  an  atmosphere  that  one  could  stir 
with  a  spoon — or  where  the  infant 
mortality  rate  in  August  is  55% — or 
where  the  visiting  nurse  reports  tuber- 
culosis in  every  fifth  family  in  a  certain 
block?  Churches  and  benevolent 
societies  are  pecking  at  these  problems 
with  a  certain  amount  of  result,  but  it 
is  really  the  city's  place  to  handle 
them.  To  quote  from  Mr.  Woods- 
worth's  lxx)klet: 

"In  almost  every  city,  charitable 
institutions  arc  multiplying.  Un- 
organized, they  are  wasteful  and  usually 
inefficient.  Further,  they  often  do 
little  or  nothing  to  discover  the 
causes  of  the  evils,  many  of  which  are 
really  preventable.  Many  cities  have 
been  able  to  organize  their  philan- 
thropy on  a  business  basis.  Some  are 
initiating  movements  which  are  sub- 
stituting justice  for  charity.  This 
is  not  mere  sentiment.  It  is  common 
.sense.  Practical  idealism,  if  you  will. 
We  can  tell  you  along  what  lines  other 
cities  are  working." 

There  you  are  again — practical  ideal- 
ism. Justice,  not  charity.  The  square 
deal  owed  by  a  municipality  to  its 
citizens.     Philanthropy  made  to  pay. 

Again,  take  the  matter  of  municipal 
sanitation    and    pure    water    supply. 


169 

The  city  of  Chicago  spent  fifty  years 
and  many  millions  of  dollars  in  making 
mistakes  on  this  subject.  It  was  not 
until  1892  that  it  really  started  to  dig 
its  sanitary  canal,  and  in  the  previous 
year  it  had  the  highest  typhoid  death 
rate  of  any  city  in  the  world — 173.8 
per  100,000  population. 

@  @  8S 

Saving  the  lives  of  over  7,000 

citizens  in  nine  years 

Plenty  of  good  citizens  couldn't  see 
any  use  in  the  sanitary  canal.  They 
had  always  dumped  their  sewage  In 
the  lake,  and  always  got  their  drinking 
water  from  the  same  place.  What 
was  good  enough  for  their  fathers,  was 
good  enough  for  them,  and  typhoid 
was  a  visitation  of  God. 

However,  the  drills  and  pumps  and 
shovels  went  on  working,  and  the 
typhoid  death-rate  went  on  flourishing. 
For  the  nine  years  before  the  canal 
was  thrown  open,  the  average  was 
64.1  per  100,000  population.  Acute 
intestinal  diseases  also  did  a  thrifty 
business  for  the  undertakers.  Both 
result  from  impure  water  supply. 

Nine  years  after  the  sanitary  canal 
was  opened,  the  average  typhoid 
death  rate  for  1900-1908  had  dropped 
to  23.5  per  100,000  of  population.  In 
other  words,  if  Chicago  people  had 
kept  on  getting  typhoid  and  dying 
from  it  at  the  rate  that  existed  during 
the  nine  pre-channel  years,  the  city 
would  have  lost  11,148  victims,  or 
7,127  more  than  those  it  actually  lost 
in  the  period. 

Think  whav  might  have  been  saved 
to  the  city  if  it  could  have  profited  by 
the  experience  of  other  cities  fifty 
years — or  thirty,  or  twenty  years — 
earlier.  In  19C0,  its  death  rate  was 
60%  less  than  it  was  in  1870. 

There  are  plenty  of  municipalities 
in  Canada  which  to-day  know  no  more 
how  to  handle  scientifically  the  prob- 
lems of  sanitation  and  .  water  supply 
than  Cliicago  did  in  1892.  How  much 
would  it  help  them  to  be  able  to  secure 
from  the  Canadian  Welfare  League  full 
information  as  to  what  Chicago,  or 
Toronto,  or  New  York  have  worked 
out,  at  an  expense  of  thousands  of 
dollars  and  thousands  of  lives  ? 
Humanity's  mistakes  too  often  are 
charged  to  God. 

Perhaps  it  may  seem  rather  unlialter- 
ing  to  say  that  our  po|)ulation  does  not 
know  how  to  live  in  cities.  Neverthe- 
less, it  is  quite  true.  Our  people  to-day 
are  moving  from  the  country  to  the 
city.  Many  are  writing  and  sjieaking 
with  dread  and  fear  of  the  results  that 
will  a)me  from  this  migration,  but 
while  they  are  writing  and  protesting, 
the  population  is  steadily  changing 
from  an  agricultural  to  an  urban  com- 
munity. The  unfortunate  thing  is 
C-mtiniitxl  on  |x<gi'  213. 


Seth  Snow's  First  Sermon 


By  Mary  E.  Wilkins  Freeman 


"SETH  HE  WILL  RING  THAT  OLD  CRACKED  BELL  EVERY  SUNDAY,  AND  GET  HLMSELF  UP  READY  TO 
PREACH       .       .      .       it's  been  'MOST  TWENTY  YEARS      .      .      .      HE'S  AN  OLD  MAN  NOW" 


IT  was  blisteringly  hot  in  Snow  Hill. 
The  beetling  elevation  from  which 
the  little  village  had  its  name  shel- 
tered it  from  any  cooling  breeze 
which  might  blow  from  the  east  and 
the  sea,  and  when  the  afternoon  sun 
blazed  from  the  west,  the  heat-waves 
were  echoed  back  from  the  broad 
bosom  of  Snow  Hill.  Two  men  who 
sat  on  the  bench  in  front  of  Dyce's 
grocery  store  were  discussing  it. 

"Yes,"  said  one,  Sam  Dyce,  the 
store-keeper,  "that  damned  hill  that 
they  say  holds  the  snow  longer  than 
any  mountain  in  these  parts  in  the 
spring,  makes  this  whole  place  hotter 
than  tophet,  summers." 

Sam  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  and  his 
suspenders,  which  his  daughter  Daisy 
had  embroidered  with  rosebuds,  were 
in  evidence.  He  had  removed  his 
collar,  and  his  long  stringy  throat 
showed.  Sam  was  Yankee  from  'way 
back.  He  was  Yankee  from  head  to 
toe,  and  that  meant  a  goodly  length  of 
Yankee,  for  he  was  over  six  feet  tall. 
He  kept  his  country  store  in  the  fear 
jf  the  Lord  and  the  determination  of 
profit. 

He  was  constant  in  attendance  at 
the  church  in  Snow  Center,  three  miles 
away.  He  was  a  deacon,  and  super- 
intendent of  the  Sunday  school.  He 
was    well-to-do.     He    had    remodeled 

170 


the  old  Dyce  homestead.  It  had  bay 
windows,  a  double  colonial  piazza, 
and  a  front  yard  designed  by  a  land- 
scape gardener.  His  wife  kept  two 
maids,  and  every  spring  she  and  her 
daughter  went  on  an  excursion. 

The  daughter,  Daisy,  had  been  away 
to  school,  and  her  father  had  bought 
an  electric  victoria  for  her.  She  was  a 
pretty  girl,  very  sweet-tempered,  and 
not  in  the  least  above  her  father  and 
his  store.  Some  Saturday  nights  when 
there  was  a  rush  of  customers,  she 
came  over  and  helped  at  the  dry  goods 
counter.  It  was  there  the  other  man 
had  first  seen  her.  He  had  been  motor- 
ing; his  car  had  broken  down  and  he 
had  stepped  into  the  store  in  search  of 
a  supper  of  bread  and  cheese.  Sam 
had  sent  him  to  his  remodeled  mansion 
where  he  had  feasted,  and  finally,  as 
the  car  was  still  balky,  remained  over 
night,  quarters  being  pro'vided  for  his 
chauffeur.  The  car  was  installed  in 
the  barn  at  the  risk  of  losing  insurance. 

Sam  was  hospitable,  although  a 
Yankee,  and  this  stranger  was  not  a 
customer,  and  of  no  earthly  financial 
use  to  him.  Sam  had  not  once  thought 
of  his  pretty  daughter,  but  her  mother 
had,  and  Daisy  had  worn  her  pink  and 
white  dress  at  breakfast  next  morning. 

The  stranger  came  again.  He  was 
an   odd,    incidental   sort   of   man,    not 


Illustrated  by 

F.  L.  Stoddard 


very  young,  seemingly  rather  aimless, 
or  uncertain  concerning  his  aims. 
Daisy  had  fallen  in  love  with  him  but 
nobody  knew  whether  he  had  fallen 
in  love  with  Daisy  or  not.  Sam, 
prodded  by  his  wife,  had  found  out 
what  little  there  was  to  know  about 
him. 

His  name  was  Weston,  Lee  Weston. 
He  was  a  bachelor  and  his  reputation 
was  exceedingly  good.  He  was  much 
sought  by  society  people,  but  hung 
aloof  in  the  lazy,  courteous  fashion 
which  he  had  inherited  from  a  Southern 
grandmother  who  had  been  a  Lee. 
He  lived  alone  with  servants  and  an 
old  housekeeper,  and  his  house  was 
said  to  be  a  museum  of  art. 

That  Sam  Dyce  regarded  as  distinct- 
ly not  in  his  favor.  Sam  scorned  art 
in  spite  of  his  rosebud  suspenders.  He 
did  not  in  reality  care  for  them,  but 
Daisy  had  worked  them,  they  were 
her  first  embroidery,  and  Sam  did  care 
for  his  Daisy.  He  liked  the  other 
man  well  enough.  He  would  have 
preferred  Daisy  to  marry  a  man  of 
Snow  Hill  or  Snow  Center,  but  Lee 
Weston,  regarded  as  a  possible  son- 
in-law,  did  not  overawe  Sam  Dyce. 
A  prince  of  the  blood  could  not  have 
done  that.  He  scarcely  saw  Weston's 
immaculate  summer  attire  and  the 
determined  crease  of  his  trousers,  and 
was  perfectly  unconscious  of  his  own 
shirt-sleeves. 

All  that  troubled  him  was  the  fact 
that  Weston  had  come  and  come,  and 
put  up  his  touring  car  in  his  barn,  and 
as  yet  his  intentions  regarding  Daisy 
were  doubtful.  Now  another  man 
wanted  her,  and  Daisy  was  urged  by 
her  mother  that  a  bird  in  the  hand — 
Sam's  wife  was  so  set  of  mind  that 
affairs  at  home  were  becoming  strenu- 
ous, and  poor  Daisy  was  unhappy. 

Now  Sam  was  very  uncertain 
whether  Weston  would  be  well  received 
by  his  wife,  since  the  other  man  had 
come  to  board  for  the  summer  next 
door,  at  Mrs.  Eliza  Angel's,  and  was 
courting  Daisy  assiduously  and  had 
acquired  favor  in  the  eyes  of  her 
mother.  He  was  much  younger  than 
Weston,  and  very  handsome,  and  the 
covert  air  of  high  breeding  which  Sam's 
wife's  acute  feminine  eye  had  dis- 
cerned in  Weston  was  not  evident  in 
the  newcomer. 

"He  don't  put  on  airs,"  she  said  of 


I 


Weston,  "but  he's  got  them,  and  I 
don't  like  to  feel  that  my  own  daughter 
is  marrying  a  man  that  knows  he's 
above  her  pa  and  ma,  even  if  you  want 
her  to." 

"Weston  don't  act  a  mite  stuck  up," 
Sam  had  retorted. 

"He's  up  so  high  he  don't  need  to 
act,"  said  the  woman.  "The  other 
one  is  just  as  good,  and  well  brought 
up,  but  he's  on  the  same  rung  of  the 
ladder  as  we  are." 

"Well,  they'll  have  to  settle  it," 
said  Sam. 

In  the  lower  depths  of  his  mind  he 
was  revolving  the  matter  as  he  and 
Weston  sat  on  the  bench.  The  silent 
car  stood  glittering  painfully  in  the 
road,  brilliant  with  scorching  dust. 
The  chauffeur  was  in  the  store,  sound 
asleep  in  a  chair.  Daisy  and  her 
mother  had  gone  to  Snow  Center 
visiting,  in  the  little  electric  victoria, 
and  Sam  was  entertaining. 

"Arabella  always  leaves  the  key 
under  the  front  door  mat,  and  you  can 
go  to  the  house  and  wash  and  make 
yourself  to  home,  if  you  want  to,"  he 
had  said.  "The  hired  girls  ain't  there. 
One  has  her  afternoon  off— blamed  fool- 
ishness, paid  seventeen  dollars  a  month 
^and  the  other  has  gone  berrying." 

But  Weston  had  seated  himself  on 
the  bench,  under  the  shadow  of  the 
store,  where  it  was  somewhat  cooler 
than  in  the  road,  and  Sam  had  remain- 
ed beside  him.  He  had  not  risen  when 
the  car  had  stopped.  Sam  and  his 
forbears  received  sitting  if  they  chose, 
otherwise  not;  but  always  it  was  a 
matter  of  their  own  choice. 

Possibly  that  attitude  of  Sam's 
attracted  Weston,  as  well  as  the 
innocent  charm  of  his  daughter.  He 
looked  approvingly  at  Daisy's  father, 
long  and  sinewy  and  yellow  and 
shrewd,  and  redolent  of  his  staples  in 
trade.  He  had  said  to  himself  long 
before  that  the  girl  and  her  father 
were  of  the  true  blue  blood  that 
recognizes  no  necessity  of  asserting  it. 

The  mother  was  of  less  degree  in 
Weston's  eyes.  In  fact,  she  was  un- 
consciously, even  to  him,  the  slight 
barrier  which  delayed  his  decision, 
leisurely  in  any  case.  She  had  been 
very  kind  to  Weston,  and  he  liked  her, 
but  the  fact  that  she  placed  him  on  a 
higher  rung  of  the  ladder  was  so 
evident  that  it  annoyed  him,  while  he 
did  not  fairly  know  it.  Weston's 
reasons  for  delay  were  very  subtle, 
and  he  was  not  fond  of  unraveling  the 
subtle,  and  the  summer  had  been  a 
very  hot  one,  not  conducive  to  strenu- 
ous mental  process.  He  had  just 
remarked  inanely  but  inevitably  upon 
the  heat,  and  Sam  had  rejoined  with 
his  statement  concerning  the  hill. 
Weston  eyed  it  lazily.  It  reared  itself 
precipitously  before  them — rather  a 
magnificent  hill,  almost  a  mountain, 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

a  g^eat  rise  of  land  covered  with  green 
almost  to  the  summit,  where  a  bare 
expanse  of  rock  shone  out  like  a 
great  jewel. 

"It's  a  beautiful  hill,"  commented 
Weston,  "but  I  should  think  it 
might  cut  off  the  wind  down  the  val- 
ley between  the  ranges  a  good  deal." 

"That's  jest  the  way  of  it,"  agreed 
Sam.  "What's  more,  it  reflects  the  sun 
right  down  on  the  village  same  as  a 
canvas  lean-to  reflects  the  heat  of  a 
camp-fire." 

"I  cannot  understand,"  remarked 
Weston  indolently,  "why  in  the  name 
of  common  sense,  since  it  was  obviously 
impossible  to  move  the  hill,  the  people, 
the  original  settlers,  could  not  have 
founded  the  village  somewhere  else." 

"That's  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your 
face,"  said  Sam.  "The  Snows  owned 
the  land,  and  when  the  Snows  owned 
anything  they  ,wanted  to  sell,  they 
sold  it.  If  they  hadn't  owned  any- 
thing but  that  ledge  of  stone  on  the 
top  of  the  hill,  they  would  have  sold 
that.  The  Snows  were  the  greatest 
family  to  make  a  trade  in  these  parts. 
Some  of  it  I've  seen  myself,  and  some 
I  used  to  hear  about  from  my  father 
and  grandfather.  The  Snows  were  as 
smart    as    whips   comin'    right    down 


171 

Straws  were  turning  him  at  this  point 
of  his  life,  and  not  much  wonder,  since 
the  point  was  unprecedented  with  him. 
Weston  had  never  thought  seriously  of 
any  woman  until  he  had  seen  that 
young  country  girl,  with  her  innocence, 
and  ignorance  which  was  not  stupidity, 
simply  the  lack  of  knowledge  of  the 
unexperienced.  Her  beauty  also  at- 
tracted him,  although  not  in  as  large 
a  sense  as  her  character,  which  seemed 
to  him  of  such  absolute  clarity  that 
it  revealed  her  own  future  self  after 
the  passing  of  years  as  a  being  even 
more  desirable  than  now. 

While  Daisy  was  pretty,  even  beauti- 
ful, her  beauty  was  of  a  small,  clear, 
almost  severe  type,  which  could  easily 
be  passed  unnoticed.  Regular,  clean- 
cut  features,  a  straight  gaze  from  dark 
blue  eyes,  little  color,  and  thick  neutral 
hair  brushed  back  smoothly  from  full 
brows,  and  a  habit  of  silence,  did  not 
tend  to  make  her  conspicuous.  Daisy 
was  called  scarcely  pretty  at  all  in  her 
native  village  of  Snow  Hill.  She  was 
admired,  however,  because  she  was 
Sam  Dyce's  daughter,  had  been  away 
to  school,  had  her  clothes  made  by  the 
most  expensive  dressmaker  in  Snow 
Center,  and  lived  in  the  handsomest 
and  largest  house  in  the  village. 


through  the  gem 
rations,  till  they 
wound  upinSeth." 
Weston  nodded. 
He  had  not  paid 
much  attention. 
He  was  thinking  re- 
gretfully that  since 
Daisy  and  her 
mother  were  away, 
he  supposed  before 
long  he  might  as 
well     go     himself. 


"sCm  TOLD  us  WK  WSRB  COMMITTINO  THB  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  rOI 
LmlNC  DAISY  CO  TO  SLKRP  IN  MRBTING 


172 

When  Guy  Bird  had  come  to  board 
at  Mrs.  Eliza  Angel's  for  the  evident 
purpose  of  courting  Daisy,  there  had 
been  much  covert  jealousy  and  nearly 
every  young  man  had  gone  to  Snow 
Center,  had  his  trousers  creased  and 
fitted  himself  out  with  shirts  and 
neckties  like  the  newcomer's.  How- 
ever, Daisy  herself  seemed  to  care  little 
for  the  young  man  next  door,  but  her 
mother  did,  and  that  was  considered 
more    than    an    equivalent. 

"Arabella  Dyce  never  yet  got  her 
mind  set  on  doing  anything  but  she 
brought  it  to  pass,"  it  was  said,  "and 
that  girl  will  marry  that  man  her  ma 
has  picked  out  for  her,  whether  she 
wants  him  or  not." 

Sam  Dyce,  who  knew  his  daughter, 
was  not  so  sure.  He  was  sorry  that 
his  women  folk  were  away  now,  for  he 
saw  the  shadow  of  a  flitting  in  the 
young  man's  eyes.  Sam  began  to 
wonder  if  he  could  not  manage  to  hold 
him,  but  he  was  no  diplomat.  While 
he  was  considering,  Weston  himself 
furnished  the  key  to  the  situation. 

"Whose  house  is  that  on  the  Lang- 
ham  road,  with  a  steeple  and  long 
windows  like  a  church  ?"  he  inquired. 
"I  notice  it  every  time  I  come,  and 
have  always  meant  to  ask  about  it, 
then  have  forgotten.  It  looks  like  a 
church,  but  it  can't  be,  for  there  was  a 
man  smoking  out  in  front,  and  there 
were  white  shades  at  the  windows,  and 
there  was  a  woman  sewing  beside  one 
of  them." 

"That,"  replied  Sam,  "is  Seth  Snow's 
house.     Ever  hear  about  Seth  ?" 

"No,"  stated  the  other,  with  only  a 
faint  show  of  interest.  It  was  very 
warm  even  in  the  lee  of  the  store. 
The  odor  of  the  stock  in  trade  was 
somewhat  irritating.  There  stood  his 
car  and  a  swift  rush  over  the  country 
would  be  more  agreeable,  and  he 
might  return  some  day  if  so  disposed. 
The  image  of  poor  Daisy  seemed  to 
waver  indistinctly,  as  if  through  waves 
of  heat.  But  Sam  Dyce  continued, 
and  his  nasal  drawl  soon  awakened 
attention. 

"Mebbe,"  said  Sam,  "if  you  haven't 
heard  of  Seth  Snow,  you'd  like  to. 
Seth,  he's  the  last  of  the  family.  He 
got  married  when  he  was  young,  and 
his  wife  died.  She  was  a  queer  sort 
anyway,  and  sometimes  I've  wondered 
if  her  queerness  wasn't  sort  of  catching, 
for  Seth,  he  never  seemed  any  queerer 
than  other  folks  when  he  was  a  young 
man,  except,  of  course,  he  was  mighty 
sharp  on  the  dollars  and  cents  and 
making  a  good  bargain,  like  all  the 
Snows.  Seth,  he'd  had  a  college 
education,  but  he  settled  down  to 
farming  and  made  considerable,  had 
enough  income  to  live  on  anyway. 
He'd  heired  that  from  his  father,  and 
he  wouldn't  spend  a  mite  of  it. 

"But  when  his  Aunt  Lois  Snow,  that 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

had  never  got  married,  died  and  left 
him  all  she  had,  then  he  begun  to  let 
up  on  farming,  and  he  got  religion, 
too,  in  the  big  revival  they  had  down 
at  Snow  Center,  and  he  wasn't  very 
well,  and  old  Dr.  Riggs,  who  always 
looked  on  the  dark  side,  and  had  his 
patients  just  ready  to  die,  told  him  he 
hadn't  got  six  months  to  live,  and  Seth, 
he  looked  round  and  thought  it  was 
high  time  he  begun  to  hustle  and  get 
in  some  good  works.  So  he  thought 
he  had  a  call  to  preach.     Of  course,  he 


.>N»^, 


"DAISY  NEVER  WAS  A  MILK-AND-WATER    GIRL, 
AND  NEVER  WILL  BE" 

hadn't  been  to  a  regular  minister's  school 
but  he  calculated  he  might  set  up  as  a 
sort  of  outside  minister,  and  he  made 
his  house  over  into  a  meetinghouse. 

"He  drove  a  mighty  sharp  bargain 
with  the  carpenters  and  the  men  that 
sold  him  the  timber,  but  he  had  them 
long  winders  put  in,  and  the  ceiling 
of  the  first  story  taken  down,  and 
posts  driven  in  to  hold  up  the  roof 
and  that  steeple  built.  Then  he  begun 
to  look  round  for  pews  and  a  pulpit. 
Although  Seth  was  real  earnest  about 
it,  nobody  ever  questioned  that,  he 
couldn't  qiJite  get  over  what  was  bred 
in  his  bone.  He  couldn't  make  up  his 
mind  to  go  and  have  brand-new  pews 
and  a  new  pulpit  made  for  that  meet- 
inghouse. It  seemed  to  him  he  might 
dicker  for  them  some  way.  But,  of 
course,  pews  and  pulpits  ain't  to  be 
bought  off-hand  at  a  bargain  like 
women's  dresses  and  hats,  and  Seth 
was  sort  of  discouraged  for  a  while,  I 
reckon. 

"He  lived  along  in  the  rooms  he'd 


kept  for  himself  and  his  housekeeper 
back  of  the  meetinghouse  proper,  and 
kept  a  look-out  for  nice  second-hand 
pews  and  pulpits  for  pretty  near  a 
year.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  luck 
came  his  way.  The  First  Presbyterian 
Church  at  South  Atway  had  a  lot  of 
money  left  it,  and  the  women  got  up 
a  fair  to  help  out,  and  they  had  the 
whole  church  fixed  up  fine.  They 
had  new  carpets,  and  pews  and  electric 
lights,  and  memorial  winders  and  a 
new  pulpit. 

"Well,  Seth,  he  just  hitched  up  and 
drove  over  to  South  Atway,  and  next 
thing  we  knew  wagons  begun  to  come 
loaded  up  with  pews,  and  the  pulpit 
setting  on  top.  Seth  bought  the  car- 
pets and  the  bracket  lamps,  too. 

"Well,  my  wife  and  the  other  women 
got  interested,  and  they  said  it  was  a 
shame  that  a  man  should  try  so  hard 
to  have  the  gospel  in  Snow  Hill,  and 
save  folks  from  going  in  all  weathers 
way  down  to  Snov  Center,  and  not 
have  anybody  help,  let  alone  showing 
a  mite  of  interest.  So  they  got  to- 
gether and  made  the  men  help,  and  we 
got  the  carpet  down  and  the  pews  set 
up  and  the  pulpit  in  place.  That  was 
quite  a  job  too,  for  it  was  a  real  old- 
fashioned  pulpit,  with  stairs  up  one 
side.  We  were  mortal  afraid  it  wouldn't 
be  fastened  strong  and  might  topple 
over  and  poor  Seth  be  killed  while  he 
was  preaching.  But  we  got  it  up  in 
good  shape  finally,  and  the  bracket 
lamps  and  everything,  and  the  Sunday 
was  set  for  the  first  meeting. 

"Seth  had  a  notice  printed  and 
pasted  up  on  the  meetinghouse  door. 
We  made  a  good  deal  more  fuss  about 
that  meeting  here  than  we  had  ever 
done  about  any  meeting  in  Snow 
Center.  Of  course,  that  church  of 
Seth  Snow's  wouldn't  be  a  real  regular 
church,  admitted  to  conferences  and 
such  things,  I  supposed;  but  after  all, 
I  couldn't  see  if  a  good  Christian  man 
had  a  call  to  preach,  and  was  willing 
to  furnish  his  own  meetinghouse  and 
pews,  even  if  he  did  get  them  at  a 
bargain,  and  it  would  save  folks  from 
going  a  good  way  in  bad  weather,  why 
it  wasn't  all  right,  but  I  calculated  I'd 
wait  and   hear  how  Seth  preached. 

"Well,  I  did.  It  was  a  beautiful 
Sunday  in  May.  It  was  the  great 
apple  year,  and  I  never  saw  before  nor 
since  so  many  blooms  as  there  were. 
The  orchards  and  door-yards  were  all 
pink  and  white,  and  the  air  was  so 
sweet  it  seemed  like  singing.  Every- 
body in  Snow  Hill  went  to  meeting  to 
Seth  Snow's  church,  and  'most  all  the 
women  had  new  bonnets  and  a  lot  had 
new  dresses.  My  wife  had  a  new  one 
trimmed  with  jet  beads  and  she  had 
pink  roses  in  her  bonnet,  and  she 
looked  handsome,  if  I  do  say  it. 

"Daisy  was  nothing  but  a  little  tot 
Continued  on  page  218. 


The  Haida  Raids 


\ 


STOSE 
ADZE 


ITiSEEMS  INCREDIBLE  THAT  ONLY  A  LITTLE  OVER  SEVENTY 
YEARS  AGO  THE  DWELLERS  ALONG  THE  ISLAND- JEWELLED 
WATERS  OF  THE  PACIFIC  COAST  FLED  IN  TERROR  BEFORE 
THE  SHELL-TIPPED  SPEARS  AND  STONE  HAMMERS  OF  THE 
SAVAGE  HAIDA  WARRIORS,  WHO  WERE  BOLD  ENOUGH  TO 
ATTEMPT  THE  LOOTING  OF  A  BRITISH  VESSEL  IN  THE 
STRAITS  OF  JUAN  DE  FUCA.  YET  THERE  ARE  MEN  STILL 
ALIVE  WHO  HAVE  SEEN  THEIR  WAR  CANOES  OUT  FOR  BAT- 
TLE.   THIS  IS  THE  STORY  OF  THEIR  LAST  RAID 


WE  were  travelling  along  the 
shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Georgia. 
Great  Douglas  firs,  from  two  to 
three  hundred  feet  in  height, 
made  the]  huge  silent  woods  dusky  as 
nightfall.  Suddenly,  through  a  rift  in 
the  mighty  forest,  shot  a  gleam  of  gold 
and  right  before  us  lay  a  sheltered 
harbour  shimmering  in  the  light.  It 
lay  as  silent  as  the  sombre  woodland 
scene  about  us — silent  as  in  the  day 
when  the  first  storm  driven  native  of 
the  distant  shores  of  Asia  sought 
refuge  here  and  laid  the  foundation  of 
the  far  spreading  race  we  speak  of  as 
the  Coast  Indians.  Right  at  our  feet, 
its  bleached  shells  bright  in  the  summer 
sun,  was  a  kitchen  midden  of  the  native 
tribes, — a  beach  bank  formed  of  the 
remains  of  the  tribes'  shellfish  feasts  of 
a  thousand  years. 

On  such  a  summer  day  in  the  year 
1840  this  beach  before  us  was  crowded 
with  the  high  prowed  canoes  of  the 
Kwakiutls,  descendants  of  the  storm 
driven  Orientals  whose  arrival  is 
shrouded  in  the  mists  of  time.  Some 
serious  business  urges  on  these  squat 
fishing  tribes.  Many  a  clacking  old 
klootchman  points  vigorously  at  the 
distant  bay  head. 

Look  closely  at  this  milling  throng  of 
warriors.  Half  a  century  before  this, 
Perez  and  Qudra  found  them  peaceable 
fishing  Indians.  Captain  Cook  in 
1778  found  them  quiet  and  shy — why 
then  are  they  rushing  hither  and 
thither  armed  for  the  fray  ?  The 
Haidas  are  sweeping  south  on  a  foray — 
cause  enough  for  these  peaceable 
fishing  tribes  to  scurry  and  run — or 
to  decoy  and  fight — which  ?  The  few 
white  inhabitants  of  this  coast,  hud- 
dled about  the  Hudson's  Bay  Fort  of 
Camusan,  likewise  dreaded  the  warlike 
Haidas  for  but  a  month  before,  while 
these  very  Kwakiutls  were  holding  a 
potlatch,  or  gift  feast,  the  huge  warriors 
of  the  northern  Haidas  had  descended 


By  Bonnycastle  Dale 

niustrated  with  Photographs 


like  an  avalanche  and  swept  all  the 
coast  tribes  before  them,  even  daring 
to  attempt  the  piratical  act  of  boarding 
and  looting  a  British  vessel  in  the 
Straits  of  Juan  de  Fuca. 

The  writer  has  often  spoken  with  an 
old  Scotchman  who  saw  the  long  war 
canoes,  crowded  with  shouting,  gesticu- 
lating savages,  naked  save  for  the  skin 
belts  with  slats  inserted,  tattooed  with 
pictures  of  salmon,  whale  and  bear, 
thunder  bird  and  killer.  Some  had 
their  pierced  noses  inset  with  copper 
or  bone  or  haliotis  shell  ornaments. 
Some  had  whale  teeth  inset  in  the  ear 
lobes.  Their  hair  was  daubed  with 
bright  pigments  and  some  had  the 
fleecy  down  of  the  eagle  powdered  over 
their  bodies. 

At  close  range,  as  my  informant  saw 
them;  they  were  hideous  and  horrible. 
Necklaces  of  shell  rattled  as  they 
moved.  Huge  metal  armlets  clinked 
as  they  paddled — some  of  these  were 
of  native  silver,  curiously  graven.  In 
the  mighty  war  canoe,  a  cedar  log 
sixty  feet  long,  deftly  shaped  by  fire 
and  tool,  were  the  otter  and  seal 
cloaks  of  the  warriors.  The  old  men 
that  held  the  steering  paddle  wore 
their  cloaks,  cloaks  that  to-day  would 
excite  admiration  in  any  fur  mart  in  the 
world.  Over  their  knees  were  the 
wonderful  blankets  of  mountain  goat, 
thread,  and  bark  of  the  cedar. 

In  the  centre  of  each  canoe  were  the 
fruits  of  the  battle.  Gory  piles  of 
skulls;  wooden  helmets,  carvetl  after 
the  head  of  a  wolf  or  bear;  wooden 
armour,  woven  wood  and  rod  combined 
into  one  flexible  mass;  great  round 
shields  for  body  armour;  skin  coats  to 
wear   below   it;   tubs   filled   with    the 


grisly  arms  of  the  octopus;  heaps  of  sea 
urchins,  cockles  and  clams;  a  pile  of 
hideous  war  masks  to  wear  when  they 
danced  about  their  conquered  victims; 
decaying  bodies  of  wild  geese  caught 


AM  IMDIAN  BOY  WKARINQ  Till  CARVKD  WOODSH  UAOC 
OR  HRLMKT^or  IHK  IIAIOASi 


174 

when  moulting;  dried  fish,  salmon  roe 
and  birds'  eggs.  These  tall  warriors 
are  not  of  Asiatic  origin,  as  are  the 
Kwakiutls  gathered  on  the  beach. 
These  mighty  men  come  of  the  same 
stock  as  the  big  Maoris  of  New  Zea- 
land, and  the  myriad  inhabitants  of 
the  islands  of  the  south  Pacific.  They 
have  the  same  customs,  totems,  house 
buildings,  laws,  dress,  and  are  armed 
with  steel  knives,  stone  hammers, 
clubs,  bows  and  war  spears. 
The    marauders   had   left   what   we 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

the  more  peaceful  natives  dreaded 
them  more  than  death.  In  many  a 
place  only  deserted  summer  villages, 
the  "illahie"  or  fishing  village  of  the 
coast  tribes,  met  their  gaze.  Where 
were  all  these  usual  victims  of  their 
forays  ?  Creeping  southward  too, 
but  far  back  in  the  valleys  and  on 
the  shore  hills  of  the  coast,  an  aveng- 
ing host  bent  on  decoying  the  dreaded 
Haidas  into  one  carefully  selected 
bay. 

Here  on  the  shores  of  that  bay  waited 
the  men  of  the 
Kwakiutls.  All  the 
women  and  chil- 
dren, all  the  old 
men  and  treasured 
pets  and  house- 
hold possessions, 
were  even  now 
speeding  up  the 
river  to  land  their 
canoes  and  hasten 
to  shelter  in  the 
mighty  hills  be- 
hind. All  the  men 
now  stood  silent- 
ly awaiting  the 
last  runner  from 
the  hilltop.  Soon 
an  almost  naked 
figure  darted  out 
on  the  trail  and 
leaped  down  to 
the  shore.  There 
was  much  excited 
running  hither  and 
thither.  Then  they 
all  silently  entered 
their  canoes  and 
paddled  swiftly 
across  the  bay  to- 
wards an  inner 
harbour  divided 
from  the  big  one 
they  were  cross- 
ing by  a  sand  spit 
that     lay    almost 


ONE  OF  THE  KWAKIUTLS,  A  PEACEFUL  RACE  OF  FISHERMEN,  DESCENDANTS  FROM 

ADVENTURING  ORIENTAL  SEA-FARERS  BLOWN  ACROSS^THE 

PACIFIC  IN  SOME  PREHISTORIC  AGE 

now  call  Queen  Charlotte  Island. 
They  had  crossed  the  angry  sound  of 
the  same  name,  secure  in  their  great 
canoes.  If  by  chance  one  upset,  the 
swimming  warriors  would  swarm  back 
into  it  and  "paddle-splash"  the  water 
out  in  quick  time.  They  sleep  in  these 
craft  upon  the  ocean  far  out  of  sight  of 
land. 

Southward  they  had  swept,  gobbling 
up,  like  some  fabled  monster,  house 
and  village,  canoe  and  fisherman,  babe 
and  klootchman,  but  ever  through  the 
mighty  forest  beside  them  stole  the 
survivors,  southbound  too,  fearful  but 
vengeful.  Through  the  boiling  tidal 
passes,  sleeping  on  barrier  reefs  to  be 
secure  from  surprise,  the  puzzled 
Haidas  swept  southward.  Year  after 
year  they  had  ravaged  this  coast  until 


bare  at  low  tide. 
Further  in,  it  nar- 
rowed until  high 
red  syenite  walls  made  up  a  narrow 
pass. '  All  seemed  timed  to  the  hour. 
The  tide  was  falling.  The  Haidas  were 
even  now  entering  the  outer  bay.  The 
Kwakiutls  were  just  passing  in  behind 
the  sand  spit,  so  that  their  last  apparent- 
ly desperately  paddling  crews  were  per- 
fectly displayed  on  the  calm  water 
near  the  spit. 

But  India^n  guile  met  Indian  guile 
and  the  Haidas  were  only  five  canoes 
strong — where  were  the  other  five 
that  had  crossed  the  mighty  seas  of 
Queen  Charlotte  Sound  ?  They  were 
silently  paddling  down  the  outer  coast, 
intent  on  surprising  some  other  sum- 
mer village,  despising  the  one  they 
were  passing  so  much  that  they  had 
divided  their  forces. 

No  sooner  did  the  entering  Haidas 


see  the  enemies'  canoes  vanishinff 
around  the  spit  than  they  sent  up  a 
fearful  yell  of  victory,  then  swiftly 
and  silently  they  sped  across  that 
inlet,  the  tall  prows  casting  aside  the 
waters  of  the  outgoing  tide  in  splashing 
curving  waves. 

"Run  out,  good  tide — run  out !" — 
prayed  the  Kwakiutls  who  had  landed 
in  a  creek  cove,  around  the  sand  spit. 
Now  they  crept  slowly  through  the 
shore  cedars  towards  their  dreaded 
enemies.  What  are  those  dark  forms 
creeping  among  the  cedars  on  the  other 
side  opposite  the  spit  ?  They  are  the 
silent  host  that  crept  southward 
through  the  mighty  fir  forests. 

On  swept  the  marauders,  each 
pointed  paddle  splashing  up  the  green 
water.  In  their  haste  for  slaughter 
they  were  now  strung  out  one  behind 
the  other,  for  was  not  the  crew  of  any 
one  canoe — twenty  picked  men  of  the 
most  powerful  tribe  on  the  whole 
Pacific  Coast — equal  to  a  whole  vil- 
lage of  scurrying  fishing  Indians  ? 
Ahead,  the  spit  narrowed  the  passage 
to  an  hundred  yards.  The  panting 
warriors  could  now  see  into  the  inner 
bay. 

"Ho  !"  they  yelled,  as  they  saw  the 
discarded  fleet  of  canoes  far  up  on  the 
tide-left  shellbank.  Ahead  shot  the 
swiftest  canoe — on — on — on —  over  the 
swiftly  flowing  tide  that  was  rushing 
out  over  the  centre  of  the  spit — crunch- 
crunch  !  the  leading  canoe  struck 
bottom  and  out  the  warriors  leaped 
to  try  to  drag  it  up  into  the  deep  water 
some  hundred  feet  ahead.  With 
mighty  splashing  and  rattling  of 
discarded  paddles  the  four  following 
canoes  plunged  on  to  the  flats  and 
stuck. 

But  what  are  those  strange,  swiftly 
darting  black  lines  that  look  like 
speeding  insects  in  flight  ?  Why  are  the 
mighty  Haidas  slipping  and  tossing  in 
the  shallow  water  ?  NOW — from  out  of 
the  dense  cedars  on  either  shore  dart 
a  host  of  brown  figures,  ten  for  every 
one  of  those  who  struggle  about  the 
canoes.  Flight  after  flight  of  arrows 
centre  in  the  Haidas.  They  make  a 
swift  rush  for  their  weapons — too  late, 
the  spearmen  are  upon  them,  a  perfect 
forest  of  shell-tipped  bone-tipped, 
even  some  iron-tipped  spears  rush 
through  the  shallows.  Now  come  the 
little  Kwakiutl  men  with  their  rude 
bone  and  stone-tipped  and  wooden 
clubs.  In  between  them  rush  the 
young  men  with  short  spearlike  dag- 
gers— and  the  warriors  of  the  Haidas 
have  gone  where  they  had  sent  so 
many  of  these  peaceful  fishing  Indians 
— into  the  great  unknown. 

But  the  fight  for  their  fishing  grounds 
and  villages,  their  women  and  children, 
is  not  ended.  The  five  canoes  that 
swept  southward  will  encamp  that 
night  on  one  of  the  outer  islands  of  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


175 


Gulf.  To-morrow  they  will  hasten 
back  to  see  what  keeps  the  rear 
flotilla.  Again  a  full  knowledge  of 
tide  and  pass  and  current  helps  the 
Kwakiutls.  They  know  of  another 
narrow  pass,  in  swift  water,  up  which 
the  enemy  must  return.  For  this 
reason  they  fought  desperately  so  that 
not  a  single  living  Haida  crept  out  of 
the  shallows  to  carry  word  of  defeat 
to  the  other  warriors  in  the  five  fore- 
most canoes — now  vainly  seeking  for 
an  inhabited  summer  village  to  raid. 

So  into  the  enemies'  canoes  they 
clamber.  Off  others  dart  for  their  own 
craft.  Soon  a  mighty  fleet  of  war 
canoes  sweep  out  of  the  bay  and  enter 
the  Gulf  of  Georgia.  Night  falls  as 
they  urge  their  shapely  craft  south- 
ward, meeting  runner  after  runner 
along  the  outer  coast.  Some  three 
hours'  canoe  journey  ahead  lay  the 
tidal  flats  of  a  mountain-born  river, 
huge  sea  meadows  of  mud  and  grass 
and  shells  of  dead  Crustacea.  Here 
nothing  larger  than  a  raccoon  could  cross 
unnoticed.  Here  the  dim  forms  of  the 
great  canoes  swung  all  the  night  long. 

Just  before  dawn  a  panting  swimmer 
returned  to  tell  them  that  the  woods 
on  both  sides  of  the  pass  were  clear. 
No  enemy  lurked  therein.  So  with 
soft  strokes  the  dark  flotilla  passed 
on  and  landed  outside  the  pass.  Half 
of  the  canoes  crossed  and  were  beached 
outside  on  the  opposite  or  eastern 
side.  Soon  both  of  the  dusky  armies 
had  crept  through  the  undergrowth 
and  were  ensconced  in  the  ferns  and 
shrubbery'  that  covered  the  sloping 
banks  of  the  pass  on  either  side.     So 


MODEL  OF  A  NATIVE  HOUSE,  BUILT  AFTER  THE  FASHION  OF  THE  BRITISH  COLUMBIA  COAST  TRIBES, 
WITH  THE  TOTEM  BESIDE  THE  TINY  DOOR 


UNOKR  THI  ROOT  OP  A  CIAKT  FIR  WAS  FOUMD  TRIS  OCVLL, 

RRLIC  OP  SOMK  LONC-ACO  TRACKDY.      IT  IS  ESTI-| 

MATED  TO  BE  1 ,000  YRARS  OLD 


close  was  the  pass,  so  narrow  the 
passage,  that  the  rattle  of  a  bow,  the 
clatter  of  a  falling  arrow  could  be 
plainly  heard  on  either  side.  No  fear 
of  the  Haidas  yet.  No  canoe  could 
breast  the  outgoing  tide. 

Soon  the  tiny  whirlpools  and  ripples 
of  the  southbound  "long  run  out" 
ceased.  For  a  few  moments  only  was 
the  water  undisturbed  — then  the 
"short  run  in"  began. 

The  pass  lay  in  complete  silence,  the 
moment  of  rest  before  old  Dame 
Nature  unseals  another  day.  Now  a 
dim  light  spreads  through  the  narrow 
cleft    in    the    rocks. 

It  was  but  yester  afternoon  that  the 
five  big  war  canoes  darted  down  here 
with  favoring  current.  No  enemy 
met  the  eyes  of  the  warriors  then. 
Hy  all  appearances  no  enemy  now. 
Soon  a  low  murmur  is  heard  above  the 
rippling  tide.  The  northward  return- 
ing Haidas,  confident  after  years  of 
raids,  are  singing  an  old  folk  song  as 
they  steer  their  big  highprowed  craft 
down  the  centre  of  the  current. 
Plaintive  and  sweet  sounded  the 
low  gutturals  of  the  warriors,  "Ho-ly 
— yah  .  .  .  ho-ly — yah  . 
hoh-hoh-hoh— " 

As  said  the  ancient  naturalist,  "The 
swan  goeth  singing  to  her  death,"  even 
so  these  grim  warriors  sang  unwit- 
tingly their  death  chant,  for  clear  in 
the  now  rapidly  brightening  pass,  in 
the  centre  of  the  current,  in  water  so 


swift  that  a  landing  was  impossible, 
a  turn  meant  an  upset,  they  swept  along. 
As  rises  a  great  herd  of  caribou  to 
the  stampede,  as  when  the  myriad 
dark  seafowl  on  ledge  above  ledge  in  the 
breeding  grounds  rise  up,  so  rose  the 
Kwakiutl  hosts  on  either  side  of  that 
fatal  pass.  Every  bush  and  fern  on 
all  that  thousand  feet  of  sloping  bank 
ga\e  place  to  a  leaping  brown  figure 
— some  dark  in  the  shadows,  some 
copper  in  the  sun's  rays.  With  one 
impulse  the  host  raised  their  bows 
and  a  flight  of  arrows  thick  as  locusts 
in  plague  sped  towards  the  doomed 
Haidas.  The  regular  banks  of  cedar 
paddles  gave  place  to  drooping 
figures.  In  one  canoe,  the  one  that 
led  this  fearful  "run  the  gauntlet," 
the  old  steersman,  with  dying  grasp, 
pulled  his  craft  partly  towards  the 
bank.  Instantly  all  of  the  canoes 
swept  on  abreast  —  a  living,  throbbing 
target  at  fifty  feet.  Amid  a  hail  of 
arrows  the  flotilla  swept  out  of  the 
pass.  The  few  survivors,  arrow  rid- 
dled and  bleeding,  clambered  into  one 
canoe  and  made  off  erratically  over 
the  smooth  water.  Soon  a  plunging 
fleet  of  canoes  darted  off  the  banks  and 
flew  along  in  pursuit — a  crash,  a 
swiftly  rushing  impact,  a  few  stabbing 
blows  with  the  keen-edged  shell-tipped 
spears  and  the  last  of  the  great  Haidas 
of  that  long  remembered  raid  had 
fallen  before  his  despised  enemy  the 
squat  and  stolid  Kwakiutl. 


In  The  Eyes  of  The  Law 


BEING  ALSO  THE  STORY  OF  THE  LIGHT  THAT 
LIES    IN    WOMEN'S    EYES  — AND 
LIES.  AND  LIES.  AND  LIES 

By  Grace  Hudson  Rowe 

Illustrated  by  Vatier  L.  Barnes 


DONATI  SHRUGGED  HIS  SHOULDERS.   "YOU  ARE  NOT  SUSCEPTIBLE, 
I  SEE."  HE  SMILED 


I 


■  T  is  perfect,"  I  cried,  as  I  loolted 
at   the  lovely  statue  just  com- 
pleted   by    my   friend    Rinaldo 
Donati,  one  of  the  great  modern 
sculptors  of   Rome.      "What  do   you 
niean  to  call  her  ?" 

"She  has  been  named  already,  and  in 
rather  a  rapturous  fashion,"  he  answer- 
ed. "Last  week  there  came  a  party  of 
Canadians,  and  among  them — such 
a  vision.  What  eyes  !  What  a  skin  ! 
She  was  attended  by  a  big,  fussy  man, 
and  an  elderly  woman  she  called 
'aunt.'  When  I  showed  her  this,  she 
wished  to  buy  it;  but  I  told  her  it  was 
already  sold.  'What  exquisite  taste. 
I  could  adore  a  man  like  that,'  was  the 
somewhat  surprising  answer.  The 
grim  aunt  gave  vent  to  a  shocked 
'Ethel,  how  can  you  !'  She  frisked 
around  the  studio  like  a  fuzzy  little 
kitten  and  then  came  back  with  the 
question,  had  I  named  the  statue,  and 
jf  not  I  must  call  it  'La  Belle  Jardiniere,' 
Ah  !  I  shall  not  forget  her  face — 
fiever  !" 

"Nonsense,"  I  cried  skeptically. 
"I'll  bet  she  wasn't  in  the  same  class 
with  a  girl  I  saw  last  week.  She  was 
just  ahead  of  me  in  the  Sistine  chapel, 
and  was  overcome  by  the  heat.  I  was 
close  enough  to  be  of  service.  What 
jnore    romantic    beginning    could    you 

178 


wish  than  that  ?    Yet  I  don't 
rave." 

Donati  shrugged  his  should- 
ers. 

"You  are  not  susceptible,  I 
see." 

"Perhaps  not,"  I  replied, 
laughing.  "At  any  rate,  I  ran 
away  from  Canada  to  escape  a 
woman.  There  was  a  trouble- 
some law  suit  and  a  pretty 
widow — they  were  too  much 
for  me — for  myrelations want- 
ed me  to  marry  the  widow." 
"Was  she  wealthy  ?"  asked 
Donati. 

"Yes,  and  no,"  said  L 
unable  to  help  laughing  at  his 
view  of  the  cas.\  "I'll  tell 
you  the  story.  Some  years 
ago,  just  previous  to  the  death 
of  my  father,  an  eccentric 
old  uncle  died,  leaving  me 
sole  heir  to  a  really  large  for- 
tune. Knowing  this,  my  father 
altered  his  will  and  bequeathed  most 
of  his  property  to  my  three  sisters, 
leaving  me  a  legacy  of  a  thousand  or 
two  a  year.  I  was  perfectly  satisfied 
at  the  arrangement,  for  my  uncle's 
estate  was  worth  eighty  thousand  a 
year.  Some  months  after  my  father's 
death,  I  received  a  letter  from  a  legal 
firm  in  Montreal,  stating  that  a  codicil 
had  recently  been  found  to  my  uncle's 
will,  in  which  he  changed  the  entire 
disposition  of  his  fortune  and  left  it  to 
a  niece  of  his  wife's.  I  consulted  my 
lawyer.  He  said  that  the  codicil  bore 
evidence  of  being  genuine,  but  might 
not  be.  The  chief  point  in  my  favor 
was  that  I  had  had  possession  of  the 
estate,  undisturbed,  for  years.  There 
is  an  old  servant  mixed  up  in  it — but 
the  story  ^s  long  enough  without  going 
into  that  part. 

"Finally,  I  decided  to  throw  the  case 
into  court,  not  being  disposed  to  give 
up  my  fortune  to  an  unknown  person 
who,  moreover,  had  a  comfortable 
allowance  left  her  by  her  own  husband, 
and  had  no  blooming  business  to  be 
hankering  after  mine.  The  case 
dragged  on,  with  one  delay  and 
another,  for  eighteen  months.  Then 
my  eldest  sister,  Mrs.  Stevens,  be- 
came possessed   of  the   idea  that  she 


had  discovered   a  way    to    settle  it." 

"How  so  ?"  asked  Donati. 

"Well,"  I  answered,  "Cora  pfo posed 
that  I  lay  siege  to  the  warlike  and 
avaricious  widow,  with  an  ultimate 
view  of  marrying  her  !" 

"And  why  not  ?"  said  Donati  sur- 
prised. 

"That's  enough,"  retorted  I,  irrit- 
ably. "You  Italians  pretend  to  die  for 
love,  and  yet  always  marry  for  money. 
But  I,  at  least,  won't  barter  my  liberty 
for  a  fortune.  To  do  you  justice,  how- 
ever," said  I,  cooling  down,  "Cora  took 
exactly  your  view  of  it.  She  said  Mrs. 
Martindale — that's  the  widow — was 
just  the  woman  who  needed  a  protector, 
and  ended  up  her  harangue  by  telling 
me  she  had  invited  my  antagonist  to 
visit  her,  in  the  hope  that  something 
might  come  of  it.  I  was  in  a  towering 
rage,  and  when  I  found  my  young 
unmarried  sister  favored  the  scheme, 
well — I  simply  got  out.  So  it  happened 
that  the  week  the  widow  was  expected 
I  was  on  my  way  to  Europe." 

"And  how  about  the  law-suit  ?" 

"Oh  !  that's  still  dragging  on.  By 
last  accounts,  our  side  was  looking  up. 
But,  whether  I  win,  or  lose,  the  widow 
may  wear  the  willow  as  far  as  I  am 
concerned." 

"Your  sisters  are  of  the  wisest,"  was 
the  dry  reply  of  Donati.  Then  he 
turned  the  conversation  by  asking  me 
to  go  for  a  walk  on  the  Campagna. 

It  was  now  carnival  time.  The 
second  day  of  the  races,  I  had  left  my 
carriage  to  join  a  friend,  and  was 
standing  among  the  dense  crowd  on 
the  Corso,  when  a  very  cleap  voice 
behind  me  said,  quietly: 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  are  you  not  a 
Canadian  ? " 

I  looked  around.  There  stood  a 
beautifully  gowned  woman.  But  I 
only  noticed  the  laughing  eyes  at  first. 

"Guilty,"  I  responded,  "What  can 
I  do  for  you,  madam  ?" 

"I  have  been  separated  from  my 
party  in  the  crowd,  as  we  were  going 
to  our  carriage,  and  I  speak  such 
abominable  Italian,  and — and  —  I 
thought  you  looked  like  a  countryman. 
Anyone  but  a  Canadian  gentleman," 
with  the  slightest  possible  emphasis 
on  the  last  word,  "might  mistake  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


177 


freedom.  Will  you  do  me  the  very 
great  kindness  to  help  me  locate  the 
whereabouts  of  my  people." 

Of  course  I  assured  her  I  was  at  her 
command,  and  we  looked  vainly  around 
for  the  missing  party,  whom  she 
endeavored  to  describe  to  me,  but  the 
crowd  only  grew  denser  in  front  of  us, 
and  she  began  to  grow  embarrassed  in 
spite  of  herself. 

"My  aunt  will  be  terribly  alarmed 
about  me,"  she  said  at  last.  "I  am 
tremendously  sorry  to  have  bothered 
you  so  much;  and  you  have  been 
obliged  to  leave  your  friend." 

"That's  of  no  conquence."  Here  a 
bright  idea  struck  me.  "But  if  you  will 
allow  me  to  offer  you  my  carriage,  I 
would  be  glad  to  take  you  to  your 
apartments." 

She  hesitated  for  half  a  second. 

"I  think  I  shall  be  obliged  to  impose 
on  your  kindness,"  she  replied  at  last, 
"for  I  see  no  other  way  of  extricating 
myself  from  this  dilemma." 

"I  helped  her  in  and  she  gave  me 
the  address  of  her  hotel.  Then  with  my 
hand  on  the  door  I  said,  "If  you  will 
allow  me,  I  think  I  had  better  go  with 
you.  It  would  hardly  be  pleasant  for 
you  to  drive  through  the  streets  alone." 
As  I  looked  at  her,  it  dawned  on  me  for 
the  first  time  what  this  tantalizing 
impression  of  something  familiar  about 
her  eyes  was.  She  was  the  girl  for 
whom  I  had  procured  the  bottle  of 
salts  in  the  Sistine  chapel.  Probably 
some  of  my  surprise  was  reflected  in 
my  face,  for  as  she  thanked  me  and 
accepted,  she  blushed  charmingly. 

However,  after  a  few  moments  the 
temporary    embarrassment    wore    off. 


ON    THE   FOURTH    OAV    I    INSISTED   ON    HAVING    MY   MAU, 


"Vnt!  DON  T  KNOW  ROW  MUCH  DAMAOK  YOU  DID  THAT  DAT.     SAID  I 

'raOR  DONATI  I      YOU  I.KFT  MIM  WITH  TIIK  IMPMSSION 

THAT  CANADA  IS  TMK  LAND  Of  I.OVKLY  FACKs" 


and,  I  found  myself  chatting  gayly. 
She  seemed  perfectly  familiar  with  the 
F^nglish  society  of  Rome,  and  presently 
1  be^;an  to  wonder  if  she  was  not  an 
Englishwoman,  in  spite  of  her  previous 
assertion  about  a  Canadian  country- 
man. 

When  the  carriage  stopped  she  said 
with  an  adorable  little  catch  in  her 
voice:  "I  cannot  thank  you  sufficiently 
for  your  kindness  to  a  stranger,  but  I 
hope  you  will  call,  or  let  my  uncle  call 
on  you."  Then  with  a  daring  that 
seemed  to  startle  herself,  "But  if 
you're  going  to  call,  come  soon,  for  we 
leave  Rome  the  end  of  next  week." 

I  came  to,  standing  stupidly  on  the 
street  gazing  after  her.  I,  Sidney 
Cragg,  staid,  sen.sible  bache- 
lor of  thirty-one,  had  lost  my 
head — and  heart.  As  I  drove 
back  to  the  Corso  I  looked 
at  the  card  she  had  given  me. 
It  bore  the  name  of  the 
"Reverend  Nathaniel  Mars- 
Ion"  in  severely  clerical 
type. 

That  evening  I  went  to  a 
ball  at  the  Embassy,  and  on 
every  programme  I  touched, 
the  Liters  formed  themselves 
into  the  Reverend  Nat's 
name;  the  next  morning  at 
the  club  the  menu  card  shout- 
ed Nathaniel  Marston  at  me. 
I    finally  stopped  short  and 


novelty  of  the 
you' — that's  all. 
found    my    way 


said  "You  blooming  idiot,  go  and 
call,  and  after  you  have  spent  half 
an  hour  with  the  fair  one,  you'll 
come  back  to  your  senses.  The 
situation  has  'got 
So  after  dinner  I 
to  the  hotel,  and 
sent  up  my  card  to  the  Reverend 
Nathaniel.  Following  it  rather  quickly 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  room  and 
heard  a  word  or  two  from  its  inmates 
before  they  were  aware  of  my  being 
on  the  threshold.  "Such  a  piece  of 
deceit,  Ethel,"  said  a  prim  voice,  on  a 
high  key.  "But  I  will  have  it  so, 
aunt,"  I  heard  the  girl  reply.     "Don't 

you  see  the  unbearableness  of  my ". 

Just  then  she  caught  sight  of  me  in  the 
doorway,  and  while  I  thought  she 
looked  embarrassed  for  a  moment,  she 
recovered  herself  so  quickly  that  it 
was  only  a  vague  impression.  She 
shook  hands  with  a  simple  unaffected 
directness,  and  siiid,  "Mr.  Cragg,  I 
want  you  to  know  my  aunt.  Aunty 
dear,  this  is  the  life-saver."  Mrs. 
Marston  certainly  did  not  belie  her 
voice.  She  was  the  stiffest,  starchiest, 
most  poker-like  person  I  ever  saw. 
She'd  the  expression  of  a  prune,  and 
IcKikwi  as  if  she  might  belong  to  an  en- 
tirely different  sphere  from  the  radiant 
creature  who  .scatcti  herself  on  the 
couch  beside  me,  and  of  whom  I  in- 
qu're<l,"I  hope  your  parly  had  return- 
ed, when  you  arrived.  Miss  Marston  ?" 


178 

She  chatted  agreeably  about  many 
topics,  occasionally  interrupted  by  a 
nod  from  the  sphinx-like  aunt  in  the 
«asy-chair. 

"Are  you  much  interested  in  modem 
sculpture,  Mr.  Cragg  ?"  said  the  niece. 
"I  have  so  enjoyed  my  visits  to  the 
studios  here  and  in  Florence.  But  the 
other  day  I  had  such  a  disappointment. 
I  saw  the  most  exquisite  cameo-like 
little  statue,  and  offered  the  artist  his 
own  price,  but  alas !  it  had  been 
bought  by  somebody — didn't  he  say 
a  'compatriot,'  aunt  ? — and  I  could 
not  have  it." 

Donati's  story  flashed  across  my 
recollection,  and  involuntarily  I  broke 
into  a  laugh.  Then  his  "Diva,"  who 
declared  herself  "in  love  with  that 
man,"  the  owner  of  the  marble,  was 
Miss  Marston. 

1^  "You  don't  know  how  much  damage 
you  did  that  day,"  said  I.  "Poor 
Donati  !  You  left  him  with  the  im- 
pression that  Canada  is  the  Paradise 
of — pardon  me — lovely  faces.  The 
statue  you  were  kind  enough  to 
christen  is  my  property." 

"Yours  ?"  Again  the  blue  eyes 
looked  archly  wicked.  "Then  I  envy 
you.  Is  Signore  Donati  a  friend  of 
yours  ?" 

"Yes,  our  acquaintance  began  eight 
years  ago,  during  my  second  visit  to 
Rome." 

Just  then  the  servant  announced 
Lord  Derwent.  I  rose  as  the  tall  blonde 
Guardsman  entered.  He  was  an  old 
acquaintance  of  mine,  but  one  that  I 
wasn't  keen  about. 

"Good-evening,  my  fair  antagonist," 
was  his  greeting  to  Miss  Marston. 
"Ah,  Cragg  !"  turning  to  me,  "I 
wasn't  aware  that  you  knew — ■ — ■" 

"Me  !"  interrupted  the  lady.  "What 
a  sad  loss  that  knowledge  must  be  to 
your  lordship  !  I  have  something  to 
say  to  you  about  that  marble.  Lord 
Cosmo;  but  it  must  be  under  the  rose, 
as  I  don't  mean  aunt  shall  know  it. 
Mr.  Cragg,  will  you  excuse  me  for  an 
instant,  I'm  going  on  the  balcony." 

I  bowed  assent,  but  I  was  not  par- 
ticularly pleased,  as  I  watched  the  pair 
outside,  and  heard  presently  a  gush  of 
merry  laughter  from  Ethel,  that  seemed 
tojtell  of  great  intimacy  with  Derwent. 
But  I  called  myself  a  jealous  fool  when 
they  returned, and  Ethel's  clear  eyes  met 
mine.  Still  the  call  was  not  as  pleasant 
after  that,  and  I  soon  rose  to  go,  prom- 
ising, as  she  said,  "to  come  soon  again." 

The  Marstons  were  only  a  week 
longer  in  Rome,  but,  during  that  time 
my  acquaintance  with  Ethel  progressed 
very  rapidly.  I  contrived  to  keep 
myself  informed  of  their  movements 
and  made  my  plans  suit  theirs,  so  I 
followed  them  back  to  Paris.  One 
thing  alone  gave  me  serious  uneasiness, 
and  that  was  Derwent's  persistent 
attentions.      I    knew   him    to   have     a 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

reputation  of  some  speed,  so  I  didn't 
care  for  Miss  Marston  to  see  so  much  of 
him.  The  morning  before  the  Mar- 
stons were  to  leave  Rome,  I  went  over 
to  see  Donati,  and  found  him,  as  usual, 
working  in  his  studio. 

"Ah  !  you  have  forgotten  me,"  was 
his  salutation;  "and  I  hear  of  you  such 
tales.  Did  I  not  see  you  at  the  Coli- 
seum yesterday  with  La  Diva,  alx)ut 
whom  you  pretended  such  indifference  ?" 

"Upon  my  honor,  Donati,"  said  I, 
"I  did  not  know  her  then.  What  have 
you  heard  ?  My  acquaintance  with 
Miss  Marston  has  been  very  short." 

"Truly;  but  the  tongue  flies  fast. 
Don't  play  surprise,  caro,  but  rather 
tell  me  by  what  process  you  obtained 
information  that  my  studio  was  to  be 
honored  by  La  Diva  this  morning  ?" 

"You  are  my  informant.  I  came  to 
saygood-by." 

"Off  for  Paris,  eh  ?  Then  you  don't 
know  that  the  big,  fussy  man  brought 
Milor  Derwent  here  to  take  opinion 
upon  my  Aurora  ?  And  they  are 
coming  to  give  a  final  order,  ecco  !" 
and  the  enthusiastic  Italian  gave  one 
of  his  expressive  gestures  toward  the 
door. 

Mrs.  Marston  entered  first  with 
Derwent,  and  a  moment  after  the 
Reverend  Nathaniel  and  Ethel  saw  me 
standing  in  the  window.  She  was  a 
little,  a  very  little,  startled  by  my 
unexpected  proximity,  for  she  blushed 
as  we  shook  hands.  After  shaking 
hands  with  Mrs.  Marston  I  gave  her 
all  my  attention.  The  grim  aunt  had 
really  begun  to  thaw  a  shade  toward 
me,  and  I  endeavored  to  impress  her 
by  some  very  learned  sounding  opin- 
ions of  marbles  in  general.  At  length 
the  Reverend  Nathaniel  appealed  to 
his  wife,  and  we  were  drawn  into  the 
other  circle. 

"Mr.  Cragg,"  Ethel  said  to  me  in 
rather  an  undertone,  "I  wonder  if  I 
may  presume  on  our  short  acquaint- 
ance, and  ask  you  to  do  something  for 
me  after  I  leave  Rome  ?" 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  be  of  any  use," 
I  said  sincerely  enough. 

"It  is  only  about  some  scarfs;  I  will 
give  you  the  address,  and  they  can 
be  forwarded.  I  wonder  when  I  shall 
have  an  opportunity  to  thank  you  ?" 

I  wondered  if  she  was  playing  with 
me;  or  probably  it  was  just  a  little 
appealing  way  she  had  with  everyone. 
Anyway  I  said,  "I'll  be  in  Paris  the 
end  of  the  week.    If  I  dared " 

"Dare  nothing,"  she  said  hurriedly. 
Then,  in  a  gayer  tone,  "We  go  to  the 
Grande  Hotel,  and  I  shall  hope  to  see 
you.  By  the  way,  if  you  are  leaving  so 
soon,  why  can't  you  join  our  party  as 
Lord  Derwent  has  done  ?" 

"Thank  you,"  I  returned,  coldly. 
"It  will  not  be  possible  for  me  to  join 
you,  or  Lord  Derwent." 

She   looked   at   me   with   a   sudden 


lighting  of  her  eyes,  that  added  a  new 
charm  to  her  beauty;  but  she  was  pre- 
vented from  answering  by  the  appear- 
ance of  Lord  Derwent  at  my  elbow. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you  in  Paris, 
Cragg  ?"  said  he,  with  that  careless 
grace  and  ease  that  so  well  covered  a 
hidden  insolence.  "I'm  at  your  com- 
mand." 

"Thank  you;  I've  no  commissions 
for  Paris.  I  shall  be  there  myself  on 
Friday  night." 

"Good  news,"  said  he,  recovering 
himself.  "Then  I  hope  you'll  dine  with 
me  on  Saturday.  I  expect  a  party  of 
eight;  among  them  your  friend  Hobart 
and  Carrolyn  of  the  Guards,  whom  you 
knew  in   London." 

After  a  second's  deliberation,  I 
accepted  the  invitation.  A  refusal 
would  have  been  an  unnecessary  dis- 
courtesy. 

The  very  first  thing  I  did  on  arriving 
in  Paris,  was  to  order  flowers  for 
Ethel,  and  send  them  with  her  scarfs 
to  the  Grande. 

It  was  a  very  elegant  dinner  to 
which  I  sat  down  at  seven.  Presently 
I  was  in  better  humor  with  my  host, 
and  was  beginning  to  think  him  not 
such  a  bad  sort  after  all.  Gray  and 
I  were  talking  over  the  latest  musical 
show,  when  I  accidentally  caught  part 
of  a  remark  of  Derwent's  to  Carrolyn: 
"Jealous  as  the  devil — see  what  he'll 
say  to  it."  He  leaned  forward  and 
said,  "A  glass  of  wine  with  you,  Cragg. 
Here's  to  my  future  fiance,  the  lovely 
and  graciously-disposed  Ethel." 

I  raised  the  glass  to  my  lips  without 
touching  it.  "Am  I  to  conclude  that 
you  expect  our  congratulations,  Der- 
went ?"     I  said  calmly. 

"Conclude  what  you  like,"  he  said 
with  an  insolent  smile;  "die  fair  one 
waits  my  pleasure,  and  by  Jove  !  if 
she  wasn't  so  deuced  handsome  I'm 
afraid  I'd  leave  her  there  for  her  pains." 

For  a  second  I  stared,  not  believing 
my  ears.  Then,  as  the  significance  of 
his  speech  registered  itself  in  my  mind, 
a  flood  of  rage  overcame  me.  I  saw 
red,  and  my  hand  went  out  to  the 
nearest  weapon. 

The  rest  is  a  blank.  I  only  know  I 
grabbed  a  champagne  bottle  and  used 
all  the  force  of  my  muscle  on  Derwent's 
face.  Derwent  must  ha\-e drawn  a  revol- 
ver, because  from  that  moment  I  only 
have  a  hazy  recollection  of  an  unending 
interval  of  pain  and  delirium,  in  which 
I  was  pursuing  Lord  Derwent  and 
Ethel  through  dark  caves — always 
just  before  me,  never  quite  in  my  reach. 
When  I  finally  opened  my  eyes  to 
consciousness  Hobart  and  a  woman  in 
a  nurse's  uniform  were  in  the  room. 

"We've  pulled  vou  through,  Sidney, 
thank  God  !" 

"Where's  Derwent  ?" 

"The  bally  scoundrel  got  out,   but 
Continued  on  page  209 


HE  ¥OMAN  OF  IT 

C/Tuthor  of  "THE  APOSTACY  OF  JULIAN  FULKE."  "jOAN."  etc. 

Illustrated  ^hy 
K^therino  Southzoick 


SYNOPSIS,. 

This  novel  of  English  society  opens  with  a  prologue  showing  Robert  Sinclair  as  a  boy  in  Rome.  He  angers  his  father,  a  cashiered  captain,  by 
wanting  to  become  a  singer,  and  is  brutally  beaten.  Mother  and  son  leave  Rome  that  night,  the  boy  regretting  only  his  parting  with  his  playmate, 
Denzil  Merton. 

The  scene  changes  to  London.  Lord  Merton  is  giving  a  box  party  at  the  opera  for  the  family  of  a  Canadian  railway  man,  with  whose  daughter, 
Valerie  Monro,  he  is  deeply  in  love.  When  the  new  tenor  who  is  to  make  his  premier  in  the  role  of  the  Knight  Lohengrin  comes  on,  Merton  recog- 
nizer) him  as  his  boyhood  friend,  Robert  Sinclair.  Valerie  is  strangely  impressed  by  the  tenor  but  chides  herself  for  being  as  silly  about  him  as 
the  other  women  of  the  party.  Merton  tells  her  he  it  going  to  call  on  Sinclair  the  next  day,  which  he  does,  and  finds  Sinclair  eager  to  renew  their 
boyish  acquaintance.  Merton  tells  him  that  Valerie  wants  to  meet  him,  but  he  laughs  and  intimates  the  Lohengrin's  armour  has  dazzled  her  a 
little.  Merton  disclaims  this,  saying,  "She  is  not  like  that,"  and  when  Mrs.  Monro  sends  the  singer  a  card  for  her  next  ball,  Merton  persuades 
him  to  accept.  Valerie  perversely  snubs  him.  L.ater  in  the  evening  a  lighted  candle  falls  on  her,  and  Sinclair  puts  out  the  fire,  burning  his  hands. 
Valerie  attempts  to  thank  him,  and  ends  by  a  gust  of  hysterical  tears  which  washes  away  the  coldness  between  them.  They  start  afresh  on  their 
acquaintanceship,  and  she  invites  Sinclair  to  come  and  see  them.  However,  their  next  meeting  is  at  the  Duchess  of  Northshire's  musicale, 
where  Sinclair  is  a  lion.  She  promises  him  three  dances  at  Lady  Merton's  ball.  Feeling  intuitively  that  Merton  will  ask  her  to  marry  him, 
•he  tells  herself,  "To-night  I  will  be  happy.  After  that,  the  deluge  !"  She  coquettes  with  Sinclair,  and  provokes  him  until  at  last  he  takes  her 
In  his  arms,  and  admits  that  he  loves  her.  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away,  saying,  "There  is  Denzil,  my  friend — and  yours."  She 
teljs  him,  "He  will  ask  me  to  marry  him,  to-night.  What  shall  I  say  to  him  ?"  Sinclair  grips  her  by  the  shoulder  and  says  fiercely:  "You  aren't 
going  to  marry  him  !  Do  you  hear  me  ?"  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away.  He  will  not  take  Denzil's  beloved  away  from  him,  and  he 
tells  Valerie  he  loves  her  too  much  to  marry  her,  that  he  would  not  make  her  happy,  that  he  loves  his  work  more  than  any  woman.  Valerie 
cannot  understand  this  altogether,  but  he  forces  her  to  accept  the  fact  that  he  will  not  marry  her;  and  later  in  the  evening  she  accepts  Denzil. 
When  Sinclair  reaches  home,  his  father  is  asleep  in  his  rooms,  having  come  to  beg  for  money  on  the  strength  of  the  fact  that  he  is  the  next  heir 
to  the  baronetcy  of  Abbott's  Wood,  and  Sir  Fulke  Sinclair  is  a  very  old  and  feeble  man.  His  son  settles  two  hundred  pounds  a  year  on  him,  and 
tells  him  that  it  is  only  on  condition  that  the  captain  never  show  his  face  near  his  son  again,  never  write  to  him  or  communicate  with  him.  The 
elder  Sinclair  consents,  borrows  all  the  gold  the  son  has  in  his  pockets  at  the  moment,  and  goes  off  with  a  pitiful  attempt  at  jauntiness,  leaving  the 
young  man  alone.  Valerie,  as  Denzil's  fiancee,  goes  with  the  Mertons  to  Barranmuir,  for  the  shooting.  After  much  persuasion,  Sinclair  comes  for 
a  few  days,  and  is  shocked  to  find  how  thin  and  white  Valerie  has  grown.  Diphtheria  breaks  out  i  i  the  village,  and  Denzil  is  anxious  about  her, 
but  she  laughs  it  off.  Captain  Sinclair  turns  up,  and  demands  more  money  from  his  son,  which  Robert  refuses  to  give.  In  a  rage,  the  captain 
threatens  to  ask  Lord  Merton  for  a  loan.  Meantime  Valerie,  noticing  that  Robert  is  amused  by  pretty  Dolly  Brent,  believes  that  he  is  falling 
in  love  with  her,  and  cannot  endure  it. 


(  HAPTF:R  XII.— Continued. 

She  hesitated  a  little  at  the  entrance 
of  the  consersatory  and  her  dress 
rustled  gently  along  the  mosaic  floor. 
Almost  involuntarily  Robert  looked  up 
and  met  Valerie's  dark  blue  eyes.  Her 
face  gave  him  a  shock.  It  was  almost 
like  a  death-mask  except  for  those 
burning,  haunting  eyes  of  her. 

Dolly  did  not  look  up.  Her  world 
consisted  for  the  present  of  Rol)ert  Sin- 
clair. She  felt  sure  he  had  sung  to 
her — he  had  sought  her  out  as  soon  as 
he  had  finished  his  song — that  was 
enough  for  her  ! 

But  beyond  looking  at  him,  Vaierie 
made  no  sign  at  all.  She  walked  in  her 
own  peculiarly  graceful  swimming  fash- 
ion past  them  and  so  through  the  long 
rooms  until  she  reached  the  staircase, 
where  she  was  to  bid  Denzil  gcxxl-night. 

By  this  time  he  had  noticed  her 
pallor  and  was  dreadfully  concerned 
at  it.     "Valerie,"  he  said,  "let  me  send 


for  MofTat^he  is  a  good  doctor,  al- 
though he  lives  in  the  country  !  I  am 
sure  you  are  ill  !" 

"I'm  just  tired,"  she  said. 

"But  that  fatigue  means  something 
— you  are  not  usually  so  tired  !" 

"It  means  nothing,"  she  answered 
and  bent  towards  him.  "Don't  you 
want  to  kiss  me  go<jd -night  ?"  she  asked 
in  gentle  raillery. 

"Don't  1  want  to  ?"  he  said. 

She  bent  her  head  and  he  kissed  her, 
"My  darling,  my  darling  !"  he  said — 
it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  say  any- 
thing more. 

He  stayed  and  watched  her  until  she 
had  disappeared  from  his  sight  and 
still  he  stood  tlierc.  The  horrible  fear 
that  she  might  be  ill,  that  he  might 
lose  her  was  on  him.  "I  am  sure  it  will 
never  be,"  he  said  to  himself.  "No  mor- 
tal was  ever  allowe<l  to  be  so  happy!" 
But  how  could  he  bear  to  live  without 
her  ?     .\  horrible  presentiment  of  life 


without  Valerie  came  to  him;  he  could 
not  shake  it  off  and  he  stood  there 
where  he  had  been  parted  from  her 
until  some  one  came  out  of  the  draw- 
ing rooms  and  found  him  there.  That 
some  one  was  Robert. 

"Denzil,  what  is  the  matter,  you 
look  as  if  you  had  seen  a  ghost  ?" 

"Do  I  ?    Well  I  have  seen  a  ghost 
The  ghost  of  what  life  would  be  for  me 
without  Valerie  !" 

"You  have  not  quarrelled  ?" 

"Great  Heavens,  no  !  But  she  look- 
ed so  white,  so  frail — and  she  grows 
thinner  and  thinner — and  she  is  so 
gentle  always  !  She  used,  I  think,  to 
have  more  spirit.  If  anything  happens 
to  her,  I  could  not  survive  it  !" 

"She  looked  pale  to-night,"  remarked 
Robert  casually.  "I  noticed  that. 
But  Denzil,  old  man,  a  woman  is  not 
going  to  die,  Ix-cause  she  Uwks  pale — 
I  think  you  are  extravagant  in  your 
fears.     It  is  not  like  vou  !" 

179 


180 

"No,"  he  said.  His  friend's  words 
comforted  him  and  appealed  to  the 
common  sense  part  of  his  nature,  that 
knew  nothing  of  the  fears  of  love.  "I 
suppose  I  am  a  fool,  Bob — but  I  can 
dream  of  no  life  without  her." 

"A  very  good  sort  of  folly,"  said 
Robert,  and  to  himself  he  added,  "I 
say  so,  because  I  share  it  !" 

CHAPTER  Xni. 

Valerie  came  down  to  breakfast  the 
next  morning,  looking  only  a  shade  less 
pale  than  she  had  done  the  previous 
night.  Indeed,  the  night  had  been 
one  of  tossing  for  her.  She  could  not 
sleep.  Always  it  seemed  to  her,  that 
she  saw  Robert's  handsome  head 
stooping  towards  Dolly  and  the  girl's 
adoring  eyes  lifted  to  the  singer's  face. 
"He  forgot  me,"  the  girl  said  to  her- 
self. 'I  might  just  as  well  never  have 
given  him  all  my  love  !" 

That  was  the  sting  of  it  !  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life,  she  was  jealous, 
bitterly  jealous  !  Jealous  of  pretty, 
foolish  Dolly,  who  had  been  so  ready 
to  sell  herself  to  the  highest  bidder  ! 
And  yet  she  could  not  say  to  herself 
truthfully  that  she  would  not  have 
been  jealous,  if  Robert  had  devoted 
himself  to  any  other  woman. 

"He  must  go,"  she  said  to  herself, 
"he  will  love  and  will  in  time  marry  but 
I  shan't  be  there  to  see  !  I  can't  stand 
it,  I  can't  !" 

But  she  was  not  quite  so  sure  when 
she  came  into  the  long  dining  room  and 
saw  that  Dolly  and  Sinclair  were 
breakfasting  together. 

The  long  table  was  almost  empty, 
yet  those  two  were  seated  side  by  side. 
He  had  been  talking  as  she  came  in. 
Was  it  really  worse  to  see  him  beside 
Dolly  than  to  dream  of  him  and  toss 
from  side  to  side  because  of  him  all  the 
night  ? 

"Anyhow,  I  can  see  what  is  going 
on,"  she  said. 

He  sprang  up  as  she  came  in.  Den- 
zil  was  not  yet  down.  Breakfast  went 
on  gaily  for  a  couple  of  hours  at  Bar- 
ranmuir  and  the  guests  helped  them- 
selves or  had  trays  conveyed  to  their 
rooms  as  they  would.  Valerie  had 
never  come  down  quite  so  early  before. 
She  had  always  thought  that  Sinclair 
must  be  one  of  the  early  ones. 

"What  shall  I  get  you  ?"  he  asked 
her. 

"Whatever  there  is,"  she  answered 
■ — the  very  thought  of  food  choked  her 
but  the  conventions  must  be  observed. 
He  examined  the  dishes  gravely  and 
finally  made  a  choice,  handed  it  to  her 
and  then  went  back  to  Dolly's  side  and 
sat  down,  eating  his  breakfast  quite 
heartily.  "He  does  not  care,  he  does 
not  care,"  said  Valerie  to  herself. 

She  drank  a  mouthful  of  cofTee  and 
made  a  pretence  of  eating.  Then 
Denzilcamein.  astonished  at  seeing  her. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"Are  you  better  ?"  he  asked, anxious- 
ly scanning  the  beautiful  face. 

"I  am  quite  well,"  she  said,  "I  was 
very  tired,  that  is  all." 

"You  still  look  tired,"  he  said. 
"You  must  not  come  on  the  moors, 
to-day,  Valerie  !" 

"Very  well,  I  will  stay  in,"  she  said 
docilely.  Denzil  pressed  her  hand 
under  cover  of  the  table.  "You  are 
going  out  early.  Bob  ?"  he  said.  "You 
are  a  sportsman  !" 

"I  have  to  be  in  early,"  said  Sinclair. 
"I  have  letters  to  write.  The  moors 
are  splendid — the  birds  just  wild 
enough.  But  I  have  some  arrange- 
ments to  make.  Are  you  getting  ready 
for  a  tramp  with  me.  Miss  Brent  ?" 

"I  am  going  on  the  moors,"  said 
Dolly  blushing  and  dimpling.  "There 
will  be  a  large  party  of  us  !" 

She  rose  and  he  went  to  the  window. 
"I  think  it  is  going  to  be  fine,"  he  said, 
looking  at  the  clouds  critically. 
"You  don't  seem  pleased  ?" 
He  laughed,  "I  don't  mind  the  rain — 
and  the  ladies  don't  come  when  it  is 
rainy." 

"You  ungrateful  wretch,"  said 
Denzil  laughing. 

"Oh,    I    am   not   that — but    I    like 
everything  in  its  place — I  like  to  do  my 
shooting  with   men — what   time  does 
your  post  go  out,  Denzil  ?" 
"Quarter  to  five." 

"Then  if  I  am  home  by  half -past 
three,  I  shall  have  an  hour  and  a  quar- 
ter for  my  letters.  Are  you  shooting, 
old  man  ?" 

"I  am  going  to  take  Miss  Monro  in 

the  motor  for  a  long  spin  this  morning," 

said  Denzil,  "that  is,  if  she  will  let  me." 

"I    should  love    it,"     said    Valerie 

gratefully. 

She  went  from  the  room  and  left  the 
two  young  men  together.  Other 
guests  came  down.  She  did  not  see 
Robert  again  until  he  passed  her  in  his 
tweed  suit  and  gaiters,  with  Dolly  by 
his  side.  She  had  on  beautiful  sables, 
Merton's  gift,  and  a  sable  toque  with  a 
brownish  veil.  As  he  passed  her,  he 
gave  a  quick  glance  at  her,  almost  as 
if  it  were  against  his  will. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  the  rush 
through  the  air  was  invigorating.  It 
made  Valerie  feel  sleepy  and  she  was 
not  quite  sure  that  she  did  not  sleep 
a  little  as  she  sat  there.  Denzil  rallied 
her  about  it. 

"I  did  noC  sleep  well,  last  night," 
she  said. 

"But  you  are  better  now?" 
"Yes,  much,"  she  said. 
She  felt  better  and  saner — after  all 
she  was  not  without  courage.  She  had 
deliberately  chosen  her  line  and  she 
must  have  the  courage  to  walk  along 
it.  Denzil  was  all  that  was  delightful. 
She  was  not  marrying  a  clod  or  a  fool 
but  a  man  who  could  sympathize  with 
her   feelings   and    who   was   as   high- 


minded  as  a  man  could  be — he  was  not 
Robert,  that  was  all  1 

They  lunched  together  at  a  little 
inn  frequented  by  men  who  came  to 
fish  and  shoot.  The  room  was  empty 
when  they  came  in.  Valerie  was  hun- 
gry and  delighted  Denzil  by  doing 
justice  to  her  meal.  After  all,  she 
could  not  be  really  ill  !  She  must 
have  been  only  very  tired  ! 

They  prolonged  the  luncheon.  It 
was  pleasant  in  the  little  low  room — 
there  was  something  homely  about  it. 
Valerie,  to  one  side  of  whose  nature 
what  was  homely  appealed,  enjoyed 
being  here,  away  from  all  ceremony. 
As  Uiey  sat  there,  three  men  ap- 
peared and  sat  down  at  the  other 
end  of  the  table. 

They  were  not  pleasant  looking  men 
at  all.  All  were  well  beyond  middle 
age  and  one  and  all  bore  on  their  faces 
the  marks  of  dissipation.  They  stared 
at  Valerie,  which  enraged  Denzil. 

"Will  you  see  if  my  chauffeur  is 
ready  ?"  he  said  to  the  maid. 

"The  man,  sir — he  is  eating  his 
lunch,"  said  the  girl. 

"Well,  tell  him  to  make  haste,"  said 
Denzil  impatiently. 

The  men  still  continued  to  stare — 
it  made  the  blood  boil  in  Denzil 's  veins. 
He  rose  and  held  out  the  sable  coat 
for  Valerie.  He  fastened  it  up  for  her 
— it  was  impossible  to  see  him  with 
Valerie  and  not  know  that  he  was 
Valerie's  lover.  Of  the  three  men, 
two  were  stoutish  and  one  was  tall, 
upright  and  thin.  His  face,  which  had 
been  handsome,  was  stained  and  mark- 
ed by  dissipation — he  was  the  one  who 
stared  at  Valerie  most  offensively  and 
it  was  he  whom  Denzil  longed  to  knock 
down, 

"That  girl  is  a  long  time  coming," 
the  tall  man  said  to  his  companion. 
And  when  he  spoke  it  seemed  to  Denzil, 
that  he  had  heard  the  voice  before. 
He  did  not  know  why,  but  it  brought 
a  disagreeable  sensation  with  it — as 
if  he  had  met  the  man  and  had  heard 
the  voice  in  some  disagreeable  con- 
nection— and  it  was  not  recently  either. 
It  seemed  to  him  as  if  this  man's  objec- 
tionable personality  had  been  known 
to  him  when  he  was  young,  and  it 
seemed  to  bring  the  remembrance  of 
some  vague  fear  with  it.  But  he  could 
not  fix  it  at  all,  and  the  manner  of  his 
looking  at  Valerie  was  decidedly  ill- 
bred. 

The  girl  teased  him  a  little  when  they 
had  got  back  to  the  motor.  "I  be- 
lieve you  would  like  to  keep  me  shut 
up  in  a  harem,"  she  said. 


"You  are  quite  wrong  !  I  love  to 
see  men  admire  you — but  they  must 
admire  you  respectfully.  This  man 
looked  as  if  he  had  never  respected  a 
woman  in  his  life  !  I  should  have 
liked   to  knock  him  down  !" 

"You   looked    like   that,"    she^said 


laughing.     "I  had  no  idea  you  were  so 
pugnacious,  Denzil  !" 

Then  they  got  into  the  motor  and 
were  whirled  home  and  reached  Barr- 
anmuir,  just  as  the  sun  was  beginning 
to  gild  the  western  skies. 

"I  have  to  go  in,"  said  Denzil  with 
a  sigh. 

"I   will   stay   out   on    the    terrace," 
said  Valerie,  "and 
watch  the  sunset 
awhile. 

Denzil  left  her 
reluctantly,  but 
he  was  very  con- 
scientious — too 
much  so — he  used 
to  say  with  a  sigh, 
and  there  was 
work  he  had  to  do . 

Valerie  had 
honestly  meant 
to  walk  up  and 
down  the  terrace 
just  to  get  warm 
after  her  long 
motor  drive,  but 
after  a  turn  or 
two,  words  heard 
that  morning  at 
breakfast  came 
back  to  her. 
Robert  would  be 
returning  aboui 
this  time— would 
Dolly  Brent  be 
with  him?  Would 
she  have  kept 
close  to  him  all 
day  ?  The  de- 
mon of  jealousy 
began  to  burn  in 
the  girl's  breast. 

"I  shall  walk 
down  to  the  cop- 
pice," she  said  to 
herself  "and  wait 
there.  They  will 
not  see  me,  if  I 
sta\'in  the  wood." 

The  coppice  of 
flaming  beech 
trees  was  just  at 
the  bend  of  the 
avenue  and  the 
other  side  was 
hidden  from  the 
house.  As  Valerie 
walked,  she  knew 
quite  well  that 
theyesire  to  see 
Robert  again  was 
hot  within  her. 
Jealousy  was  not 
the  only  driving  force.  She  felt  as  if 
she  could  not  bear  to  live  with- 
out knowing  where  she  stootl  with 
Rol)ert. 

"If  he  loves  Dolly,  he  could  never 
have  loved  me,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"Malmost  wish  he  had  never  loved 
rae — no,  I  don't — I  would  not  give  up 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

the  remembrance  of  his  love  for  any- 
thing in  the  world  !" 

He  was  late,  she  noted,  consulting 
her  wrist-watch.  He  would  not  be 
able  to  send  off  his  letters  to-night — 
unless  indeed  he  had  got  home  before 
she  had — but  that  was  not  likely. 
Shooting  and  Dolly  Brent  would  keep 
him   out,    Valerie    knew    that  !       She 


^ 


"DON  T,  VALERIE,  DON  T,     HE  SAID,  A  LITTLE  THICKLY.      BUT  SHE  HELD  HIM  WITH  HER  EYES, 
AND  THE  NEXT  INSTANT  SHE  WAS  IN  HIS  ARMS 


half-turned    to  go  back,  with  one  last 
glance  at  the  moor. 

Here  he  came — and  alone  !  Valerie's 
heart  gave  a  great  leap  !  He  was 
alone,  walking  fast  as  if  in  a  hurry. 
The  girl  did  not  know  w-hy  at  that 
moment  there  flashed  across  her  mental 
vision  the  tall  figure  of  the  man  who 


181 

had  stared  at  her  so  impertinently  at 
the  inn,  that  day  at  luncheon. 

But  she  dismissed  the  thought  and 
concentrated  all  her  strength  upon 
Robert.  Now  that  he  was  coming 
towards  her,  with  that  splendid  free 
stride  of  his,  his  handsome  head  held 
so  high,  she  felt  as  if  she  would  need 
all  her  strength  to  resist  him  !  Not 
that  he  would 
make  an  advance 
to  her  !  But  her 
heart  must  resist 
him  !  She  said  to 
herself,  that  she 
loved  even  the 
rough  tweed  that 
he  wore  and  that 
became  him  so 
well. 

And  before  he 
saw  her,  she  was 
aware,  that  he 
was  humming  a 
song  !  He  could 
hum  then  !  In 
the  lightness  of 
his  heart,  he  was 
singing  as  he  was 
walking  !  This 
little  fact  mad- 
dened her.  She 
stepped  forward 
suddenly  from 
the  coppice  and 
he  gave  a  quick 
start 

"Valerie  !"  he 
said.  Her  sudden 
apparition  had 
forced  that  word 
from  him.   ■  i 

"Yes,  "she  said, 
"it  is  I,  Robert." 
He  gave  a  quick 
look  round— there 
seemed  no  one  to 
see  their  meeting. 
It  was  still  light 
and  the  gold  of 
the  sunset  was 
flaring  and  flam- 
ing in  the  sky. 
The  east  was  blue 
and  there  layover 
park  and  moors 
that  peculiar  haze 
of  the  coming 
frost.  Valerie, 
stepping  forward 
from  under  the 
golden  beech 
trees,  wrapped  in 
her  sables,  har- 
monised in  color  with  her  surround- 
ings. Except  that  her  eyes  were 
deep  and  almost  dark  with  feeling  and 
her  mouth  burnt  crimson  in  the  i)allor 
of  her  face. 

"You  came  to  meet  me." 
"Yes,"  she  said  steadily. 

Continued  on  page  225. 


Ai>  "  ^ 


^^ 


4 


ffDE  MOOSE,  HE  IS  NOT  W'AT  YOU  CALL  HAN'SOME- 
PLAIKTEE    TOO    MUCH  FACE  FOR  THE  KIN'  OP 

FACE  IT  IS,  you  on'erstand" 


CELIA  Dear, — Do  not  hold  it 
against  me  that  I  have  not 
answered  your  letter  sooner. 
I  forgot.  The  wilderness  weeds 
a  man's  thoughts- — Louis  told  me  so, 
and  I  believe  him.  Have  you  ever 
gone  down  on  your  knees  to  clean  out 
a  garden  bed  ?  If  so,  you  must  have 
noticed  how  eager  the  young  plants 
and  shoots  are  to  mix  with  the  grass, 
creeping  Charlie,  mulleins,  and  rag- 
weed,— and  get  yanked  out  by  the 
roots.  So  it  is  in  this  wilderness 
weeding — among  the  empty  Noughts 
and  the  foolish  ones  go  a  few  we  ought 
to  hang  on  to.  I  had  no  business 
forgetting  to  write  you.  Forgive  me. 
I've  rescued  the  dear  little  root  of 
remembrance,    wilted,    but   alive;    re- 

182 


The  Moose  of 
JJear  1  mg 

BEING  THE  SECOND  LETTER  OF  BETTY  BLUE  TO 

HER  CITY  COUSIN  CELIA,  AND  HAVING  TO  DO 

WITH  MOOSE  HUNTING  IN  THE  FAR  NORTH 

OLD  LOUIS  THE  HALF  BREED  GUIDE 

yOYAGEUR,  AND  OTHER  THINGS 

By  Jean  Blewett 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 


planted  it,  and  intend  to  take 
good  and  tender  care  of  it  from 
this  time  forth.  This  shall  be 
the  longest  letter,  dear,  by  way 
of  making  amends. 

I'll  begin  with  our  moose 
hunt,  and,  maybe,  end  with  it; 
for  there's  much  to  tell. 

We  had  our  initiation  two 
weeks  ago.  We  were  all  in  it, 
from  little  Joan,  who  kept  fast 
hold  of  the  fringe  on  Louis' 
shooting  jacket  —  a  gorgeous 
affair  donned  in  honor  of  the 
occasion — down,  or  up,  to  Peter. 
I  carried  the  game  bag  made 
for  me  by  Louis  out  of  two 
fox  skins  he  had  tanned  by  a 
process  of  his  own.  Not  that 
I  was  tenderfoot  enough  to 
dream  of  bringing  a  moose  home 
in  it,  but  a  stray  tag  of  vanity 
reminded  me  that  fox  skin  was 
the  fashionable  fur  this  season, 
so  I  flung  it  jauntily  about  me. 
Peter  and  Louis  wore  their  guns 
"with  a  difference."  Peter  had 
his  over  his  shoulder.  He  acted 
as  if  he  were  a  little  scared 
of  the  thing,  but  didn't  intend  to  let 
on — perhaps  this  was  why  he  was  left 
to  bring  up  the  rear.  The  old  half 
breed's  rifle  seemed  a  part  of  himself. 
The  stock  of  it  was  in  his  armpit,  the 
muzzle  pointed  earthward,  and  the 
hand  hugging  it  to  his  side  was  a 
master's  hand.  As  we  watched  him 
remove  the  brass  cap  from  the  nipple, 
before  starting,  he  looked  up  with  his 
characteristic  grin. 

"Now  she  is  w'at  you  call  tongue- 
tie,"  he  explained.  "I  lak  a  gun,  but 
she  mus'  spik  w'en  she  is  spik  to,  dat 
be  all.  Las'  fall  I  tak'  a  English  hunter 
to  de  lak'  for  duck.  Beeg  man  he  is, 
an'  great  yam.  He  tell  of  how 
mooch  shoot  he  can  do.  All  tam  tell 
of  bear,  an'  moose,  an'  duck  he  bring 


down,  an'  I  have  to  sit,  me,  an'  lis'en- 
till  I'm  seeck.  Den  firs'  t'ing  I  know- 
he  is  let  his  gun  go  off  bang  !  bang  ?' 
an'  shoot  hole  in  ma  hat.  Nex'  day 
ol'  Louis  is  stay  in  camp,  an'  come  dis 
mi'ty  man  on  de  shoot  to  see  w'y  I 
ain't  dere  wit'  canoe.  W'en  he  fin' 
out  I'm  not  goin'  he  get  mad,  oh,  gosh, 
he  get  mad  !  He  say  I'm  no  sport. 
"  'Dat's  it,  '  I  tell  heem,  'If  I  was  sport 
I  try  some  more.  You  an'  your  gun 
bot'  talk  too  fas'  for  me.'  You  know 
w'at  Indian  say  'bout  de  whiskey: 
'De  leetle  too  mooch  be  jus'  'nough.' 
Wall,  I  got  'nough.  I  don'  min'  if  you 
blow  ma  head  off,  but  I  don'  lak'  hole 
in  ma  hat,  b'gosh  !  De  diff'rence 
b'tween  wise  man  an'  fool  ain't  mooch 
so  far  as  de  man  his'sef  is  concern', 
but  w'en  it  come  to  de  folk  about 
heem,  wall,  dat  be  'noder  matter," 
he  went  on,  glancing  back  at  the  rear 
guard. 

"Do  you  think  I'm  careless  with  this 
handsome  new  repeater  of  mine  ?" 
asked    Peter   good    naturedly. 

"Me,  I  don'  t'ink  not'in'  at  all," 
chuckled  Louis,  "but  don'  you  shoot 
hoi'  in  ma  hat,  min'  dat,  Boss.  Re- 
peater no  good  for  breed,"  he  con- 
tinued. "How's  dat  ?  Oh  geev  too 
many  chances.  Breed  lazy,"  with 
a  shrug.  "He  tell  his'sef  there's  no 
hurry,  if  he  don'  get  his  game  firs' 
shot  w'y  no  matter,  he  hav'  seex, 
or  ten  shot  behin'  dat.  All  he  hav' 
do  is  crook  de  finger.  Mebbe  all  right 
for  white  man,  bad  for  breed.  W'en. 
old  Louis  tak'  aim  he  hav'  one  good 
bullet  he  mould  wit'  his  own  han', 
and  he  know  dam  well  if  he  don'  sit 
fas'  on  de  job  an'  be  bot'  quick  an' 
steady,  he's  goin'  lose  hees  chance  an' 
waste  hees  bullet. 

"W'en  a  fellar  mak'  hees  own 
bullet  he  don'  t'row  it  away  if  he  caa 
halp,  b'gosh  I" 

Celia,  I  have  no  space  or  heart  to- 


describe  the  trail  we  followed,  and  we 
followed  it  far.  When  we  came  within 
sight  of  the  lake,  Louis  hid  us  behind  a 
windfall.  The  hard  part  of  a  hunt  is 
the  waiting.  By  and  by  when  I  was 
half  asleep,  I  heard  Louis  say  in  answer 
to  a  quer>'  of  Joan's: 

"De  moose  is  not  w'at  you  call 
han'som',"  with  fine  toleration.  "He 
have  plaintee  too  much  face  for  de 
kin'  of  face  it  is,  you  on'erstan'.  Dey 
say  de  moder  moose  shut  de  eye  w'en 
she  drink  out  de  stream  for  fear  she 
see  herse'f  in  de  water,  but  I  don' 
b'lieve  it.  Bet  dat  moder  moose 
t'ink  she's  de  fines'  in  de  Ian',  an'  dat 
her  calf  is  such  nice  leetle  t'ing,  be 
golly  !  she's  'fraid  he  die  before  he 
grow  up.  We  see  de  bull  moose  soon, 
he  pass  here  early  dis  momin';  by  an' 
f}y  he  return." 

I  Peter  and  I  simultaneously  asked 
how  he  knew. 

"Tracks,"  laconically.  "Mebbe 
jyou  t'ink  Louis  tell  lie,  eh  ?  Dere  be 
no  tracks  to  see  in  de  t'ick  leaves — 
wait  !"  Flat  on  his  stomach  he  was 
tunnelling  a  passage  through  the 
pungent  carpet  the  birch  and  balm 
had  spread  everywhere.  We  watched 
him,  fascinated.  He  would  not  satisfy 
our  curiosity  at  once.  He  must  do 
some  of  his  delicious  moralizing. 

"Yes,  he  leave  track  all  right. 
Not'in'  go  so  secret  but  de  wilderness 
catch  its  trail— not  even  de  snake. 
Me,  I  t'ink  if  Adam  he  be  all  Indian, 
ar  half  Indian  mebbe,"  with  a  hint  of 
pride  in  his  raillery,  "he  hear  ol'  Nick 
mak'  sf>f'  rus'le  in  de  grass  on  way  to 
tpple  tree  an'  veeset  wit'  de  madam, 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

yes.  No  use  for  poor  moose  try  hide 
w'ich  way  he  go.  Look  de  size  of 
heem  !  De  bigger  de  animal  de 
heavier  hees  foot.  You  know  how  it 
is — w'en  de  bes'  man  of  all  tak'  wrong 
turn  de  dulles'  hound  in  de  pack  is 
hunt  heem  down." 

"Let  him  keep  straight."  Peter 
tendered  this  solution  of  the  matter 
with  the  arrogance  of  the  truly  good. 

"Sure  t'ing,"  cried  Louis,  with  a 
laugh  I  didn't  just  like,  but  couldn't 
help  joining  in.  It  is  a  trick  of  his — 
he  gets  one's  approval  rarely,  but  one's 
sympathies  every  time.  "Now  I 
show  you  where  dis  moose  plant  hees 
toe — come  !  You  see  it  here,  an'  here, 
an'  here,  w'at  you  t'ink,  eh  ?" 

Sure  enough  we  see  here,  an'  here, 
an'  here,  the  prints  left  by  the  "ant- 
lered  dweller  of  the  wild"  in  the  soft 
earth  under  the  leaves,  inches  of 
lea\es. 

"Louis,  Louis,  what  chance  has  the 
poor  moose  when  you  give  chase  !" 
I  exclaimed,  and  he  looked  tickled 
with  himself. 

"Dat  so,  but  Louis  don't  geeve  chase 
jus'  for  fun,  no,  no.  W'en  de  platter 
she  be  empty  he  mus'  fill  it,  eh  ?  W'en 
de  pouch,"  slapping  the  beaded  purse 
which  hung  on  his  belt,  "she  be  gone 
dry  he  mus'  fin'  som'thing  put  in  it, 
dat's  all.  Louis  keep  de  wilderness 
law — you  know  dat  law  ?  No  ?  Den 
I  teach  you — not  dat  you'll  need  de 
law  to  keep  you  in  bounds,  you  have 
not  de  hunter's  heart.  You  don'  know 
w'at  dat  mean,  eh  ?  I  tell  you.  De 
man,  be  he  white,  red,  or  no  account 
half  breed  who  is  bom  wit'  de  hunter's 


183 

heart,  is  all  for  kill.  He  don'  min' 
'bout  de  money  he  mak'  wit'  traders, 
not  w'ile  he's  on  de  chase.  Jus'  to 
run  fox  to  earth,  wolf  to  cover,  wil'  cat 
to  lair,  see  de  live  t'ing  tumble  down 
dead.  Dis  is  w'at  he  lak'.  His  rifle, 
arrow,  or  mebbe  knife,  no  matter  w'at, 
it  sing  de  song  dat's  heap  up  run  over- 
wit'  hip  hurrah  w'en  it  mak'  de  kill. 
He  is  not  to  blame — if  le  Bon  Dieu 
mak'  man  he  mus'  mak'  de  heart  oh 
heem  too,  don'  you  see  ?  Al'  same,  I 
lak'  not  to  hab  dat  kin'  ob  heart 
myse'f." 

"You  old  fraud  !"  jeered  Peter, 
"Simon  Fraser  tells  me  you  sell  more 
pelts  than  any  other  hunter  in  the 
north." 

Louis  acknowledged  the  fact  with 
a  nod,  "Dat  is  because  de  pouch  empty 
so  darn  queeck.  I  am  poor  man,  and 
poor  man  in  de  wilds,  or  anywhere  else 
— mus'  make  de  kill  w'en  he  can,  not 
w'en  he  wish,  no,  no." 

"You  spoke  of  the  wilderness  law, 
Louis.  What  is  that  law  ?"  I  en- 
quired. 

"To  take  w'at  is  need  an'  no  more. 
So  if  dere  be  twenty  moose  madam  mus' 
let  nin'teen  go  because  one  moose  he 
is  meat  enough.  S'pose  you  shoot  de 
whole  twenty,  dat  is  waste,  an'  in  de 
beeg  Nort',  w'at  wan  waste  anoder  is 
lak'  to  want.  Twenty  moose  is — " 
but  I  bade  him  hold  his  tongue. 

Joan  smoothed  the  scowl  from  be- 
tween his  grizzled  eyebrows  with  her 
bit  of  a  hand,  asserting  that  her  Louis 
was  good,  very  good. 

"Sure  t'ing,  'spect  de  wings  dey  be 
sprout  'fore  long,  Dear  T'ing,  (his  peL 


•-r—a>^.   .. 


K 


^^- 


i 


1   M.VIM  V     v..  H|.    !>-,  THl-:   Mcif)SK  IS  A  GOOD  SWIMMEK.       IN  THE  WATER,  HE    MAKES  A  WAKE  MH 

ACHIEVES  AN  ASTONISHING  AMUL'NT  OF  SPEED 


'Hi:-llc)AT  AND 


184 


CANADA  MOxXTllLV 


name  for  the  child)  and  ol'  Louis  fly 
high." 

Joan  jumped  with  excitement.  "And 
will  you  be  an  angel,  Louis  ?"  she 
asked. 

"Oh,  no,  jus'  tough  ol'  wild  goose, 
dat's  all,"  he  told  her. 

"It  would  be  nicer  to  be  an  angel," 
urged  the  child.  Wild  geese  are  com- 
mon in  the  North,  but  not  a  glimpse 
has  she  had  of  an  angel. 

"Wall,  you  see  ol'  Louis  ain't  work 
mooch  at  angel  business,  an'  he's  been 
goose  all  his  life,  wild  goose  at  dat. 
So  goose  he's  boun'  to  be,  eh  ?  Dear 
T'ing,  getting  de  wing  don'  change  de 
man,  it  only  geeve  heem  chance  to  go 
up  in  de  air." 

"How  long  do  you  think  the  moose 
-will  keep  us  waiting  ?"  broke  in  Peter. 

Louis  shook  his  head,  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  "Mebbe  wan  hour, 
mebbe  two,  I  dunno.  White  man," 
Avith  a  leer  at  Peter  who  has  consulted 


his  watch  about  every  five  minutes, 
"t  ink  tam  so  precious,  he  all  de  w'ile 
keep  tag  on  it.  De  wilderness  people 
don'  boder  how  long  dey  wait,  dere 
tam  is  dere  own.  Once  w'en  I  shoot  de 
beeg  black  fox  .1  lay  behin'  log  from  de 
night  before  las'  to  day  after,  an'  don' 
ask  myself  w'at  tam'  it  is  at  all." 

But  after  awhile  Peter  forgot  his 
impatience  and  I  my  tiredness  for 
Louis  set  himself  to  do  the  honors  of 
the  wilderness.  We  were  just  guests, 
he  belonged  there. 

In  my  last  letter,  Celia,  speaking  of 
this  moose  hunt,  I  quoted,  in  fun, 
your  remark  re  your  visits  to  the  women 
in  the  ward,  "I  want  to  see  where  and 
how  they  live,  and  if  they  are  kind  to 
their  babies."  Well,  the  man  who 
said  that  many  a  wise  word  was  spoken 
in  jest  knew  what  he  was  talking  about. 
Picture  us  in  the  forest  jirimeval,  in 
the  distance  a  lake  hedged  with  frosted 
poplars,   like  a  blue  eye  with  golden 


lashes,  I  with  my  moccasined  fee 
tucked  under  me,  Peter  in  the  back 
ground,  Joan  covering  herself  witl 
leaves  like  the  blessed  babe  in  the  woo( 
she  is,  and  Louis  giving  us  a  natura 
history  lesson  right  here  where  natun 
lives  the  whole  year  round.  Usualb 
one  learns  by  letting  certain  truth: 
filter  into  one's  consciousness,  bu 
truths  that  come  first  hand  do  no 
filter,  they  flood.  A  good  thing,  too 
for  thus  are  the  mistakes,  errors  anc 
prejudices  washed  away,  leaving  roon 
for  the  realities. 

"Pooh !"  you  will  be  exclaiming  now 
"what  can  an  Indian  teach  that  on» 
can't  learn  from  books  without  th« 
hardship  of  a  trip  like  that  ?" 

Celia,  in  books  we  get  a  lot  of  th( 
author  and  a  little,  very  little,  of  th< 
truth.  Oh,  the  "reading  up"  I  die 
before  starting  !  Thank  heaven  it  ha; 
been  flooded  out  by  just  such  lesson; 
Continued  on  page  205. 


Kirsty  MacFarlane's  Cow 


By  Donald  G.  PVench 

Illustrated  bv  R,  E.  Stolz 


vey  to  you  an  idea  of  the  part 
he  played  in  the  community — Suther- 
land was  "Sutherland's"  and  -any- 
one of  the  village  or  township  will 
know  what  that  means.  He  did 
not    merely  accommodate    the  public 


>^^:''^H' 


'^•''  '< 
.  [^\\-- 


STOUT,  chubby  little  Miss  Ram- 
say was  hurrying  down  the  rough 
board  walk  of  the  main  street  of 
the  village  as  fast  as  her  stoutness 
and  the  unevenness  of  the  worn  pine 
planks  would  allow.    An  oblong  yellow 
paper    fluttered    in    her 
hand.      But    a    moment      ] 
before     it     seemed    that 
the  July  heat  had  bathed 
the  whole  life  of  the  vil- 
lage   in    the    somnolence 
of  an  Italian  siesta.    Now 
appeared,  here  and  there, 
faces  behind  the  curtains 
of    house     and     cottage, 
and     recumbent     figures 
upon  verandahs  woke  to 
life.     By    the    time    the 
plump    little    maiden 
reached    her    destination 
almost  the  whole  hamlet 
had  been  galvanized  into 
life. 

A  telegram  !  A  tele- 
gram to  anybody  in  the 
village  was  something  to 
be  talked  about  and  if 
it  were  for  "Suther- 
land's," why  then  it 
might  interest  the  countryside.  For  and  dispense  liquor;  he  dispensed 
Sutherland,  be  it  known,  was — now,  friendship,  radiated  goodwill,  help- 
it  will  not  do  to  say  "the  hotel-  ed  the  needy  and  befriended  the 
keeper,"    because  that   will    not  con-     friendless.      So    that    a    message    to 


Sutherland  might  be  a  message  foi 
anybody — might  be  news  that  needec 
the  softening  process  that  only  som< 
tactful  intermediary  could  give — anc 
who  but  Sutherland  ? 

Sutherland      has      the      telegram. 
"What's   this?      What'j 


T| 


this 


Bad  news  ?" — No, 


h 


AUNT  KIRSTY  CA.ME,  LOOKED  AT  THE  SEVEN  HUNDRED  AND  FIFTY  DOLLA 
AND  SAID  NOTHING 


for  after  the  first  start 
of  surprise,  he  calls, 
"Boys,  I'll  read  it  to  you. 
You're  all  in  it,"  and 
reads  it  word  for  word : 
"Washington, 

July  20th,  1882. 
Duncan  Sutherland, 
Cedardale,  Ont. 
Am  coming  home  on 
Wednesday  morning 
train.  Glad  to  hear  Suth- 
erland's is  still  in  your 
care. 

Alexander  MacFarlane." 

Sandy  MacFarlane, 

coming  home  !    What    a 

babel  of  reminiscence  was 

let   loose  !      First  to   fix 

the  date  of  his  departure. 

"It    was     thirty-eight 

years  ago." 

"No,      it    was-s     thir-rty-sef-fen," 

objected    "Easy"    Andrew,    so    called 

because  he  spoke  with  a  slowness  and 

great  effort. 


i 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


185 


"It  was  the  spring  after  the  Munro's 
louse  had  been  burned,"  asserted 
k'oung  Alec  McNiven,  getting  down 
;o  something  tangible.  "Young"  Alec, 
jy  the  way,  was  wearing  on  to  sixty- 
line,  but  "Old"  Alec  was  still  fresh  and 
imart  at  ninety-three,  so  the  desig- 
lation  may  remain.  "Well,  that  would 
nake  it  thirty-six  years  since  the 
;tripling  of  sixteen  had  hurriedly 
icparted  for  "the  States."  And 
Munro's  house  was  a  good  thing  to 
mark  by,  as  it  happened,  for  it  was  at 
the  "bee"  called  for  the  purpose  of 
rel)uilding  the  Monro  dwelling  that 
Sandy  MacFarlane  fell  foul  of  Black 
Jack  Eraser's  Johnny,  and  with  a 
kvhiffletree  left  him  in  a  precarious 
"ondition — such  a  condition  that  a 
'warrant  was  out"  for  Sandy's  arrest, 
altliough  when  Johnny  Fraser  was 
again  well  enough  to  give  particulars 
of  the  fight,  he  refused  to  say  anything 
except  that  "he  didn't  blame  Sandy." 
B\-  that  time,  however,  nobody  knew 
where  Sandy  was.  And  now  he  was 
coming  home!  Wouldn't  his  mother 
be  glad  ! 

Oh,  yes,  they  had  heard  about  him 
before  this.  The  village  held  a  few  who 
enjoyed  the  unique  distinction  of 
ixnsioners,"  having  fought  with  the 
army  of  the  North  during  the  American 
Ci\il  War.  These  men  had  brought 
ba(  k  stories  of  a  Colonel  MacFarlane 
who  was  making  a  name  for  himself  in 
the  western  division  of  the  army. 
Later,  too,  when  Canadians  were 
■Jrifting  over  the  border  and  down  to 
N'el)raska  and  Colorado,  word  came 
'back  home"  of  a  MacFarlane  who 
was  piling  up  big  money  in  mining. 
Later  still,  when  the  efflux  shifted  to 
Dakota  and  other  Northwestern 
States,  and  included  MacFarlanes  of 
distant  connection,  it  was  positively 
affirmed  that  Sandy  MacFarlane  had 
been  recognized  in  the  great  wheat 
grower  of  southern  Dakota,  and  that  he 
:)wned  a  whole  town  with  the  countr>' 
arfiund  it.  And  now,  to  think  that 
Sandy  was  coming  home — home  to 
ittle  Cedardale  !  Wouldn't  his 
brothers  Donald  and  Archie  be  glad  ! 

He  was  coming  from  Washington. 
Of  course.  Hadn't  you  heard  that  he 
was  now  the  most  powerful  Senator 
west  of  the  Mississippi  ?  Oh,  yes,  and 
mayl.ic  some  day  he  would  be  president. 
But  Duncan  McAlastair,  who  read 
"The  Globe"  faithfully  every  day  but 
Sunday,  and  ais<^)  another  paper  in  the 
siimc  clay,  "just  to  see  wha-at  lies 
they  would  be  tcllin',"  and  because  of 
this  broadness  of  mind,  was  regarded 
as  an  unimpeachable  authority,  had 
quelled  the  .swelling  ambition  of  all 
Sandy's  admirers  by  informing  them 
that  no  Canadian  could  ever  l)ecome 
president  of  "the  States."  The  presi- 
dent must  be  native  born.  Well, 
they   didn't   care.      Here   Sandy   was 


r  DON'T  KNOW  WIIKTHKR  TO  TKLL  YE  OR  NOT.       I  DONT  KNOW  WIIETIIHR 
YELL  BE  CAKING  lO  r.IVB  ME  WHAT  I  WANT" 


coming    home.      Wouldn't    his    Aunt 
Kirsty  be  just  delighted  ! 

And«  Sandy  came  !  Rode  down  from 
the  station  in  the  old  bus  just  like  any 
of  the  other  boys  coming  home.  What 
a  gathering  there  was  at  Sutherland's 
to  meet  him  !  Still  ruddy-cKeeked  and 
blue-eyed,  lithe  and  erect,  but  grey  to 
whilene.ss.  And  he  knew  them  all  ! 
And  he  had  gifts  for  all — "Rings  on  her 
fingers  and  bells  on  her  toes" — runs  the 
s<jng,  but  Sandy  showered  them  with 
diamonds,  big  diamonds,  little  dia- 
monds; tie  pins,  and  rings,  and  watch 
charms — he  seemed  to  carry  a  whole 
( i  imond  reef  about  with  him. 


They  had  a  merry  time.  The  same 
fun-loving  Sandy,  it  seemed  to  them. 
Oh,  he  had  a  temper  too,  in  the  old 
days — but  you  see,  on  an  occasion  like 
this,  there  was  nothing,  not  even  the 
littlest  thing  to  annoy  him.  But  he 
could  be  serious  and  thoughtful  too. 
The  few  days  he  could  afford  to  spend 
were  soon  gone  and  on  the  last  he 
spent  an  hour  or  two  closeted  with 
Sutherland  and  Wilson,  the  banker 
(an  Englishman,  by  the  way,  but 
thoroughly  trusted  and  highly  respect- 
ed in  an  alien  community). 

"You  know,  Sutherland,"  Sandy 
said,  "I'm  rich  !     I've  millions,  but  I 


186 

don't  think  it  would  do  mother  and  the 
boys  any  g;ood  to  give  them  money. 
I'm  afraid  it  would  only  cause  trouble. 
Now,  I  want  you  and  Wilson  to  pick 
but  the  best  farm  you  can  find,  and  get 
it  down  by  the  lake,  for  the  boys  must 
have  some  fishing.  Buy  it  for  my 
mother,  and  put  the  rest  of  this  money 
I'm  leaving  with  you,  in  the  bank,  so 
that  she  can  draw  a  little  any  time  she 
needs  it.  And  then  there's  Aunt 
Kirsty,  I'd  have  given  her  a  farm  too, 
but  she  wouldn't  have  it.  I  want  you 
tojsearch  the  province  and  buy  her  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

very  best  and  finest — "  but  I  think 
I'll  let  Aunt  Kirsty  tell  about  that  part 
of  it  herself. 

She  met  Sutherland  a  couple  of  days 
later  and  naturally  was  full  of  Sandy's 
visit. 

"I  wass  sittin'  out  at  the  door, 
workin'  at  my  knittin'  and  I  hears  a 
step,  and  I  looks  up,  and  there  wass 
the  pr-rettiest  man  in  the  whole  world. 
Oh,  the  fine  big  ma-an  that  he  wass. 
And  he  says  to  me,  'Aunt  Kirsty,  do 
you  remember  me  ?' 

"  'Sandy,'  I  says,  'I  never  forgot  ye.' 


"And  he  says,  'But  you  wouldn't 
remember  me  as  I  am  ?' 

"  'No,  Sandy,  but  I  remember  ye 
as  you  were.'  Oh,  the  beautiful  blue 
eyes  of  him  ! 

"And  he  says  to  me,  'Aunt  Kirsty, 
ye  were  always  kind  to  ipe,  and  now  I 
want  to  give  ye  something.  I  want  to 
give  ye  what  ye  would  like  best  in  the 
whole  world.  Don't  be  in  a  hurry 
makin'  yer  choice  !  Whatever  it  is, 
just  tell  me  and  I'll  get  it  for  ye.' 

"  'Sandy,'  I  says,  'I  don't  know 
Continued  on  page  207. 


The  Man  of  the  Long  Trail 


C.  F.  W.  ROCHFORT,  WHOSE  HOME  COUNTRY  BEGINS  BEYOND  THE  JUMPING 
OFF  PLACE,  WHERE  TRAILS  RUN  OUT  AND  STOP 

By  Katherine  Trent 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 

Such  a  one  I  found  lying  helpless  on 
the  cot  of  a  Toronto  hospital,  very  ill, 
the  whole  six  feet  of  him  stretched 
wearily  out  under  the  white  cover,  the 
handsome  bronzed  face  of  him  drawn 
and  whitened.  I  said  some  common- 
place words  of  sympathy — that  I  was 
sorry  to  see  him  there  suffering.  He 
smiled,   "O,  it  is  good  medicine,"   he 


UNDOUBTEDLY,  it  is  good  to 
be  a  law-abiding,  home-keeping 
citizen,    in   at   a   discreet    nine 
o'clock,    putting      on      winter 
underwear    the     last   .of     November, 
pleasantly       acquainted       with       the 
street-car    conductor    who    takes    one 
punctually  to  the  office,  and  with  the 
■corner  policeman  on  the   lookout  for 
■curfew-flouting 
youngsters.     Of 
such  is  Canada's 
sturdy     citizenry 
made,    and      no- 
body would  have 
it  different. 

But  there  is 
another  sort  of 
man,  in  bulk 
■equally  import- 
ant to  Canada, 
and  individually 
vastly  more  im- 
por tan  t — the 
foreloper,  the 
landlooker,  the 
pioneer  with  the 
wild  drop  in  his 
blood  that  sends 
him  out  beyond 
the  frontier  to 
make  his  home  where  the  dark  finds 
him,  anywhere  across  the  upper  half 
of  the  continent,  to  foregather  with 
Esquimaux,  Cree  or  Siwash,  French 
voyageur,  Scotch  factor,  or  dusky  half- 
breed,  and  to  come  and  go  familiarly 
where  the  maps  offer  only  blank  spaces 
to  the  eye  of  the  beholder  and  survey 
lines  are  unheard  of  conventions. 


said,  "medicine"  in  his  phrase  meaning 
discipline. 

"What  is  wrong  with  the  Lion  of  the 
Mountains  ?"  I  asked  him. 

Again  he  gave  that  stoical  smile, 
"Civilization,"  said  he  briefly.  "I'm 
always  laid  low  with  it — four  walls  in 
which  to  breathe  and  move  are  too 
much  for  me." 


In   a   way,  that  sums   up    C.  F.  W. 
Rochfort.     That  he  is  the  handsomest 
man  in  the  west,  is  a  detail.     That  he  is 
the  descendant  of  a  long  line  of  fighting 
Irish    forebears,    is    unimportant     in 
Canada,    where    the    question   is  not 
what  your  grandfathers  did,  but  what 
you  yourself  can  do.     He  has  himself 
seen  military  service  in  South  Africa, 
But  that  he  is  a 
man      to     whom 
civilization  is  not 
necessary,  a  man 
who  can  go  out 
and   explore  and 
trace    Canada's 
unknown    re- 
sources  and  start 
the     entering 
wedge  that  shall 
open  up  new  dis- 
tricts    to    settle- 
ment, is  a  fact  of 
primary    import- 
ance. 

Some  few  years 
ago  he  was  invit- 
ed to  lecture  be- 
fore the  Royal 
Geographical  So- 
ciety of  London, 
and  although  his  other  interests  pre- 
vented him  from  doing  so,  he  was 
made  a  member  of  that  august  body, 
— an  honor  seldom  accorded  to  so 
young  a  man.  He  is  really  a  specialist 
in  an  age  of  specialism,  a  specialist 
in  the  field  of  exploring  unknown 
or  little  known  territories.  To 
him,     and     to     men     like     him,     the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


187 


British  Empire  owes  much  of  its  great- 
ness. 

The  Peace  River  country  and  the 
heart  of  British  Columbia  were  familiar 
as  his  own  dooryard  to  him,  long  before 
reaching  fingers  of  steel  stretched  north 
and  west  from  Edmonton. 

These  explorations  have  taken  him 
on  •  all  sorts  of  hazardous  journeys 
"where  the  foot  of  white  man  never 
trod  before.  Far  up  towards  the  Par- 
snip and  the  Yukon  he  has  gone,  in 
regions  where  the  Indians  know  no 
more  of  the  white  man  than  if  he  were 
a  messenger  of  the  gods.  More  than 
•once  he  has  narrowly  escaped  with  his 
Jife. 

Once  he  and  his  partner  were  out 
doing  some  assessment  work  in  the 
mountains.  They  had  had  a  hard  day, 
and  in  the  late  afternoon  made  camp, 
ate  food,  and  flung  themselves  down  to 
rest.  Although  it  was  evening,  in  that 
high  latitude  the  sun  was  still  bright, 
picking  out  objects  with  a  sharp  clarity 
and  bathing  them  in  a  flood  of  sloping 
golden  light. 

"Guess  we'll  call  it  a  day,"  said  his 
partner,  seating  himself  on  a  fifty- 
pound  box  of  80%  dynamite,  packed 
many  a  toilsome  mile  over  mountain 
trails  ,and  pulling  out  his  pipe. 

■"Guess  we  will,"  agreed  Mr.  Roch- 
fort,  extending  himself  at  ease  near  by. 
The  two  sank  into  the  leisurely  silence 
of  digestion  and  tobacco.  The  day 
began  to  fade  imperceptibly.  A  bird 
chirped  in  the  bush,  a  little  stream 
talked  foolishly  to  itself  around  a 
boulder.  Deep  peace  brooded  over 
the  solitary  camp.  Mr.  Rochfort  was 
nearly  asleep. 


'Ting  !"  A  bullet  spat  into  the  midst 
of  that  quiet  scene,  tearing  a  hole  in 
the  dust  and  galvanizing  the  two 
partners  into  swift  motion.  "Ping  !" 
It  was  followed  by  a  "chaser."  Mr. 
Rochfort  and  his  partner  gave  one 
anxious  glance  at  the  scenery,  decided 
that  discretion  was  the  better  part  of 
valor,  and  hastily  ducked  into  the  bush. 
Four  or  five  shots  more  whined  vicious- 
ly through  the  camp,  but  seeing  that 
their  quarry   was   out   of   reach,    the 


MR.  KOCHFOKT'l  RANCH-HOUSB — NOTICE  THE  HEADS  AND 
HORNS  DISPLAYED  ON  THE  WALLS 


Indians  on  the  mountain  who  had 
tried  a  casual  shot  in  passing,  went  on 
their  way.  Figure  to  yourself  the 
result,  had  one  of  those  bullets  hit  the 
box  of  dynamite  ! 

Far  up  in  the  Peace  River  country, 
Mr.  Rochfort  once  traded  a  cup  of 
flour  to  an  acquaintance,  and  was  paid 
for  it  with  a  green  stone. 

"Maybe  something  good,  maybe 
not,"  said  the  acquaintance.  "I  got 
it  off  an  Injun  who  thought  a  lot  of  it." 

It  looked  promising  to  Mr.  Rochfort, 
and  he  took  it,  although  at  the  spot 
where  the  trade  took  place,  a  cup  of 
flour  was  almost  worth  its  weight  in 
gold.  His  sister  was  the  final  recipient 
of  the  green  stone.  In  England  not 
long  after,  she  had  it  polished,  and  now 
wears  a  ^•ery  fine  emerald  indeed,  which 
the  original  Indian  owner  would  find 
difficulty  in  recognizing. 

And  this  brings  me  to  the  suliject  of 
the  Peace  River  country,  in  which  Mr. 
Rochfort  believes  whole-heartedly. 
As  most  of  the  world  knows  now,  this 
country  is  destined  to  become  a  rich 
agricultural  district,  but  as  yet  is  still 
very  much  of  a  pioneering  proposition. 
In  spite  of  all  deterrents,  however, 
settlement  is  now  beginning  there,  and 
some  of  the  districts  are  becoming 
thickly  populated.  South  of  Dunve- 
gan  lies  the  district  of  Grande  Prairie, 
where  over  fifteen  thousand  people  are 
farming.  For  sixty  years  there  have 
been  Catholic  missionaries  here,  and  it 
has  been  known  as  an  excellent  wheat- 
growing  area.  As  far  back  as  1893,  its 
wheat  took  first  prize  at  the  Chicago 
World's  Fair.  Fifteen  years  ago,  Mr. 
Rochfort  knew  this  countrv  and  fore- 


188 

saw  its  future.  Now  the  first  shadow- 
ings  of  his  prophecy  are  coming  true. 
And  now  he  is  turning  his  face  towards 
farther  fields. 

Two  years  ago,  he  set  out  from  Ed- 
monton one  sunny  May  morning  with 
a  party  bound  for  regions  where  time- 
tables were  not,  and  where  a  man's 
progress  depended  on  his  nerve  and 
muscle,  rather  than  on  his  check-book. 
Westward  they  went  to  the  head  of 
steel  on  the  Grand  Trunk  Pacific, 
which  was  at  that  time  at  Tete  Jaune 
Cache.  There  they  took  canoes  down 
the  Fraser  river  350  miles  to  Fort 
George,  where  they  outfitted  for  the 
rest  of  their  trip,  and  procured  a  larger 
boat  in  which  they  went  back  against 
the  Fraser's  current  for  forty  miles  to 
Giscombe  Portage,  where  they  made 
an  eight-mile  portage  over  an  old 
wagon  road,  used  by  the  early  pros- 
pectors. This  took  them  over  the 
divide,  and  gave  them  access  to  the 
farthest  headwaters  of  the  Peace  river. 
From  there,  they  followed  the  Crooked 
River  for  150  miles,  and  crossed  lakes 
to  Fort  Macleod,  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company  post.  Everything  here  has 
to  be  brought  in  by  pack-train  from  the 
Pacific  Coast,  and  costs  at  the  rate  of 
twenty  cents  a  pound  freightage. 
Then  they  went  two  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  by  canoe  down  the  Pack  and  the 
Parsnip  rivers  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Findlay,  and  then  paddled  seventy 
miles  up  the  Findlay  to  Fort  Graham, 
which  is  even  more  expensive  than 
Fort  Macleod,  everything  costing 
twenty-five  cents  a  pound  freightage. 

In  this  district,  Mr.  Rochfort  has 
some  valuable  mica  claims,  the  de- 
posits being  of  a  high  excellence. 
Mica  is  not  a  mere  ornament  for  the 
fronts  of  baseburners.  It  is  exten- 
sively used  in  electrical  appliances,  and 
is  extremely  valuable.  These  claims 
are  only  one  of  Mr.  Rochfort's  finds. 

Leaving  Fort  Graham,  they  paddled 
fifty  miles  up  river  to  the  location  of 
more  mineral  prospects,  and  then 
turned  their  faces  homeward.  Event- 
ually they  arrived  at  Athabasca  Land- 
ing, and  boarded  a  train  for  Edmonton, 
after  a  journey  of  three  thousand  miles. 
Here  they  arrived  in  splendid  physical 
condition.  In  the  words  of  Mr.  Roch- 
fort's companion,  "We  started  out  to 
see  a  district,  but  we  have  covered  an 
empire  !" 

The  human  side  of  Mr.  Rochfort  is 
the  most  fascinating  one,  however;  and 
of  that,  he  refuses  to  tell.  He  has  held 
me  breathless  with  stories  of  adventures 
and  incidents,  but  the  moment  I 
showed  signs  of  putting  one  in  this 
story,  he  stopped,  looked  at  me  quizzi- 
cally, and  shut  up  like  the  proverbial 
clam. 

When  I  saw  him  in  hospital,  he  was 
in  great  trouble  OAcr  the  child  of  a 
neighbor  of  his  on  the  Pembina  river. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

Between  spasms  of  his  own  pain,  he 
told  me  of  the  youngster,  who  suffered 
horribly  with  some  sort  of  seizures. 
Mr.  Rochfort  had  interested  his  friend, 
Dr.  Cobbett,  in  the  case;  and  although 
Dr.  Cobbett  is  a  busy  and  a  famous 
man  who  used  to  he  in  partnership 
with  two  of  the  greatest  surgeons  of 
London,  one  of  whom  operated  on 
King  Edward  before  the  coronation, 
Mr.  Rochfort's  account  of  the  child  had 
elicited  a  promise  from  the  doctor  to 
operate  on  it  for  sweet  charity's  sake. 
And  he,  lying  there  in  pain,  was  as 
pleased  as  a  boy  over  it. 

To  most  people,  however,  he  is  as 
unapproachable  as  the  top  of  Mount 
Blanc.  I  remember  seeing  a  short, 
cheery,  unabashed  young  Englishman 
walk  slowly  all  around  him  in  a  hotel, 
taking  in  all  his  magnificent  points. 
Mr.  Rochfort  might  have  been  alone 

i<;>ji^t<;>ji<;>ji<>  t<^  i$]  i<;3  i$j  i^i<^i<;>ji<;>ji^ 
^ 


Song  Against  % 

T  ^ 

Love        ^ 

By  Sara  Hamilton 


Birchall 


\^  Nay,  do  not  love  me  so,  dear !  ^ 
^  I  am  fire,  g 

^  And  floating  thistledown,  ^ 
J^  And  a  wild  bird  that  only  ^ 
^  loves  the  sea.    ^ 

\(^  I  answer  to  no  voice  except  \<^ 
^  my  own,  ^ 

^  And  no  warm  hearth  gleams^ 


firebright  for  me. 


t$J 


So  love  me  not. 


'^  Love  me  a  breath  alone,  dear,  ^ 
^  //  you  will  ^ 

X  Forget  as  light,  for  I  ^ 

tAj  Am  but  a  shadow,  drifting^ 
^  on  the  grass,     ^ 

i;^  A  night-wind  passing  lightly  ^ 
"(^  '     as  a  sigh,  ^ 

W  A  blossom  falling  from  the  ^ 
^  linden-tree.       T 

^  Why  should  you  grieve  for^ 
|Aj  such  a  frail  as  I  ?  ^ 

^  Nay,  love  me  not,  beloved,  or  t$i 
I$I  I  flee !  ($j 


on  a  desert  island,  lost  in  contemplation 
of  the  Infinite  for  all  the  notice  he 
took  of  him.  Finally  the  Englishmaa 
sighed,  shook  his  head,  and  said  almost 
wistfully,  "My  word  1  but  that's  my 
idea  of  a  man  !" 

I  have  seen  him  saunter  slowly — he 
never  hurries — down  Jasper  Avenue 
in  Edmonton,  and  you  would  imagine 
that  every  head  all  the  way  down  the 
street  was  operated  on  a  pivot.  But 
through  it  all  he  walks  serenely  undis- 
turbed, leonine,  aloof. 

The  Virginian,  once  remarked,  "Any 
full-grown  man  ought  to  have  a  power- 
ful lot  of  temper.  And  like  his  other 
valuable  possessions,  he  ought  not  to 
lose  any  of  it."  Mr.  Rochfort  has  a 
temper  seldom  lost,  but  Celtic,  chain- 
lightning-quick  when  it  strikes,  and 
terrific  during  the  performance.  This, 
by  the  way,  is  shared  in  common  with 
other  members  of  the  family.  Not 
long  since,  Mr.  Rochfort's  sister  was- 
staying  with  him  on  his  ranch  in 
Saskatchewan,  and  under  the  hospit- 
able roof  was  also  a  young  musician 
from  the  Old  Country,  who  was  eter- 
nally at  the  piano. 

Now  Mr.  Rochfort  is  practised  in  the 
arts  of  cookery,  washing,  mending  and 
the  like,  having  lived  in  a  bachelor 
fashion  so  much ;  and  on  the  particular 
morning  of  which  I  write  he  had  "set" 
a  beautiful  pan  of  bread-dough  to  rise, 
and  departed  to  the  bam.  The  musi- 
cian, having  finished  breakfast,  sat 
down  to  the  piano  and  began  his 
detested  scales.  Miss  Rochfort's 
patience  bent  and  broke.  Quietly  dis- 
appearing into  the  kitchen,  she  snatch- 
ed up  her  brother's  pan  of  rising  dough, 
and  brought  it  down  upon — and  over — 
the  head  of  the  devoted  thumper  of 
ivories.  At  that  juncture,  Mr.  Roch- 
fort appeared  on  the  scene,  and  the 
meeting  of  Greek  with  Greek  was  noth- 
ing to  the  meeting  of  Irish  with  Irish. 
The  musician  disentangled  himself 
from  the  dough,  and  fled;  Miss  Roch- 
fort braved  her  brother''s  wrath  for  a 
little,  but  even  she  had  to  make  an 
inglorious  retreat;  and  Mr.  Rochfort, 
still  rumbling  thunderously,  set  about 
recreating  the  family's  supply  of  bread. 

Have  I  made  you  see  him  ?  He- 
does  not  live  here,  in  the  paved  and 
narrow  street  where  most  of  us  dwell;, 
nor  even  in  the  fenced  and  planted 
farms  roofed  with  open  sky.  Even 
though  circumstances  hedges  his  body 
at  times  within  four  walls,  his  spirit 
is  abroad,  journeying  in  far  places- 
where  shortly  his  feet  shall  follow. 
The  most  characteristic  thing  about 
him,  the  salient  thing  by  which  I  shall' 
always  remember  him,  is  the  word  that 
he  said  when  he  lay,  racked  with  pain, 
on  the  hospital  cot  in  Toronto,  and  in 
answer  to  my  question  of  what  was- 
wrong  with  him,  answered^  briefly,. 
"Civilization." 


In  the  Wake  of  the  Columns 


AT  CAROLINA,  IN  THE  TRANSVAAL. 
WAS  A  STORE  KEPT  BY  A  HANDSOME 
ANIMAL  CALLED  ARTHUR  LIOSKI— A 
POLISH  JEW.  AND  THERE  WAS  LILLI- 
AN. ALSO  THERE  WAS  AN  OFFICERS' 
CLUBHOUSE,  OF  WHICH  THE  OWNER 
WAS  A. GREEK  ADVENTURER  WHO 
KNEW  HOW  TO  DIE  FOR  AN  IDEAL. 
AND  THIS  IS  THE  STORY  OF  A  YOUNG 
OFFICER  OF  HAMPTON'S  SCOUTS 
WHO  TOOK  TOO  MUCH  WINE  AND 
a  SAW  A  PAIR  OF  BOOTS 

By  Edgar  Wallace 

Illustrated  by  Marjory  Mason  and  Paul  Anderson 


@ 


I  HAVE  an  intense  admiration  for 
George  Poropulos,  and  I  revere 
his  memory.  My  friends  say  that 
this  admiration  of  mine  is  evi- 
dence of  a  spirit  of  perversion  which 
they  profess  to  deplore. 

I  admire  him  for  his  nerve,  though, 
for  the  matter  of  that,  his  nerve  was 
no  greater  than  mine. 

Long  before  the  war  came,  when  tlie 
negotiations  between  Great  Britain 
and  the  Transvaal  Government  were 
in  the  diplomatic  stage,  I  drifted  to 
Carolina  from  the  Rand,  leaving  behind 
me  in  the  golden  city  much  of  ambition, 
hope,  and  all  the  money  I  had  brought 
with  me  from  Flngland.  I  came  to 
South  Africa  with  a  young  wife  and 
£370— within  a  few  shillings — because 
the  doctors  told  me  the  only  chance  I 
had  was  in  such  a  hot  dry  climate  as 
the  highlands  of  Africa  afforded.  For 
my  own  part,  there  was  a  greater 
attraction  in  the  possibility  of  turning 
those  few  hundreds  of  mine  into  many 
thousanrls,  for  Johannesburg  was  in 
the  delirium  of  a  boom  when  I  arrived. 
I  left  Johannesburg  nearly  penniless. 
I  could  not,  at  the  moment,  explain  the 
reason  of  my  failure,  for  the  boom  con- 
tinued, and  I  had  the  advantage  of  the 
expert  advice  of  Arthur  Lioski,  who 
was  staying  at  the  same  boarding 
house  as  myself. 

There  were  malicious  people  who 
warned  me  against  Lioski.  His  own 
compatriots,  sharp  men  of  business, 
told  me  to  'ware  Lioski,  but  I  ignored 
the  advice  because  I  was  very  confident 
in  my  own  judgment,  and  Lioski  was 
a  plausible,  handsome  man,  a  little 
flashy  in  appearance,  but  decidedly  a 
beautiful  animal. 

He  was  in  Johannesburg  on  a  holi- 
day, he  said.    He  had  stores  in  various 


parts  of  the  country  where 
he  sold  everything  from  broom- 
sticks to  farm  wagons,  and 
he  bore  the  evidence  of  his 
prosperity. 

He  took  us  to  the  theatre, 
or  rather  he  took  Lillian,  for 
I  was  too  seedy  to  go  out 
much.  I  did  not  grudge 
Lillian  the  pleasure.  Life  was 
very  dull  for  a  young  girl 
whose  husband  had  a  spot  on 
his  lung,  and  Lioski  was  so  kind 
and  gentlemanly,  so  far  as 
Lil  was  concerned,  that  the  only  feel- 
ing I  had  in  the  matter  was  one  of 
gratitude. 

fie  was  tall  and  dark,  broad- 
shouldered,  with  a  set  to  his  figure  and 
a  swing  of  carriage  that  excited  my 
admiration.  He  was  possessed  of 
enormous  physical  strength,  and  I 
have  seen  him  take  two  quarreling 
Kaffirs — men  of  no  ordinary  muscu- 
larity— and  knock  their  heads  to- 
gether. 

He  had  an  easy,  ready  laugh,  a  fund 
of  stories,  some  a  littlecoarse,  I  thought, 
and  a  florid  gallantry  which  must  have 
been  very  attractive  to  women,  and 
.certainly  Lil  always  brightened  up 
wonderfully  after  an  evening  spent 
with  him. 

His  knowledge  of  mines  and  mining 
propositions  was  bewildering.  I  left 
all  my  investments  in  his  hands,  and 
it  proves  something  of  my  trust  in  him, 
that  when,  day  by  day,  he  came  to  me 
for  money,  to  "carry  over"  stock — 
whatever  that  means— I  paid  without 
hesitation,  believing  that  the  stock  1 
was  interested  in  would  recover  suf- 
ficiently to  clear  my  losses,  and  pay  me 
a  handsome  profit.  Not  only  did  I 
lose  every   penny   I   possessed,  but   I 


SLEEPING  OR  WAKING,  FIGHTING  OR  RBSTING.  I  THOUGHT  OF 
LILLIAN  AND  WONDERED WONDERED 


found  myself  in  debt  to  him  to  the 
extent  of  a  hundred  pounds. 

Poor  Lil  1  I  broke  the  news  to  her  of 
my  ruin,  and  she  took  it  badly; 
reproached,  stormed,  and  wept  in 
turn,  but  quieted  down  when  I  told  her 
that,  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart, 
Lioski  had  offered  me  a  berth  at  his 
Carolina  store.  I  was  to  get  £16  a 
month,  half  of  which  was  to  be  paid  in 
stores  at  wholesale  prices  and  the  other 
half  in  cash.  I  was  to  live  rent  free  in 
a  little  house  near  the  store. 

I  was  delighted  with  the  offer.  Four 
pounds  a  week  seemed  a  lot  of  money 
to  a  bank  clerk  who  had  never  earned 
more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  a 
year.  It  was  an  immediate  rise,  though 
I  foresaw  that  the  conditions  of  life 
would  be  much  harder  than  the  life  to 
which  I  had  been  accustomed  in 
England. 

We  traveled  down  the  Delagoa  line 
to  Middleburg,  and  found  a  Cape  cart 
waiting  to  carry  us  across  the  twenty 
miles  of  rolling  veldt  that  separated  the 
line. from  the  little  town. 

The  first  six  months  in  Carolina 
were  the  happiest  I  have  ever  spent. 
The  work  in  the  store  was  not  particu- 
larly arduous.    I  found  that  it  had  the 


igo 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


reputation  of  being  one  of  the  best 
equipped  stores  in  the  Eastern  Trans- 
vaal, and  certainly  we  did  a  huge  busi- 
ness for  so  small  a  place.  It  was  not 
on  the  town  we  depended  but  upon  the 
surrounding  country. 

Lioski  did  not  come  back  with  us, 
but  after  we  had  been  installed  for  a 
week  he  turned  up  and  took  his  resi- 
dence in  the  store. 

All  went  well  for  six  months.  He 
taught  Lil  to  ride  and  drive,  and  every 
morning  they  went  cantering  over  the 
veldt  together.  He  treated  me  more 
like  a  brother  than  an  employee,  and  I 
found  myself  hotly  resenting  the  un- 
charitable things  that  were  said  about 
him,  for  Carolina,  like  other  small 
African  towns,  was  a  hotbed  of  scandal 
and  gossip. 

Lil  was  happy  for  that  six  months, 
and  then  I  began  to  detect  a  change  in 
her  attitude  toward  me.  She  was 
snappy,  easily  offended,  insisted  upon 
having  her  own  room — to  which  I 
agreed,  for,  although  my  chest  was 
better,  I  still  had  an  annoying  cough 
at  night  which  must  have  been  a  trial 
to  anybody  who  slept  within  my 
hearing. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  I  met 
Poropulos. 

He  came  into  the  store  one  hot  day 
in  January,  a  little  man  of  forty-five 
or  thereabouts.  He  was  unusually 
pale,  and  had  a  straggling,  weedy 
beard.  His  hair  was  long,  his  clothes 
were  old  and  stained,  and  so  much  of 
his  shirt  as  was  revealed  at  his  throat 
was  sadly  in  need  of  a  washwoman's 
attention. 

Yet  he  was  cheerful  and  debonair;— 
it  seems  a  ridiculous  word  to  apply  to 
a  pale  little  man  of  forty-five — and 
singularly  flippant. 

His  first  greeting  was  familiar. 

He  stalked  into  the  store,  looked 
around  critically,  nodded  to  me  and 
smiled.  Then  he  brought  his  sjambok 
down  on  the  counter  with  a  smack. 

"Where's  Shylock  ?"  he  asked, 
easily.  ' 

I  am  afraid  that  I  was  irritated. 

"Do  you  mean  Mr.  Lioski  ?"  I 
demanded,  coldly. 

"Shylock,  I  said,"  he  repeated  with 
relish.  "Shylockstein,  the  Lothario  of 
Carolina." 

He  smacked  the  counter  again, 
smiling  all  the  time. 

I  was  saved  the  trouble  of  replying, 
for  at  that  moment  Lioski  entered.  He 
stopped  dead  and  frowned  when  he  saw 
the  Greek. 

"What  do  you  want,  you  little 
beast  ?"  he  asked,  harshly. 

For  answer,  the  man  leant  up 
against  the  counter,  ran  his  fingers 
through  his  straggling  beard,  and 
cocked  his  head  impertinently  upward. 

"I  want  justice,"  he  said,  unctuously 
—"the   restoration   of   money   stolen. 


I  want  to  send  a  wreath  to  your  funeral ; 
I  want  to  write  your  biography " 

"Clear  out,"  shouted  Lioski.  His 
face  was  purple  with  anger,  and  he 
brought  his  huge  fist  down  upon  the 
counter  with  a  crash  that  shook  the 
wooden  building. 

He  might  have  been  uttering  the 
most  pleasant  of  compliments,  for  all 
the  notice  the  Greek  took. 

Crash  !  went  Lioski's  fist  on  the 
counter. 

Smash  !  came  Poropulos's  sjambok, 
and  there  was  something  mocking  and 
derisive  in  his  action  that  made  Lioski 
mad. 

With  one  spring  he  was  over  the 
counter,  a  stride,  and  he  had  his  hand 
on  the  Greek's  collar — and  then  he 
stepped  back  quickly  with  every  drop 
of  blood  gone  from  his  face,  for  the 
Greek's  knife  had  flashed  under  his 
eyes. 

It  was  out  so  quick  that  I  did  not  see 
him  draw  it.  I  thought  Lioski  was 
stabbed,  but  it  was  tear  that  made  him 
white. 

The  Greek  rested  the  point  of  the 
knife  on  the  counter  and  twiddled  it 
round  absentmindedly,  laying  his 
palm  on  the  hilt  and  spinning  it  with 
great  rapidity. 

"Nearly  did  it  that  time,  my  friend," 
he  said,  with  a  note  of  regret,  "nearly 
did  it  that  time — I  shall  be  hanged  for 
you  yet." 

Lioski  was  white  and  shaking. 

"Come  in  here,"  he  said  in  a  low 
voice,  and  the  little  Greek  followed  him 
to  the  back  parlor. 

They  were  together  for  about  an 
hour;  sometimes  I  could  hear  Mr. 
Lioski's  voice  raised  angrily,  sometimes 
Poropulos's  little  laugh.  When  they 
came  out  again  the  Greek  was  smiling 
still,  and  smoking  one  of  my  employer's 
cigars. 

"My  last  word  to  you,"  said  Lioski, 
huskily,  "is  this — keep  your  mouth 
closed  and  keep  away  from  me." 

"And  my  last  word  to  you,"  said 
Poropulos,  jauntily  puffing  at  the  cigar, 
"is  this — turn  honest,  and  enjoy  a 
novel  sensation." 

He  stepped  forth  from  the  store  with 
the  air  of  a  man  who  had  gained  a 
moral  victory. 

I  never  discovered  what  hold  the 
Greek  had  pver  my  master.  I  gathered 
that  at  some  time  or  another,  Poropulos 
had  lost  money,  and  that  he  regarded 
Lioski  as  responsible,  never  ceasing  to 
worry  him  for  its  return. 

In  some  mysterious  way  Poropulos 
and  I  became  friends.  He  was  an 
adventurer  of  a  type.  He  bought  and 
sold  indifferent  mining  propositions, 
took  up  contracts,  and  I  believe,  was 
not  above  engaging  in  the  Illicit  Gold 
Buying  business. 

His  attitude  to  Lillian  was  one  of 
complete    adoration.      When    he    was 


with  her  his  eyes  never  left  her  face. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  my  great 
sorrow  came  to  me.  Lioski  went  away 
to  Durban — to  buy  stock,  he  said — 
and  a  few  days  afterwards  Lillian,  who 
had  become  more  and  more  exigent, 
demanded  that  she  should  be  allowed 
to  go  down  to  Cape  Town  for  a  change. 

I  shall  remember  that  scene. 

I  was  at  breakfast  in  the  store  when 
she  came  in. 

She  was  white,  I  thought,  but  her 
pallor  suited  her,  with  her  beautiful 
black  hair  and  great  dark  eyes. 

She  came  to  the  point  without  any 
preliminary. 

"I  want  to  go  away,"  she  said. 

I  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"Go  away,  dear  ?    Where  ?" 

She  was  nervous.  I  could  see  that 
from  the  restless  movement  of  her 
hands. 

"I  want  to  go  to — to  Cape  Town — I 
know  a  girl  there — I'm  sick  of  this 
place — I  hate  it." 

She  stamped  her  foot,  and  I  thought 
that  she  was  going  to  break  into  a  fit 
of  weeping.  Her  lips  trembled,  and 
for  a  time  she  could  not  control  her 
voice. 

"I  am  going  to  be  ill  if  you  don't  let 
me  go,"  she  said  at  last.    "I  can  feel—" 

"But  the  money,  dear,"  I  said,  for  it 
was  distressing  to  me  that  I  could 
not  help  her  toward  the  holiday  she 
wanted. 

"I  can  find  the  money,"  she  said,  in 
an  unsteady  voice.  "I  have  got  a  few 
pounds  saved — the  allowance  you  gave 
me  for  mj'  clothes — I  didn't  spend  it 
all — let  me  go,  Charles — please,  please." 

I  drove  her  to  the  station,  and  took 
her  ticket  for  Pretoria. 

I  would  have  taken  her  to  the  capital 
but  I  had  the  store  to  attend  to. 

"By  the  way,  what  will  your  address 
be  ?"  I  asked  just  as  the  train  was 
moving  off. 

She  was  leaning  over  the  gate  of  the 
car  platform,  looking  at  me  strangely. 

"I  will  wire  it — I  have  it  in  my  bag. " 

With  an  aching  heart  I  watched  the 
tail  of  the  train  swing  round  the  curve. 

There  was  something  wrong,  what  it 
was  I  could  not  understand.  Perhaps 
I  was  a  fool.    I  think  I  was. 

Back  to  Carolina  I  went,  heavy  and 
sad  and  miserable. 

I  think  I  have  said  that  I  had  made 
friends  with  Poropulos.  Perhaps  it 
would  be  more  truthful  to  say  that  he 
made  friends  with  me,  for  he  had  to 
break  down  my  feeling  of  distrust  and 
disapproval.  Then  again,  I  was  not 
certain  how  Mr.  Lioski  would  regard 
such  a  friendship,  but,  to  my  surprise, 
he  took  very  little  notice  of  it,  or  for 
the  matter  of  that,  of  me. 

Poropulos  came  into  the  store  the 
night  my  wife  left.  Business  was 
slack;  there  was  war  in  the  air,  rumors 
of  ultimatums  had  been  persistent,  and 


the   Dutch  farmers  had   avoided   the 
store. 

We  talked  for  some  time  about  the 
political  question,  then  the  Greek 
wandered  off  into  reminiscences. 

He  told  me  he  had  been  in  the  Trans- 
vaal for  eighteen  years. 

"I  killed  a  man  in  Athens,"  he  said, 
simply,  "  and  I  had  to  fly." 

"By  accident,  of  course,"  I  said. 
He  smiled. 

"Oh,  no,  I  just  ( 
killed  him,"  he  said 
carelessly.  "He  vexed  ; 
me  about  something 
— I  forget  what  it 
was  now — and  I  stuck 
a  knife  into  him." 

I  was  horrified. 

"I     have    killed       , 
several    people,"    he      j 
went  on,  with  a  se- 
renity which    I   can- 
not describe.    "I  kill- 
ed  a   man   at    Beira 
over    a    question    of 
money.      He   was   a 
half-caste    Portu- 
guese,   so    really   he 
doesn't  count.    Also  I 
killed  another  man  at 
Mandeges  who  owed 
me     three      months' 
salary    and    swore    I       | 
had    received    it.      I       \ 
was  very  quick  temp- 
ered then." 

He  shook  his  head 
gently,  and  seemed 
to  be  regretting  that 
increasing  age  had 
brought  him  a  more 
pacific  nature. 

"Ten  years  ago," 
he  continued,  "  I 
should  have  killed 
Lioski — Oh,  I  forgot, 
you  like  him,  don't 
you  ?" 

"He  has  been  very 
good  to  me,"  I  re- 
plied, and  he  looked 
ai  me  curiously. 

"Yes — I  suppose 
he  has,"  he    mused. 

(His  English,  by 
the  way,  was  perfect, 
and  there  was  not  the 
slightest  trace  of  any  .    p^y^ 

foreign  accent.)  i 

He  was  silent  for  a 
little  while. 

"Your  wife  has 
gone  to ?" 

"Cape  Town,"  I  finished  the  sentence 
for  him.     He  ntxlded. 

"I  shall  certainly  l)e  hanged  for 
killing  your  generous  employer,"  he 
said  aprop<js  of  nothing. 

We  had  many  other  conversations  of 
a  similar  character.  He  exercised  a 
sort  of  fascination  for  me.    Sometimes 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

I  could  not  believe  that  he  was  speak- 
ing seriously,  when  he  spoke  without 
a  tremor  and  with  little  sign  of  embar- 
rassment, of  the  dreadful  deeds  he  had 
committed.  The  only  time  he  ever 
showed  any  sign  of  emotion  was  when 
he  spoke  of  my  wife,  and  I  was  touched 
by  the  devotion  of  this  little  man  for 
my  dear  girl. 

In  the  slack  part  of  the  evening  he 


AMDERSOW 


HE  WA>  tALI.  A.NJ^  UAKK,  AND  Fo&^K:»T*f.l/  A  fu.^ii  i.I-   i,Al.i,A.>*  IK  V   iilAi  MAlJfa,  HiM  AIlttACllVtt 
TO  WOMEN.      CERTAINLY  LIL  ALWAYS  BSIGHTENED  UP  WHEN  HE  CAME  IN 


would  perch  himself  on  the  counter  and 
tell  story  after  story,  none  of  which 
were  particularly  creditable  to  himself 
— but  his  self-possession  vanished 
when  he  spoke  of  her.  Possibly  his 
liking  for  Lillian  was  the  secret  of  our 
friendshii);  possibly  it  was  the  absolute 
commonplace  in  me  that  proved 
so  attractive    to    him.      Certainly    it 


191 

grew  with  extraordinary  rapidity. 
Though,  he  confided  in  me  to  a 
remarkable  degree,  though  he  treated 
me  almost  as  a  confessor,  for  some 
reason  or  other,  I  could  never  induce 
him  to  speak  of  Lioski.  I  gathered 
that  he  had  one  especial  grievance 
against  my  employer,  and  that  it  was 
of  years'  standing,  but  the  implacable 
hatred  which  animated  him  was,  as  he 
said,  "a  matter  of 
principle,"  from 
which  vague  state- 
ment I  gathered  that 
he  was  constitution- 
ally antagonistic  to 
such  men  as  Lioski. 
A  week  passed,  and 
I  began  to  worry  for 
I  had  not  heard  from 
Lil.  I  had  had  a  letter 
from  Lioski,  telling 
me  that  in  view  of 
the  unsettled  condi- 
tion of  the  country  he 
was  extending  his 
stay  in  Durban  for 
a  fortnight.  The  let- 
ter gave  me  the  full- 
est instructions  as  to 
what  I  was  to  do  in 
case  war  broke  out, 
but,  unfortunately,  I 
had  no  opix)rtunity 
of  putting  them  into 
practise. 

The  very  day  I  re- 
ceived the  letter,  a 
Boer  commando  rode 
into  Carolina,  and  at 
the  head  of  it  rode 
the  Landrost  Peter 
du  Huis,  a  pleasant 
man  whom  I  knew 
slightly.  He  came 
straight  to  the  store, 
dismounted,  and  en- 
tered. 

"Good  morning, 
Mr.  Grey,"  he  said. 
"I  am  afraid  that  1 
have  come  on  un- 
pleasant business." 

"What  is  that  ?"  I 
asked. 

"I  have  come  to 
commandeer  your 
stock  in  the  name  of 
the  Republic, "he said, 
"and  to  give  you  the 
tip  to  clear  out." 

It  does  not  sound 
possible,  but  it  is 
nevertheless  a  fact  that  in  two  hours 
I  had  left  Carolina,  leaving  Lioski 's 
store  in  the  hands  of  the  Boers,  and 
bringing  with  me  receipts  signed  by 
the  Landrost  for  the  goods  he  had 
commandeered.  In  four  hours  I  was 
in  a  cattle  truck  with  a  dozen  other 
refugees  on  my  way  to  Pretoria — for 
I  had  elected  to  go  to  Durban  to  inform 


192 

Lioski  at  first  hand  of  what  had  hap- 
pened. 

Of  the  journey  down  to  the  coast  it 
is  not  necessary  to  speak.  We  were 
sixty  hours  en  route;  we  were  without 
food,  and  had  Httle  to  drink.  At 
Ladysmith  I  managed  to  get  a  loaf  of 
bread  and  some  milk;  at  Maritzburg  I 
got  my  first  decent  meal.  But  I 
arrived  in  Durban,  tired,  dispirited,  and 
hungry. 

Lioski  was  staying  at  the  Royal, 
and  as  soon  as  I  got  to  the  station  I 
hailed  a  ricksha  and  ordered  the  boy 
to  take  me  there. 

There  had  been  no  chance  of  tele- 
graphing. The  wires  were  blocked  with 
government  messages.  We  had  passed 
laden  troop  trains  moving  up  to  the 
frontier,  and  had  cheered  the  quiet  men 
in  khaki  who  were  going,  all  of  them, 
to  years  of  hardship  and  privation, 
many  of  them  to  death. 

The  vestibule  of  the  Royal  was 
crowded,  but  I  made  my  way  to  the 
office. 

"Lioski  ?"  said  the  clerk.  "Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Lioski,  No.  84 — you'll  find  your 
way  to  their  sitting  room.  It's  on  the 
second  floor." 

I  went  slowly  up  the  stairs,  realiz- 
ing in  a  flash  the  calamity . 

I  did  not  blame  Lil;  it  was  a  hard 
life  to  which  I  had  brought  her.  I  had 
been  selfish,  as  every  sick  man  is  sel- 
fish, inconsiderate. 

They  stood  speechless,  as  I  opened 
the  door  and  entered.  I  closed  the  door 
behind  me. 

Still  they  stood,  Lil  as  pale  as  death, 
with  terror  and  shame  in  her  eyes, 
Lioski  in  a  black  rage. 

"Well  ?" 

It  was  he  who  broke  the  silence. 

He  was  defiant,  shameless,  and  as  I 
went  on  to  talk  about  what  had  hap- 
pened at  the  store,  making  no  reference 
to  what  I  had  seen,  his  lips  curled  in  a 
contemptuous  smile. 

But  Lil,  woman-like,  rushed  in  with 
explanations.  .  She  had  meant  to 
go  to  Cape  Town.  .  .the  train 
service  had  been  bad.  .  .she  had 
decided  to  go  to  Durban  .  .  .Mr. 
Lioski  had  been  kind  enough  to  book 
her  a  room   . 

I  let  her  go  on.  When  she  had 
finished  I  handed  my  receipts  to 
Lioski. 

"That  ends  our  acquaintance,  I 
think,"  said  I. 

"As  you  like,"  he  replied  with  a  shrug. 

I  turned  to  Lillian. 

"Come,  my  dear,"  I  said,  but  she 
made  no  move,  and  I  saw  Lioski  smile 
again. 

I  lost  all  control  over  myself  and 
leapt  at  him,  but  his  big  fist  caught  me 
before  I  could  reach  him,  and  I  went 
down,  half  stunned.  I  was  no  match 
for  him.  I  knew  that,  and  if  the  blow 
did  nothing  else  it  sobered  me. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

I  picked  myself  up.  I  was  sick  with 
misery  and  hate. 

"Come,  Lil,"  I  said  again. 

She  was  looking  at  me,  and  I  thought 
I  saw  a  look  of  disgust  in  her  face.  I 
did  not  realize  that  I  was  bleeding,  and 
that  I  must  have  been  a  most  unpleas- 
ant figure.  I  only  knew  that  she 
loathed  me  at  that  moment,  and  I 
turned  on  my  heel  and  left  them,  my 
own  wife  and  the  big  man  who  had 
broken  me .... 

One  forgets  things  in  war  time.  I 
joined  the  Imperial  Light  Horse  and 
went  to  the  front. 

The  doctor  passed  me  as  sound,  so  I 
suppose  that  all  that  is  claimed  for 
the  climate  of  Africa  is  true. 

We  went  into  Ladysmith,  and  I 
survived  the  siege.  I  was  promoted 
for  bringing  an  officer  out  of  action 
under  fire.  I  earnt  a  reputation  for 
daring,  which  I  did  not  deserve,  be- 
cause all  the  time  I  was  courting  swift 
death,  and  was  taking  risks  to  that 
end. 

But  courted  death  is  shy.  It 
struck  down  the  man  at  my  left  and  at 
my  right.  It  took  my  comrades  who 
slept  on  either  side  of  me  in  my  tent, 
but  me  it  left. 

Once,  ten  men  went  out  by  night  to 
make  a  reconnaissance.  We  fell  into 
a  trap.  Nine  of  the  ten  were  killed, 
the  tenth  man  came  back  without  a 
scratch,  and  I  was  that  man. 

Before  Buller's  force  had  pushed  a 
way  through  the  stubborn  lines  to  our 
relief,  I  had  received  my  commission. 
More  wonderful  to  me,  I  found  myself 
a  perfectly  healthy  man,  as  hard  as 
nails,  as  callous  as  the  most  experienced 
soldier.  Only,  somewhere  down  in  my 
heart,  a  little  worm  gnawed  all  the 
time;  sleeping  or  waking,  fighting  or 
resting,  I  thought  of  Lillian,  and  won- 
dered, wondered,  wondered. 

Then  Ladysmith  was  relieved.  We 
marched  on  toward  Pretoria.  I  was 
transferred  to  Hampton's  Horse  with 
the  rank  of  major,  and  for  eighteen 
months  I  moved  up  and  down  the 
Eastern  Transvaal  chasing  a  will  o' 
the  wisp  of  a  commandant,  whose 
attentions  were  embarrassing  the 
blockhouse  lines. 

Then  one  day  I  came  upon  Por- 
opulos. 

We  were  encamped  outside  Stander- 
ton  when  he  rode  in  on  a  sorry  looking 
Burnto  pony*. 

He  had  been  in  the  country  during 
the  war,  he  said,  buying  and  selling 
horses.  He  did  not  mention  Lioski's 
name  to  me,  and  so  studiously  did  he 
avoid  referring  to  the  man  that  I  saw 
at  once  that  he  knew. 

It  was  brought  home  to  me  by  his 
manner  that  he  had  a  liking  for  me 
that  I  had  never  guessed.  In  what  way 
I  had  earned  his  regard  I  cannot  say, 
but  it  was  evident  he  entertained  a 


real  aflfection  for  the  ex-store  man  o 
Carolina. 

We  parted  after  an  hour's  chat — he 
was  going  back  to  Carolina.  He  had  a 
scheme  for  opening  an  officers'  club 
in  that  town,  where  there  was  always 
a  large  garrison,  and  to  which  the 
wandering  columns  came  from  time  to 
time  to  be  re-equipped. 

As  for  me,  I  continued  the  weary 
chase  of  the  flying  commando.  Trek, 
trek,  trek,  in  fierce  heat,  in  torrential 
downpour,  over  smooth  veldt  and 
broken  hills,  skirmishing,  sniping,  and 
now  and  then  a  short  and  sharp 
engagement  with  half  a  dozen  casualties 
on  either  side. 

Four  months  passed,  and  the  column 
was  ordered  into  Carolina  for  a  refit. 
I  went  without  qualms,  though  I 
knew  she  was  there,  and  Lioski  was 
there. 

We  got  into  Carolina  in  a  thunder- 
storm, and  the  men  were  glad  to  reach 
a  place  that  bore  some  semblance  (jf 
civilization.  My  brother  officers,  after 
our  long  and  profitless  trek  were  over- 
joyed at  the  prospect  of  eating  a  decent 
dinner  —  for  Poropulos's  club  was 
already  famous  amongst  the  columns. 

My  horse  picked  up  a  stone  and  went 
dead  lame,  so  I  stayed  behind  to  doctor 
him,  and  rode  into  Carolina  two  hours 
after  the  rest  of  the  column  had  arrived. 

It  was  raining  heavily  as  I  came  over 
a  fold  of  the  hill  that  showed  the  strag- 
gling township. 

There  was  no  human  being  in  sight 
save  a  woman  who  stood  by  the  road- 
side, waiting,  and  I  knew  instinctively, 
long  before  I  reached  her,  that  it  was 
Lillian. 

I  cantered  toward  her.  Her  face 
was  turned  in  my  direction,  and  she 
stood  motionless  as  I  drew  rein  and 
swung  myself  to  the  ground. 

She  was  changed,  not  as  I  expected, 
for  sorrow  and  suffering  had  ethereal- 
ized  her.  Her  big  eyes  burnt  in  a  face 
that  was  paler  than  ever,  her  lips,  once 
so  red  and  full,  were  almost  white. 

"I  have  been  waiting  for  you,"  she 
said. 

"Have  you,  dear  ?    You  are  wet." 

She  shook  her  head  impatiently  as 
I  slipped  off  my  mackintosh  and  put  it 
about  her. 

"He  has  turned  me  out,"  she  said, 
simply. 

She  did  not  cry.  I  think  she  had  not 
recovered  from  the  shock.  Something 
stirred  under  the  thin  cloak  she  was 
wearing,  and  a  feeble  cry  was  muffled 
by  the  wrapping. 

"I  have  got  a  little  girl,"  she  said, 
"but  she  is  dying." 

Then  she  began  to  cry  silently,  the 
tears  running  down  her  wet  face  in  two 
streams . 

I  took  her  into  Carolina,  and  found 
a  Dutch  woman  who  put  her  and  the 
Continued  on  page  211. 


Canada  monthly 


193 


A  Living  Link 

By  J.  H.  Reed 

Illustrated  with  Photograph 

Lord  !  who  would  live  turmoiled  in  the  Court 
And  may  enjoy  such  quiet  walks  as  these? 

— Shakespeare. 

DEAUTIFUL  golden  sun-spangled 
days  have  followed  the  wet  weeks 
that  kept  us  indoors,  with  their  rain- 
swept  woods   and   sodden    fields. 

The  long  rainy' time  has  brought 
many  compensations.  The  pastures 
are  thick  with  grass  of  a  bright  emerald 
green.  The  woods  are  unscorched  by  a 
hot  summer  sun,  and  the  foliage  has 
the  bright  day  dress  of  early  summer 
days.  The  brooks  are  singing  a  louder 
song,  they  are  full  from  overburdened 
springs;  adown  the  sides  the  waters 
rush,  deeply  tinged  with  colour  from 
the  green  mosses  clinging  to  the  red 
and  brown  rocks  below,  and  the  rills 
"lace  the  cascades  with  tags  of  twisted 
silver."  Never  were  Quantock  crests 
and  sides  covered  with  brighter  patches 
of  purple,  or  the  banks  of  streams  with 
gayer  flowers. 

Lovely  pictures  meet  the  traveller  at 
every  turn.  A  vision  of  beauty  sped 
pastas  thetrain  emerged  from  a  cutting. 
A  long,  narrow  patch  some  twenty 
yards  wide,  backed  by  a  green  larch 
wood,  was  brilliant  with  thousands  of 
devil 's-bit  scabious,  all  glorious  with 
their  dark  purple  corollas,  the  edges 
gay  with  golden  ragwort. 

On  the  crest  of  a  hill  overlooking  a 
delightful  landscape,  where,  amid 
swelling  hills  and  a  finely-wooded  park, 
stood  the  house  of  Sir  Walter  Trevelyan 
hard  by  the  fine  church  of  Nettlecombe, 
a  great  patch  of  the  handsome  rose-bay 
willow  herb  hung  out  its  glorious 
flowers.  The  sloping  bank  of  a  sunken 
lane  was  covered  with  grey  lichen, 
framed  in  silver  by  its  upcurled  edges, 
and  set  amid  green  moss  and  the  bril- 
liant foliage  of  the  wild  geranium,  a  fair 
and  beautiful  picture;  and  a  thatched 
farmhouse,  with  a  garden  still  bright 
with  roses,  had  its  walls  all  scarlet  with 
a  creeper,  whost;  long  fingers  had 
Stretched  up  and  over  the  brown  thatch 
—those  lovely  fingers  were  of  brilliant 
golden  and  crimson  hues  in  the  bright 
sun. 

Our  walk  was  from  Crowcombe 
Station,  through  a  grove  of  oak  trees, 
thence  by  a  deep  lane  and  past  a  farm. 
The  farmer  was  thrashing  his  newly- 
gathered  barley;  the  sample  was  really 
much  better  and  brighter  than  could 
have  been  expected  after  the  stormy 
(lays  before  the  ingathering.  On  through 
a  wtK)d,  and  we  are  <m  the  summit  of 
the  Quantotks.  with  a  fine  view  of 
Aisholt  and  ("ocker  Coomlies.  Our 
objective  is  Aisholt  village;  so  we 
walk  across  the  huge  back  between  two 
deep  ravines.    The  narrow  path  at  first 


Appearance 
is 

Imporiant ! 


Between  the  unshaven 
cheek  of  the  sloven  and  the 
unctuous  jowl  of  the  much- 
barbered  fop  comes  the 
clean  fresh  face  of  the  man 
who  shaves  himself  with   a 


Safety  Ra2^or 

Shaving  with  the  GILLETTE  is  so  quick  and  easy  that  there 
is  no  temptation  to  neglect  it — and  so  smooth  and  comfortable  that 
an  after  dressing  of  soothing  lotions  is  not  necessary. 

The  GILLETTE  shave  is  the  choice  of  clean-cut,  self-reliant  men  the 
world  over.      The  GILLETTE  face  is  a  winner. 

,    Standard    Gillette  Sets   coal    $5  00  —  Handy    Pocket    Editions    $5.00    to    $6.00— 
Luxurious  Combination  Sets  from  $6  50  up.   At  Drug,  Jewelry  and  Hardware  Stores. 

Gillette  Safety  Razor  Co.   of   Canada,  Ltd. 

OFFICE  AND  FACTORY: 
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194 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


11 


Puddings 


Fit     for     a     King 

Good  cooks  and  careful  managers  of  ' 
household  economy  know  that  starch 
is  one  of  the  most  valuable  foods 
and  absolutely  indispensable  in  the 
well-run  kitchen.  Benson's  Prepared 
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can  be  procured.  All  good  grocers 
sell  it,  and  a  most  attractive  recipe 
book  of  puddings,  sauces,  ice  cream, 
etc. .will  be  sent  you  on  request.  Write 

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Makers  of  the  famous  Edwardsburg  Brand  of  Corn  Syrup 


\m\vr  r> 

PREPARED) 

OU1U3  \j 


— really  refreshes.    Its  generous  flavour 
and    rare   fragrance    are   delicious. 

ASJiT    YOUR    GROCER 


RiCHD. 
DiCKESON 

»fe  Co.,  Ltd. 

I.OHDON,  EhO. 


'M^^SS?^ 


^  Agents: — 

W.Lloyd  Loch  &  Co. 
Winnipeg. 


is  through  purple  heather,  and  then  is 
lost  inja  maze  of  bracken,  often  six  or 
seven  feet  high;  this  wet  summer  has 
encouraged  the  giant  growth.  Emerg- 
ing into  the  coombe  the  way  is  by  a 
rift,  where  the  rill  wanders  amid  beech 
trees,  and  thence  by  a  fir  plantation, 
whose  nodding  plumes  wave  in  the 
northern  breeze. 

The  coombe  has  a  charm  all  its  own. 
Here  is  sweet  solitude.  For  miles  the 
traveller  has  been  all  alone.  In  these 
depths  all  is  still  save  for  the  twittering 
of  the  birds  and  the  new  sweet  song  of 
our  friend  the  robin,  the  whirr  of  a 
startled  pheasant,  and  ever  the  pleas- 
ant murmuring  of  the  brook.  There  is 
variety,  too.  A  grassy  glade  with  fine 
ash  trees,  many  of  their  grey  and  stately 
columns  richly  golden  with  clinging 
lichen,  now  and  again  a  noble  oak  tree, 
then  the  path  closes,  and  we  are  walk- 
ing by  the  water-loving  alders,  and 
always  with  the  song  of  the  brook  for 
company.  By.  a  water  lane,  fragrant 
with  water  mint,  we  enter  the  little 
village. 

The  few  cottages  are  thatched,  quaint 
and  old,  their  gardens  bright  with  old- 
world  flowers,  and  orchards  laden  with 
fruit.  The  brook  runs  by  the  lane-side ; 
on  its  banks  the  lady-fern,  with  its 
delicate  fronds,  grows  luxuriantly. 
We  ask  for  the  home  of  the  lady  we  are 
seeking,  and  we  receive  this  singular 
answer,  "Not  this  way."  We  ask  again. 
"Not  this  way  at  ail."  When  we  ex- 
plain we  have  come  down  the  coombe 
we  are  successful,  and  reach  the  pic- 
turesque home  of  Miss  Symons,  who  is 
active  in  philanthropic  work,  and  our 
guide  from  this  really  charming  village, 
Aisholt,  to  Over  Stowey,  to  introduce 
the  interesting  lady  we  have  come  to 
see.  Miss  Ward — the  living  link  between 
this  generation  and  Tom  Poole,  the 
friend  of  Coleridge,  Wordsworth, 
Southey,  Sir  Humphry  Davy,  and  a 
host  of  celebrated  men  of  a  bygone 
generation. 

It  was  only  a  mile  or  more  to  Marsh 
Mills,  where  lives  Miss  Ward,  in  the 
home  of  her  father,  the  Mr.  Ward  who 
was  a  partner  with  the  learned  tanner 
of  Nether  Stowey.  The  road  was  most 
interesting,  with  many  a  picture  on  the 
way.  On  the  banks  of  a  little  rill  run- 
ning through  a  meadow  was  a  grand 
show  of  mimulus — money  musk,  as 
it  is  popularly  called — for  twenty  or 
thirty  yards,  on  both  banks,  were  hun- 
dreds of  the  brilliant  flowers,  their  open 
yellow  throats  dotted  with  red  and 
with  great  splashes  of  red  at  the  mouths 
of  the  tubes.  Such  a  gay  show  is  not 
often  seen. 

Miss.  Ward  is  still  an  alert,  active 
lady  in  spite  of  her  eighty-seven  years, 
keen,  quick  and  observant,  with  all  her 
faculties  in  full  vigour. 

It  was  pleasant  to  sit  with  her  and 
listen  to  her  stories  of  the  days  before 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


195 


Victoria  was  our  Queen.  Life  at  Marsh 
Mills,  the  quaint,  delightful  old  horne, 
must  have  run  smoothly,  and  the  invig- 
orating air  of  the  Quantocks — where 
she  loves  to  roam — has  tended  to 
strengthen  a  bright  and  interesting  life. 
The  house  is  full  of  objects  which  arrest 
the  attention.  There  is  a  portrait  of 
Tom  Poole,  who  looks  a  refined  English 
gentleman,  a  pencil  sketch  of  Miss 
Ward's  father,  a  picture  of  her  mother 
in  an  Early  Victorian  bonnet,  enclosing 
a  sweet  face;  one  of  her  grandmother,  a 
miniature  painted  by  Miss  Biffen.  On 
the  back  of  this  is  an  advertisement 
stating  that  the  artist  painted  the  min- 
iatures from  five  to  twenty-five  guineas 


OUR  WALK  LED  US  TIIKOUCH  A  DEEP  LANE 
AND    PAST    A    FARM 


"without  hands,"  and,  more  interest- 
ing than  all,  the  celebrated  portrait  of 
himself  which.  Miss  Ward  affirms, 
Coleridge  sent  her  father  from  Ger- 
many. 

Mr.  Ward  had  scholarly  tastes,  and  it 
had  been  arranged  that  he  should  go  to 
Oxford,  and  there  qualify  for  a  doctor, 
but  after  meeting  Tom  Poole  he  went 
home  and  declared,  "Let  me  be  any- 
thing in  the  world,  only  let  me  be  with 
Tom  Poole,  the  tanner  of  Nether 
Stowey,"  and  so  a  tanner  he  became, 
and  eventually  the  partner  of  the  man 
he  so  much  admired. 

It  was  delightful  to  ait  in  the  dining- 
room  of  the  home  of  the  Wards,  with  its 
old-time  furniture  and  quaint  portraits, 
the  very  room  where  Coleridge  and 
Southey,  coming  in  from  their  tour  in 
Wales,  first  received  the  news^of  the 
death  of  Robespierre.    We  have  often 


Ihiliiiililllllllllllllllllillilililllllliiliilllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllll^  Ilil Il„lilill: 


"The     Kitchenless    Home'' 

has  not  arrived  — 
neither  has  the  ice- 
less  refrigerator 
nor  the  fireless  fur- 
nace —  but  the 
cookless  kitchen, 
with  comfort  and 
contentment,  is  a  possibiHty  in  every  home 
where  the  housewife  knows  the  cuHnary 
uses  and  food  value  of 

Shredded  Wheat 

With  these  crisp  "little  loaves"  of  ready- 
cooked  cereal  in  the  home  you  are  ready 
for  the  unexpected  guest,  for  the  uncertain- 
ties of  domestic  service,  for  every  emer- 
gency of  household  management.  No 
worry  or  drudgery — we  do  the  cooking  for 
you  in  our  two-million-dollar,  sunlit  bakery. 

Being  ready-cooked  and  ready-to-serve  it  is  so  easy  to  prepare  in  a  few 
moments  a  delicious,  nourishing  meal  with  Shredded  Wheat  Biscuit  and 
fresh  raspberries  or  other  fruits.  Heat  one  or  more  biscuits  in  the  oven  to 
restore  crispness;  then  cover  with  berries  and  serve  with  sugar  and  cream. 


"It's  All  in  the  Shreds' 


The  Canadian  Sbredded  Wheat  Co.,  Ltd., 
Niagara  Falls,  Ont. 

Toronto  OfBce  :  49  WeUin(ton  Street,  East. 


mam 


heard  the  story  of  Southey,  who  laid 
his  head  down  upon  his  arms  and  cried, 
"I  had  rather  heard  of  the  death  of  my 
own  father,"  but  what  Coleridge  said 
is  not  80  well  known.  Miss  Ward's 
father  often  told  her  that  Coleridge 
exclaimed:  "Sir,  he  was  a  ministering 
angel,  sent  to  slay  thousands  that  he 
might  save  millions." 

Mr.  Ward  considered  Coleridge  a 
more  wonderful  talker  than  a  poet. 
He  would  begin  on  a  subject,  and,  how- 


ever difficult,  never  leave  it  until  every 
comer  of  it  was  as  clear  as  noon-day  to 
his  hearers.  In  this  connection  we 
recall  what  Lord  Egmont  said  to  De 
Quincy:  "Coleridge  talked  very  much 
like  an  angel." 

Miss  Ward  recalled  one  or  two  per- 
«mal  recollections  of  her  girlhood  days. 
She  remembers  Tom  Poole  as  a  visitor 
at  Marsh  Mills  when  she  was  about 
nine  years  of  age,  and  her  nurse  telling 
her  "to  walk  on  her  toes,  as  Mr.  Poole 


196 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


They  Call  It  the 

"Good-Night  Dish*' 

Every  night,  countless  happy  children  have  Puffed  Wheat  or  PuflFed 
Rice  in  milk  at  bedtime.  And  even  more  grown-ups,  when  the  evening 
is  over,  gather  around  this  dish. 

Try  it  and  find  out  why.  Here  are  whole  grains  puffed  to  eight  times 
normal  size.  Thin,  crisp,  toasted  bubbles — fragile  morsels  with  an 
almond  taste.  Imagine  how  inviting  are  these  dainty  wafers  floating  in 
bowls  of  milk. 

Prof.  Anderson's  Supper 

They  call  this  Prof.  Anderson's  supper,  for  you  owe  this  Puffed  Wheat 
and  Puffed  Rice  to  him.  By  his  process  alone  are  whole  grains  made  so 
easily  and  completely  digestible. 

A  hundred  million  steam  explosions  have  occurred  in  each  kernel. 
Every  food  granule  has  bean  blasted  to  pieces,  so  digestion  can  instantly 
act.     Puffed  Wheat  and  Puffed  Rice  do  not  tax  the  stomach. 


Puffed  Wheat,  10c 
Puffed  Rice,      15c 


Except  in 

Extreme 

West 


Ways  to  Enjoy  Them 


Try 


Do  more  than  serve  Puffed  Wheat  or  Puffed  Rice  for  breakfast, 
them  in  different  ways.     For  each  is  distinct  in  its  flavor. 

Serve  them  with  sugar  and  cream,  mix  them  with  your  berries,  use 
them  in  candy  making.  Scatter  the  grains  like  nijt  meats  over  a  dish 
of  ice  cream.  Eat  them  dry  like  peanuts,  or  douse  them  with  melted 
butter. 

These  are  all-day  foods.  When  the  children  are  hungry — -whatever 
the  hour— the  best  food  you  can  give  them  is  Puffed  Wheat  or  Puffed 
Rice. 


The  Quaker  Q^Xs  Ompany 

Sole  Makers 


did  not  like  noise."  A  more  delightful 
story  of  this  polished  and  learned  bach- 
elor was  thebringing  outof  the  monkeys 
to  amuse  his  young  visitors.  He  had 
hung  wires  from  their  cage  across  the 
garden,  over  which  they  scrambled  to 
pick  gooseberries  from  the  mouth  of 
their  master,  to  the  great  delight  of 
little  Miss  Ward  and  her  sisters.  They 
had  a  warm  nook  over  the  kitchen  stove 
in  the  winter.  This  untx;nding  of  the 
friend  of  poets  and  philosophers  to 
amuse  village  maidens  is  one  of  Miss 
Ward's  most  delightful  memories. 

After  our  talk  the  precious  letters 
sent  by  Coleridge  to  her  father  were 
produced.  In  those  days  the  grey 
goose  quill  was  used  for  writing,  and 
the  poet  had  sent  a  bundle  to  be  mended 
The  letters  are  the  acknowledgments. 
The  first  is  truly  laconic: 

Oct.  7'l799. 

My  dear  Ward, 
Thank  you ! 

S.  T.  Coleridge. 

This  was  followed  by  a  quaintly-folded 
epistle  in  the  shape  of  a  pentagon. 
Here  is  the  address : 

To  Mr.  Ward. 

This  pentagonal   letter  comes   pencill'd   as 
well  as  penned. 
The  letter: 

Most  Exquisite  Pennefactor, 

I  will  speak  dirt  and  daggers  of  the  wretch 
who  shall  deny  thee  to  be  the  most  heaven- 
inspired  munificent  Penmaker  that  these  latter 
times,  these  superficial,  weak  and  evirtuate 
ages  have  produced  to  redeem  themselves  from 
ignominy  !  And  may  he,  great  Calamist,  who 
shall  villipend  or  derogate  from  thy  pen  mak- 
ing merits,  do  penance,  and  sufifer  penitential 
penalty,  penned  up  in  some  penurious  peninsula 
of  penal  fire,  of  penetrant  fire,  pensive  and 
penduous,  pending  a  huge  slice  of  Eternity. 

Were  I  to  write  till  Pentecost,  filling  whole 
Pentateuchs,  my  grateful  expressions  would 
still  remain  merely  a  penumbra  of  my  debt  of 
gratitude. 

Thine,  S.  T.  Coleridge. 

On  the  back  of  the  letter  was  written: 
"Your  messenger  neither  came  or 
returns  penniless." 

The  fact  was  that  Ward  never  touched 
those  pens — he  was  busy,  and  his  clerk 
mended  them — but  later  in  the  day  he 
sent  off  a  second  batch  cut  by  himself, 
with  this  note : 

T.  Ward,  not  having  had  time  to  mend  the 
pens  before,  delegated  that  communication  to 
Rd.  Govett  (the  clerk  aforesaid)  but  fearing 
their  workmanship  may  not  prove  of  so  superior 
a  kind  as  his  own  he  now  begs  Mr.  Coleridge's 
acceptance  of  these  few  pens  which  are  his  own 
manufacture  and  which  he  hopes  will  suit  Mr. 
C . 

On  a  sheet  of  paper  Coleridge  wrote 
the  following  fable: 

The  Fox,  the  Goose  and  the  Swan,  a  new 
fable. 

The  Fox  observing  a  white  bird  on  the  lake 
thought  it  a  goose,  leapt  in  and  meant  to  have 
payed  his  respect,  but  met  such  a  rebuff,  and 
had  nearly  made  his  fate  similar  to  that  of  his 

namesake  the  celebrated  Guy .     However 

he  got  off  with  a  most  profound  respect  for  the 
supposed  Goose,  but  soon  received  a  message 
from  the  Goose  to  this  purport. 

Dear  Friend  !  I  have  sent  this  hopping  has 
ow  u  dun  mee  the  onnur  of  a  vissat  sorry  u 
dident  hap  to  have  meat  with  I.    That  dowdy 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


197 


lanky  necked   thing  that   u   saw  is^a  disunt 
relashon  of  I's,  and  I  suffers  r  to  swim  about  the 
Pond  when  I  is  not  at  hum  but  I  is  at  hum  now 
and  hop  for  the  onnur  of  ure  cumpany. 
Your  luving  Frind 

Guse. 
The  Fox  came,  and  you  guess  the  rest  !  The 
Fable  I  address  to  the  writer  of  the  above  not- 
able instance  of  Incapacity  self  detected. 

Further  experiments  with  the  un- 
fortunate quills  were  also  most  unsat- 
isfactory, for  Coleridge  sent  on  the 
following  day  this  stinging  note  to  Mr. 
Ward: 

Ward  !  I  recant !  I  recant !  Solemnly  recant 
praise,  puff,  and  panegyric  on  your  damned 
pens.  I  have  this  moment  read  the  note  wrap- 
ped round  your  last  present,  and  last  night  there- 
fore wrote  my  Elegy  on  the  assured  belief  that 
the  first  batch  were  yours,  and  before  I  had 
tried  the  second.  The  second  !  I'm  sick  on't. 
Such  execrable  Blurrers  of  innocent  white  paper 
Villains  with  uneven  lags.  Hexameter  and 
F^cntameter  Pens.  Pens.  Elegy.  No,  no,  no, 
I-legies  written  with  Elegiac  pens.  Elegies  on 
my  poor  thoughts  doing  penance  in  white 
sheets,  filthily  illegible. 

My  rage  prevents  me  from  writing  sense. 
But  O  Govatt,  dear  Govatt !  Kick  that  spec- 
tacle-mongering  son  of  a  Pen-hatchet  out  of 
reation,  and  remain  alone,  from  the  date 
iicreof,  invested  with  the  rank  and  office  o. 
Penmaker  to  my  immortal  Hardship,  with  all 
the  dignities  and  emoluments  thereunto 
annexed. 

Given  from  Apollo's  temple  in  the  odorifer- 
ous Lime  Grove  Street  in  what  Olympiad  our 
Inspiration  knows  not,  but  of  the  usurping 
Christian  Aera  1799.    Oct.  8. 

S.  T.  Coleridge. 
Govatt  is  expected  to  express  his  gratitude  by 
an  immediate  present  of  half  a  dozen  pens, 
amended — if    indeed    the    reprobates    be    not 
incorrigible. 

All  too  soon  we  left  March  Mills. 
We  had  to  hasten,  for  the  shadows  were 
gathering  fast  on  the  hills.  At  the 
mouth  of  Seven  Wells  Coombe  the  jiir 
was  charged  with  sweet  scents — 

Good   Lord,  how  sweetly  smells  the  honey- 
suckle 
In  the  hush'd  night,  as  if  the  world  were  one 
Of  utter  peace,  and  love  and  gentleness. 

Still  deeper  in  the  coombe  there  was 
profound  silence,  no  sound  save  the 
bark  of  the  fox  and  the  cry  of  a  wound- 
ed animal.  Night  came  on  apace,  and 
it  was  a  weird  walk  by  Triscombe  Stone 
in  the  darkness  and  adown  the  hill  to 
the  hospitable  shelter  of  the  farm  below. 


A 


AIR  GONGS 
NEW  instrument  of  torture  for 
city  dwellers  is  the  air  gong  for 
trolley  cars.  By  stepping  on  a  valve 
the  motorman  can  set  the  gong  bang- 
ing at  the  rate  of  eight  hundred  vigor- 
ous blows  a  minute — wholly  beyond 
his  most  ambitious  former  efforts. 
Comprcssetl  air  from  the  same  tank 
used  for  the  airbrakes  operates  the 
hammer. 

This  new  invention  will  be  welcomed 
by  the  motormen,  for  truck  drivers 
Kenerally  ease  the  loads  for  their  horses 
by  driving  on  the  cartracks;  and  the 
motormen  of  cars  overtaking  the  teams 
have  had  to  express  their  annoyance 
by  stamping  on  the  gong  at  the  expense 
of  much  energy. 


Results  That  Satisfy 

i-      Your  painter  or  decorator  will  be  glad  tojuse  Liquid  Granite  if  you  say  the 
word. 

He  knows  there  is  no  better  varnish  obtainable  for  your  floors,  linoleum  and 
general  interior  woodwork. 

Liquid  Granite 

gi\  es  a  tough,  elastic  surface  that  resists  wear  and  is  lastingly  beautiful.     Washing 
with  soap  and  water  does  not  affect  it. 

•'■    Fifty-six  years  of  honest  manufacturing  are  behind  Liquid  Granite'and'every 
other  Perry  Brothers'  product,  including  these  two  well  known  brands: 


Luieberry  White  Enamel — For  white  interior 
t  finisliing;  a  wliite  enamel  that  stays  white. 


Luxeberry  Wood  Finish — For  all  the  finest  rub- 
hed  or  polistied  finish  on  interior  woodworlc. 


Ask  your  dealer  about  them  or  write  us  direct  for  any  information  you  may 
desire  on  the  varnish  question. 

BERRY  BROTHERC 
I  IINCOB.rOR-A,Ti:D>  *       ^^ 

Grid's  Lar^esfV^rnish  Makers  V-^ 


Established  1858 


WALKERVILLE,  ONT 


m 


m 


DON'T  WAIT  'TIL  DUCK-TIME 

BUT  learn  now  of  the  begt  .-ind  most  perfect  "birds"  you  ever  shot  ovrr^ 
MA-SON'S  DKCOYS,  Ducks.  Snipe,  Geese,  Swan  and  Crow  Decous 
our  Specialty.  Their  excellent  reputation  during  yeiira  of  use  have  made  us 
the  Uriest  manufacturer!  in  the  world.  All  simrtsmen  should  have  our 
illustratetl  catalogue.     Sent  I'REIC  on  request. 

MASUNS    DKCOV    FAtTOKV,    460    Urooklyn    Ave..   Detroit,    Mich. 


A  "YANKRB'S  VIBW  OF  ENGLAND'S  DUTY  TO 
HERSELF  AND  TO  CANADA 


THE     50\A/ING 

A  BIG  BOOK  ON  A  BIG  SUBJECT— PRICE,  $1.25 
VANDERHOOF-GUNN  CO.,  LIMITED,  -  London  and  Toronto. 


i 


198 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


For  that 

late 

Supper 


Just  a  light,  nourishing 
snack   before    retiring— try 

^Crezoiit  Cbee^e-^ 

Easily  Tdigested — pure  and 
wholesome.  The  delicious 
flavor  of  Ingersoll  Cream 
Cheese  is  most  enjoyable. 
Send  for  little  Ingersoll  Re- 
cipe folder  telling  how  to 
make  d  a  i  n  t]y  dishes  for 
everyday. 

"Spreads  like   Butter" 

Sold  by  all  Grocers  in 
15c  and  25c  packages. 


The  Ingersoll 

Packing  Co.,  Ltd. 
Ia£ersoll,      -     Cot. 


WEANING  BABY 

It  is  always  an  anxious  time  with 
Mothers  when  it  is  advisable  to  wean 
the  Baby,  to  know  what  is  best  to  feed 
them  on. 

There  is  nothing  better  than 

NEAVE'S    FOOD    FOR    INFANTS 

It  is  used  in  every  part  of  the  world, 
and  has  been  the  standard  food  in 
En<;land  for  nearly  90  years. 

It  is  the  oldest,  the  cheapest,  and 
still  i/ie  best. 

"  231  Dorien  Street, 
Montreal,  30  June  1913. 
Dear  Sir  :— 

I  received  the  sample  of  Neave's 
Food   and   can    highly    recommend   it. 

My  Mother  used  it  for  a  family  of 
13  children — my  wife  is  pleased  with  it. 
Our  Baby  is  increasing  daily  in  weight 
and  she  says  all  her  friends  shall  know 
of  the  food. 

Yours  truly, 

C.  H.  LEWIS." 

NEAVE'S  FOOD  is  sold  in  i  lb.  tins 
hy  all  druggists. 

FREE  TO  MOTHERS.  Write  for  free 

tin    of    Neave's    Food   and   copy   of   a 

vr'--Me   Book— "Hints   About    Baby" 

Can.ndian   Agent   Edwin  XJtley, 

W      ont  Street  East,  Toronto.         43 

s.   J.  R.  Neave  &  Co.,  England. 


This  department  is  under  the  direction  of  "Kit"  who  under  this  familiar  pen 
name  has  endeared  herself  to  Canadian  women  from  Belle  Isle  to  Victoria.  Every 
month  she  will  contribute  sparkling  bits  of  gossip,  news  and  sidelights  en  Ufe  at 
seen  through  a  woman's  eyes. 

burg — and  a  month  later  you  may  find 
him  walking  about  the  streets  in  Van- 
couver. He  is  like  the  mist  the  wind 
drives  before  it;  like  the  sea  fog  that 
surrounds  the  gray,  struggling  ships; 
like  spindrift  or  the  long  wraith-like 
clouds  we  see  sometimes  drifting  rapid- 
ly across  a  clear  sky.  And  yet — in 
appearance  he  is  strikingly  like  Sir 
Edward  Carson,  the  Irish  firebrand, 
the  man  with  the  face  of  the  fanatic, 
grim,  large-eared,  magnificent.  Mr. 
Blackwood  has,  however,  the  saving 
feature  of  a  sensitive  and  even  humor- 
ous mouth  which  no  ghost  or  fanatic  we 
ever  heard  of  had  the  good  luck  to 


REVENANTS 

Now  and  again 
From  over  the  Sea, 
An  odd  book — a  weird  book 

Finds  its  way  to  me. 

pDGAR  ALLEN  POE  has  been  re- 
^— '  incarnated,  and  is  again  at  his 
work  in  this  old  world  making  uncanny 
tales,  in  the  person  of  Algernon  Black- 
wood, who  has  been  termed  the  laure- 
ate of  the  occult.  He  has  crept  from 
the  shadow  of  the  wings  into  the  spot- 
light like  one  of  his  own  ghosts,  and  the 
world  is  pausing  in  its  song  and  dance 
to  listen  to  him  tell  a  Ten-minute 
Story. 

Is  your  literary  mind  jaded  ?  Then 
you  will  find  in  the  work  of  this  author 
an  atmosphere  of  suspense  and  terror 
that  will  thrill  you.  Blackwood  has 
written  eight  or  nine  strange  books, 
and  his  "John  Silence"  has  just  been 
brought  to  this  country.  It  is  a  weird 
book,  the  story  of  a  Physician  Extra- 
ordinary whose  "cases"  are  the  souls, 
not  the  bodies,  of  sinners.  He  is  a 
master  of  the  horrible,  and  his  latest 
work — those  little  Ten-minute  Stories 
— -are  brimful  of  the  sort  of  thing  that 
makes  your  hairs  stir  upon  your  head, 
and  keeps  you  watching  out  of  the 
corner  of  your  eye  the  tantrums  of  the 
window  curtain  as  it  moves  and  swirls 
in  the  midnight  wind. 

Mr.  Blackwood  once  lived  in  Canada. 
He  worked  on  a  farm  here,  edited  a 
Methodist  Magazine  and  superintended 
a  dairy.  He  appears  to  be  a  Bart 
Kennedy  type — a  natural  tramp,  yet 
a  poet,  who  loves  the  wind  on  the  hills 
and  hears  voices  whispering  in  the 
long  grasses,  and  sees  shuddering 
spirits  amid,  the  green  branches  of  the 
trees.  He  claims  no  spot  of  earth  as 
a  home.  All  the  world  is  his  homing 
place;  all  he  owns  is  three  trunks  and 
probably  a  typewriter.  To-day  he  is 
in  London — a  week  after  in  St.  Peters- 


possess. 

MASTER  OF  ROSICRUCUNISM 

'■PHE  author  of  "John  Silence"  be- 
■*■  lieves  in  the  ghosts  of  prenatal 
obsession.  Here  indeed  is  something 
for  the  Eugenics  to  prattle  about.  Of 
what  use  their  mere  material  safeguard- 
ing of  the  race,  if  behind  the  Great 
Grey  Veil  there  stalks  a  horrible  pro- 
cession of  hideous  things,  malignant 
forces' of  nature,  demoniac  spirits  which 
are  ever  seeking  entrance  through  the 
portals  of  the  unborn  child's  tiny  body, 
to  launch  themselves  again  and  again 
into  the  world  where  they  torture  and 
ruin  and  wreck  poor  human  atoms. 
Even  animal  psychology — the  souls  of 
the  cat  and  dog — -are  made  themes  of 
the  ghost-poetry  of  this  strange  writer. 
Poe  with  his  Black  Cat  and  House  of 
Usher  stories  seems  tame  beside  him, 
this  extraordinary  maker  of  tales,  who 
writes  from  the  Caucasus  such  a  story 
as  the  "Centaur,"  from  the  Jura 
Mountains,  whence  he  sends  us  "Pan's 
Gardens,"  to  the  Dorset  woods  to  find 
"Uncle  Paul,"  and  to  the  Alps  to  meet 
"A  Prisoner  in  Fairyland." 

It  is,  however,  such  tales  as  "The 
Deferred  Appointment,"  "You  May 
Telephone  from  Here,"  and  "Violence," 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


which  reveal  Mr.  Blackwood's  supreme 
gift  of  enthrall  and  expectation.  You 
know  that  the  deferred  appointment 
must  be  one  kept  by  a  dead  man  after 
you  read  the  first  line  or  so.  Are  you 
going  to  drop  the  book  ?  Not  you. 
You  are  caught  from  the  moment 
Jenkyn  the  photographer  fixed  the  last 
hook  of  his  shop  shutter,  to  that  when 
he  saw  the  face  in  the  camera;  just  as 
you  know  something  is  coming — 
something  that  will  make  you  turn 
the  page  swiftly  and  with  a  nervous 
thrill  when  the  ghostly  telephone  rings 
in  the  middle  of  the  night,  although 
the  receiver  is  taken  from  the  hook. 

■To  Algernon  Blackwood,  the  man 
himself,  the  world  is  thick  with  spirits. 
The  spirit  of  evil  walks  among  us,  the 
posthumous  subsistence  of  desire  fol- 
lows us  on  into  the  Other  Land  and 
returns  through  us,  or  rather  through 
our  dead  and  gone  ancestors,  to  torment 
again  with  its  raging  passion  another 
human.  He  deals  with  the  terrible, 
the  occult,  the  psychic.  Some  of  the 
greatest  minds  of  the  world  are  obsessed 
by  the  same  ideas.  The  age  of  mocking 
has  gone  by.  He  has  but  a  rtiin  soul 
who  can  stand  and  laugh  in  a  world 
which  to-day  teems  with  surprises,  with 
scientific  achievement,  a  world  which 
already  has  its  hand  on  the  curtain 
which  divides  it  from  that  other — the 
world  mystic,  psychic  and  discarnate. 
I  look  at  the  grim,  Carson-like  face,  the 
great  domed  head,  the  large  eyes  that 
seem  to  peer  into  spaces  beyond  these 
horizons,  the  saving  sensitive  mouth, 
and  know  that  a  great  writer  has  come 
among  us — an  amazing  dreamer,  a 
poet,  and  an  author  of  a  literature  of 
fantasy  and  horror  before  which  the 
writings  of  Poe  and  Hoffman  are  but 
as  a  boy's  scribbling  upon  a  black- 
board. 

WHAT  IS  YOUR  FAD  ? 

TF  you  had  a  great  deal  of  money 
^  would  you  spend  any  of  it  upon  a 
fad,  and  if  so,  what  fad  ?  Not  but 
what  the  poorest  of  us  may  keep  a  fad 
by  us  as  a  sort  of  household  pet.  We 
know  a  washerwoman  whose  fad  is  the 
useful  one  of  collecting  soap  coupons. 
Whether  she  ever  realizes  on  them,  we 
cannot  say,  but  it  is  our  belief  that 
kleptomania  would  overtake  her  if  she 
saw  soap  coupons  straying  about  in 
any  home  she  "laundered"  for.  The 
old  man,  Bartly  Quinn,  who  for  ten- 
pence  a  day  and  his  dinner  used  to  sow 
early  vegetables  in  the  family  garden 
long  ago  in  Connaught,  was  a  col- 
lector of  snails.  Many's  the  dozen 
fat,  wet,  shiny  ones  the  child-Pedlar 
gathered  for  him  in  the  old  days  that 
•were  so  young  and  happy  ! 

"And  what  d'ye  want  with  them, 
Bartly  ?" 

"Shure,  agra,  I    do  be  sellin'  thim 
o  the  ould  wimmin  agin  the  wind." 


In  Spotless  Town  Professor  Wise 
Divides  and  adds  and  multiplies-^ 
Subtracts  the  cost  upon  a  slate 
4  cleaning-  thing^s  from  which  he  8. 
It  shows  good  cents  2  figure  so 
The  one-ders  of 


^P@[LO@  I 


Will  Sapolio 

(1)  CLEAN? 

(2)  SCOUR?' 

(3)  POLISH? 


Show  your  maid  how  easily  she  can  clean 
with  Sapolio.  Rub  just  the  amount  of  Sapolio 
you  need  on  a  damp  cloth. 

Show  her  how  quickly  the  Sapolio  suds 
remove  grease  spots  from  the  floor,  table  or 
shelves. 


^ 


Answer— (2)  YES. 


v^ 


Sapolio    quickly    scours    all    stains     and     rust 
from    steel    kitchen    knives — all    grease    from 
enamewar  e. 


Silver  wrapper 

bine,  hand 


c 


SAPOUia     ; 


-:.--'jiiiiiSiiesis;en¥jiMit 


Answer— (3)  YES. 

Sapolio  brilliantly  polishes  all  metal  surfaces 
— your  faucets,  aluminum,  tins  and  other  metal 
kitchen  ware,  bathroom  fixtures,  etc. 

Best  of  all,  you  know  Sapolio  cannot  harm 
the  smooth  surfaces,  or  roughen  your  hands.      I 

FREE  SURPRISE  FOR  CHILDREN! 

dear  children! 

We  have  a  surprise  for  you.  a  toy  spotless  town- 
just   LIKE  the  real  one,  ONLY  SMALLER.  IT  IS   &V*  INCHES    LONS. 
THE    NINE   ('*'*  CUNNING     PEOPLE     OF   SPOTLESS    TOWN, 
IN  COLORS,  ARC    READY,    TO    CUT   OUT  AND    STAND    UP.     SENT 
FREE    ON    REQUEST. 

Enoch  Morgan's  Sons  Co.,  Sole  Manufacturer. 
New  York  City 


You  really  feel  clean  after  a  wash 

with 

WRIGHT'S  Coal  Tar  Soap 

It    leaves    an  almost   imperceptible 
but    delightfully    refreshing    odour. 

Protects  from  Infection.  12c.  jmr  Tablet. 


50VACUUM 
I    WASHER 


Coupon  Below 
Worth  $2.00 

IF    SENT    IMMEDIATELY 

Only  One  to  Each  Customer 

The  Rapid  Vacuum  Washer  takes  the 
drudgery  out  of  wash  day  as  well  as  the 
dirt  out  of  clothes.  It  is  a  snap  to  do  a 
■week's  washing  with  the  Rapid,  and  if 
you  do  not  get  one  now  at  this  low  price 
you  will  be  sorry  when  the  HOI 
WEATHER  comes. 

Weekly  Wa»h  Done  in  3  Minutes 
The  "  Rapid"  will  wash  the  heaviest  blankets 
or  the  finest  laces  without  chance  of  injury.  It 
will  wash  a  tub  full  of  anything  wa.shablc  in 
J  minules,  and  blue  the  whole  family  wash  in  30 
seconds. 

The  Ball  Valve  Does  the  Work 
There  are  hundreds  of  different  kiiul.i  of  valves 
but  the  Btll  Valve  is  the  only  one  known  that 
will  absolutely  create  a   Th;^  is  —  (pL^  I  he  Ball  i 
perfect  vacuum.    Take 
the  Ball  Valve  out  of 
the   "Rapid"   and   the 
washer  would  be  use- 
less. And  yet  the  Rapid 
Vacuum  Washer  is  the 
only  washer  that  has  a 
valve    of    any    kind. 
Figure     it      out      for 
yourself. 

What  You  Will  Get  for  $1.50 

You  will  Get  a  Washer  that— 

Is  the  best  and  strongest  made. 

Has  been  awarded  prizes  over  850  machinei 

in  competition. 
Is  the  lightest  machine  made. 
Is  theeasicst  machine  to  work. 
Will  save  you  many  dollars  a  year  by  not 

wearing  out  your  clothes. 
Is  capable  of  washing  anything   from    lace 

to  carpets. 
Can  be  operated  by  a  child  often. 
Will  last  a  lifetime. 

Will  save  you  many  hoursof  needless  toil. 
Can  be  used  equally  w^ell  in  boiler,  pail  oi 

washtub. 
Can  be  dried  with   a  cloth  in  ten  seconds. 
(Nothing  to  take  apart,  nothing  to  lose.) 
Will  do  all  we  claim  for  it  or  we  will  return 

every  cent  of  your  money. 

NO   MORE   BnilNG.     NO   MORE   RUBBING. 

YOU  CAN  THROW  YOUR  WASHBOARD  AWAY. 

FREE!    Tanty's  Cook  Book    F  R  E  E I 

Kveryone  has  heard  of 
Tantythefamouschef.who 
has  cooked  for  nearly  all 
the  crowned  heads  of  Eur- 
ope. We  have  just  bought 
a  whole  edition  of  his  illus- 
trated Cook  Book,  regular 
price  $1.00,  and  to  encour- 
age you  to  send  for  the 
Rapid  Vacuum  Washer 
NOW,  we  make  the  follow- 
ing offer:— 


Coupon  Good  for  $2.00  Cash  ■ 

Send  this  coni>oii  and  Sl.-">0  cash,  for  the  ■ 

S3. 50  Rapid  Vacuum  Washer.    Delivered  ■ 

by  parcel  post  to  your  address  all  char-  ■ 

ge.s  paid.     FREE  !    If  you  send  your  J| 

order  within  ten  days  from  the  date  you  ■ 

received  your  paper,  we  will  send  along  ■ 

with  the  Rapid  Vacuum  Washer,  absol-  ■ 

utely  frci  of  charae,  a  full   size,    well-  ■ 

bound  and  illustratedcopyof  TANTVS  ■ 

COOK      BOOK  —  regular     price    $1.00.  ■ 

REMEMBER,  if  you  s^nd  this  coupon  ■ 

and  $1.50  to-day  you  will  get  both  the  ■ 

Washer  and  Cook  Book.  ■ 

Fisher-Ford  Mfg.  Co.  J 

Dept  CM  31UueenSt.  W., Toronto,  Ont,  | 


Agents  Wanted 

We  have  an  exceptionally  attractive 
proposition  to  offer  enterprising  men  sell- 
ing Cadillac  Vacuum  Cleaners.     Address 

CLEMENTS  MFG.  CO. 
78  Duches.  SI.  TORONTO 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"The  wind  !  musha,  what  sort  of  a 
wind,  Bartly  ?" 

"The  colic,  asthore.  A  snail's  shell 
in  the  pocket  is  a  sure  cure  for  the 
colic."  And  faith,  one  day  we  found 
one  in  our  own  grandmother's  petticoat 
pocket. 

WOULD  IT  BE  SPIDERS 

T  F  ever  the  Pedlar  gets  a  trifle  of  cash 
^  together  in  his  Pack — which  he  will 
not,  the  same  ever  being  filled  with 
trash- — he  would  build  himself  an 
Entomo-Lodge  and  study  insects. 
Especially,  spiders.  As  a  casual  stu- 
dent of  spiders,  we  beg  to  offer  the 
figure  of  the  male  spider  as  a  crest  for 
the  militant  suffragettes.  An  admir- 
able figurehead  for  that  superb  cause 
he  would  make.  We  are  the  lucky 
possessor  of  a  complete  set  of  Fabre— 
that  delightful  entomologist^so  full 
of  charm  and  humour  and  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  very  great — the  man  who 
has  been  immortalized  by  the  insect. 
They  are  going  to  build  a  statue  to  the 
old  man  in  France  now,  though  they 
let  him  almost  starve  for  a  long  time, 
and  decorated  him  with  the  legion 
d'honneur  when  his  legs  were  trembling 
under  him  by  reason  of  hunger. 

And  of  all  insects  the  spider  has  made 
Fabre.  His  book  on  him  has  just 
popped  across  the  water  to  our  Insec- 
torium,  and  lo  !  our  fad  has  taken 
possession  of  us  this  fine  hot  July  morn- 
ing after  spending  the  best  part  of  an 
hour  watching  the  male  spider  tangoing 
before  his  grim  lady-love  in  order  to 
inspire  her  with  admiration  for  his 
sprightly  powers.  The  poor  fellow 
does  the  most  outlandish  caperings, 
stretching  his  legs  on  one  side  of  his 
body  while  doubling  them  on  the  other. 
Meanwhile  the  lady  spider  remains 
rooted  to  the  spot.  But  she  is  not 
admiring  him.  She  is  sizing  him  up — 
his  juiciness,  his  plumpness,  his  rotund- 
ity and  general  appearance  as  an  appe- 
tizing article  for  afternoon  high  tea. 

The  poor  fool  capers  and  whirls  and 
so  tires  himself  out,  which  is  exactly 
what  his  beloved  wants  him  to  do.  By 
the  time  he  reaches  her,  and  engages 
her  in  the  nuptial  whirl,  he  is  too 
fatigued  to  "warstle  wi'  her"  and  make 
his  escape.  So  she  eats  her  bride- 
groom up  and  looks  out  over  her  web 
for  another  unwary  gallant.  Once  in 
a  very  long  while  the  groom  escapes. 
He  has  to  be  ver^^  hardy,  strong  and 
active  to  manage  it.  When  such 
occurs,  the  lady  retreats  in  sullen  mood 
to  the  centre  of  her  web  and  seizes 
without  mercy  all  the  other  young 
chaps  who  pass  that  way  and  begin  the 
courting  dance  before  her.  No  more 
marriages  for  her.  She  is  a  militant 
out  to  vote  male  spiders  into  her 
carcass,  and  fatten  on  the  same.  Man 
indeed  !  She  has  no  use  for  such  poor 
creatures  except  to  hang  them  in  the 


r  ENGAGEMENT  RINGS 

Diamond!  of  htch  quality  and    brilliance,  m 

) finely  proportioned  lik  c^ld  platinum  tipped 
lettinsB.     They  are  the  best  value  obtainaole. 


a^  (^ 


»25.00  S*0  00 


t.-in  no 


occ 

$6.00  $8.00  $7.00 


WEDDING  RINGS 

Our  rings  are  perfect  in  form  and  color.    They 
are    made    of    18k    gold    without  joints  and 
hardened  by  a  special  process,  ensuring    the 
hardest  wearing  quality- 
Sue  card  sent  to  any  address. 

Correspondence  solicited. 

JOHN  S.  BARNARD 

194  Dundas  Street,  London,  Canada. 


Better  than  a  "Hired  Girl" 


Look  for  the  Trade  Mark 


NECHTEL 
ITCHEN 
.ABINET 


Xo  sen.'ant 
could  be  half  so 
helpful   as    a 

KNECHTEL 
KITCHEN 
KABINET 


or  save  t  he 
housewife  as 
much  work  and 
worry.  This 
„^„.^^„„^„  kitchen  improv- 

REGISTERED  ^r     contains 

everything  needed  in  one  place  and  cuts  a  woman's 
work  to  one  half.  Fitted  with  bins,  jars  and  canisters, 
it  provides  a  place  for  everything  and  keeps  ever>-thing 
in  that  place.  You  sit  down  to  it  and  don't  have  to 
get  up  again  for  a  single  thing — ever>'thing  is  right  there 
inTront  of  you,  in  its  own  special  compartment. 

A  Knechtel  Kitchen  Kabinet 

makes  a  big  improvementin  theaspectof  your  kitchen 
and  saves  you  work,  worr>'  and  money. 

Write  Jot  Booklet  "M"  and  choose  the  style  you  prefer 


Sold  by 

Best 

Furniture 

Stores  in 

Every 

Town  and 

City. 


The  Knechtel  Kitchen  Cabinet  Co.,  Ltd. 

HANOVER  •  ONTARIO 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


larder  until  it  is  time  to  eat  them.  He 
who  cannot  get  away  after  a  courtship 
is  lost.  The  female  of  the  spider 
species  is  in  every  case  deadlier  than 
the  male. 

WHY  NOT  A  ROYAL  GOVERNOR? 

T  ATELY  some  politicians — extra- 
ordinary people  !  voiced  as  a  griev- 
ance the  announcement  of  another 
royal  prince  as  Governor-General-to-be 
of  this  proud  Dominiori  of  ours,  after 
the  departure  of  H.  R.  H.  the  Duke  of 
Connaught.  One  or  two  even  spoke 
of  the  thing  as  a  menace  to  the  democ- 
racy of  Canada.  No  governor  since 
DufTerin  has  endeared  himself  more  to 
the  Canadians  than  the  simple  kindly 
gentleman,  Queen  Victoria's  only  sur- 
viving son.  The  Duke  of  Connaught 
was  adored  in  Ireland  even  in  the  most 
agitated  times  of  that  "disthressful 
counthry."  He  never  made  his  appear- 
ance in  Dublin  without  meeting  a  roar 
of  cheers  and  Saint  Patrick's  Day  in 
the  Morning  from  regimental  band  and 
street  boy's  mouth  organ.  I  remember 
whacking  a  little  gossoon  with  the 
handle  of  my  umbrella  for  adding  to  the 
general  uproar  one  day  in  Stephen's 
Green  when  the  Fusiliers  were  march- 
ing and  the  "Irish"  Duke  with  them. 
The  housemaids  ran  out  in  their  caps 
and  aprons  to  look  at  him,  and  say 
what  a  fine  upstanding  man  he  was. 
Believe  me,  it  will  take  some  quick 
marching  on  the  part  of  his  successor 
to  keep  up  with  His  Highness  of  Con- 
naught. 

As  to  Democracy  !  Like  Bart  Ken- 
nedy, we  once  believed  intensely  in  it — 
and  do  in  a  measure  still — but  this 
government  for  the  people  by  the 
people— as  practised  in  the  great 
Republic  to  the  south  of  us — is  dis- 
tinctly humourous.  Individual  liberty 
and  Democracy  do  not  make  a  go(jd 
team.  Democracy  will  tell  you  that 
such  things  as  hunger  and  poverty 
exist  not  where  it  rules.  In  demo- 
cratic lands  the  capitalist  is  a  philan- 
thropic gentleman  who  would  lose  his 
sleep  if  he  thought  there  was  such  a 
thing  as  sweating  the  worker.  What 
some  of  our  good  politicians  in  Canada 
apparently  fear  is  Snobocracy,  in  other 
words  that  Royal  Governorships  will 
breed  cads.  As  though  we  have  not 
always  had  the  snob  and  the  cad — 
poor  paltry  beings — with  us  !  As  if 
they  were  not  in  every  community  ! 
As  if  they  did  not  fatten  and  flourish 
in  democratic  countries  most  of  all  ! 

"LAR  POOR  LAR" 

pOLAIRE,  the  jolie-laide  of  the  stage, 
says  that  all  women  should  be 
married  but  no  men.  Precisely  our 
own  idea,  but  then  how  are  the  mar- 
riages to  l)e  made  for  all  the  women  ? 
We  must  leave  it  to  the  woman  with 
the   smallest   waist   in    the    world    to 


MI  T 


FarinlnQ  - 


The   Marke-t-  ContrG  Province 
of  WcstGrn  vanadca 


IF  YOU 

COME 

WEST 


;>  .1  I  I'niniiiii-x-uM-  [msines^  prop- 
osition, no  man  who  is  intend- 
ing to  take  up  a  farm  in  Western 
Canada  can  afford  to  overlook  Manitoba  in  picking 
his  location. 

Think  for  a  minute.  It  is  the  Oldest  Settled 
province,  which  is  another  way  of  saying  that  it 
has  steadied  down  to  a  solid  financial  basis  as  the 
MARKET  CENTRE  for  the  entire  West.  Winni- 
peg is  tlie  Metropolis,  and  no  matter  how  many 
spokes  are  placed  in  the  Wheel  of  Progress — no 
matter  how  the  rith  is  widened  the  Hub  will  still 
be  the  Hub.  Winnipeg  has  got  too  much  of  a 
head-start  ever  to  be  outsted  from  her  present 
position. 

The  man  whose  farm  is  located  in  Manitoba, 
on  Winniiwg's  doorstep,  has  the  shortest  haul  to 
market,  the  lowest  railway  rates,  the  best  railway 


sirvice.     It    has    been    esti- 
mated that  the  difference  in 
dollars  and   cents  in  actual 
saving  to  the  Manitoba  farm- 
er in  this  connection  ranges 
from  $1.80  to  S3.20  per  acre 
per  year. 
Do  you  know  that  wheat 
is  ripe  in  Manitoba  about  18  days  earlier 
than  anywhere  else;  that  oats  are  ripe 
from  10  to  20  days  earlier;  that  barley 
is  ripe  from  11  to  22  days  earlier?     Do 
you  see  that  this  means  the  Manitoba 
crops  are  away  to  market  before  grain 
congestion    clogs    the    transportation 
channels  and  while  the  market  price  is 
at  the  top? 

Manitoba  fjirming  is  farming  under 
ideal  natural  conditions.  No  irrigation 
whatever.  Yet  the  greatest  rainfall 
comes  after  seeding,  when  it  is  most 
needed ;  it  does  not  interfere  with  field 
preparations,  the  ripening  process,  or 
the  harvesting. 

The   market  opportunity  for  dairy 
and  all  manner  of  food  products 
in  Manitoba  is  made  of  monci'. 
The  income  that  can  be  realized 
from    ten   or   twenty  cows   in 
Manitoba  is  several  times  as 
large  as  the  earning  capacity  of 
the  average  clerk  or  office  em- 
ployte.     Manufactured  cream- 
ery butter  increased   1.000,000 
lbs.  in  1913   while  the  increase 
in  milk  consumed  was  neariy  .^.(HW.OOO  lbs.;    but 
there  is  no  hope  of  the  supply  catching  up  to  tl^ 
demand  in  any  branch  of  farming. 

Rural  telephones,  good  schools  the  finest  Agri- 
cultural College  on  the  continent  the  most  progres- 
sive policy  of  agricultural  instruction— these  are  a 
very  few  of  the  factors  that  point  to  MANITOB.V 
as  the  proper  location  for  your  farm.  Your  oppor- 
tunity lies  in  the  fact  that  there  is  still  plenty  of 
room  for  thousands  more,  whether  you  are  looking 
for  improved  lands  at  advantageous  prices  or  for  the 
free  gift  of  a  homestead. 

WRITE  AT  ONCE    for   literature   and 

Specific  infor  n  -    >  i 

Ask  any  questions 
you  like.  .^0 


HON.  GEORGE  LAWRENCE         / '  * 

MINISTER  OF  AGRICULTURE  AND  IMMIGRATION 
WINNIPEG 


-r^ 


The  Best  of  all  Remedies  for  Children. 


fr  little        1 


From  Mr,  H.  f-IVF.UKi*,  Sorvap  Hoiuf,  I*teton,  Sova  Seotia:-^ 

■*  I  am  writln«  to  you  in  prnlno  of  your  Gripe  WhUt  a  My 

"(flrl  who  it*  now  \'2  niitntliH  ol<l  ha-s  thrivrrl  on  it  wontUTfuIlv.     ^^ '•  mivr  k'i%''n  tt  to  her 

"ahnoHt  8inc<;  she   wu.h  iioni.       WOODWAKD'S    (lUIPK    WATKU   has  prov.-il   the   bcmt 

"of  all  n-nu'dii's  w«  hiivo  triwl.    Wc  wniil.l  not  \ni  without  it.    Trustinii  tluit  our  uxporionce 

'will  rlecidt-  othcn*   to  tout  thin  moHt  viihmMc   nicdioino,  I  am,   yours   faithfully, 

'  H.  KvKnKrt,  (innleucr  to  Ijon]  Htrathconn,  lliKh  Commiiutioncr  o(  Canada." 

WOODWARD'S  GRIPE  WATER 

Quickly  relieve*  the  pain  and  distress  caused  by  the  numerous  familiar 
ailments  of  childht)od. 


INVAf,nAm  t  ! 

For  three  itrneratii>ns  it  lui-. 
It  oonlains  no  preparation  of  M'>rphiii.  ' 

ll.llH    ri'Oor.l    Mf    M,,||r,il    .\l.|r-v;>l. 

Of  any   DruKKists.         Be  sure  it's   WOODWARD'S 


NO. 

I  I'd  infant  vitalitv. 

IruK,  and  has  behind  It  a 


202 


PROBABLY 

— you  don't 
want  a  "lamp' 
shade "  dress 
— but  you  do 
want  your 
clothes  to  be 
stylish  and 
c  h  a  r  m  i  n  g — 
then  consider 
how  much  you 
can  add  to 
them  by  the 
use  of  pleating 
— a  pleated 
tunic,  for  in' 
stance.  There 
are  innumer' 
able   ways   to 

use  pleating,  and  it's  the  most  inexpensiveway  to 
distinction  in  your  dress. 

We  are  equipped  to  handle  any  kind  of  pleating 
whatever,  as  well  as  scalloping,  hemstitching, 
making  covered  buttons,  etc. 

Every  order  will  be  right  on  time,  too. 

Write  for  our  booklet  of  prices. 

TORONTO  PLEATING   COMPANY 

Dept.  G.  TORONTO  4 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

arrange.  Polaire,  who  has  a  large 
head  and  face,  by  the  way:  and  a  foot 
that  the  Fat  Woman  in  the  side  show 
need  not  despise,  would  marry  if  she 
could  find  the  perfect  husband.  Since 
that  work  of  art  does  not  exist,  she 
would  be  content  with  a  composite 
man.  He  should  love  like  a  French- 
man, (Nom  Dieu  !)  attend  to  business 
like  an  American,  and  dress  like  an 
Englishman.  The  Frenchman  should 
be  for  the  boudoir,  the  American  for 
the  office  and  the  Englishman  for  the 
promenade. 

A  woman  should  marry  when  she 
can,  a  man  when  he — can't  avoid  it. 
The  woman  should  wed  when  she  has 
the  world  before  her,  the  man  when 
he  has  left  the  flesh  and  the  devil 
behind  him.  Who  would  want  such 
a  dried  out,  spiritless,  undigestive  sort 
of  husband  ?  Why,  even  a  lady  spider 
would  refuse  to  lunch  ofif  a  lover  so 
meagre  and  emasculated. 

Nor  do  we  think  Mile.  Polaire  would 
be  satisfied  with  any  such  apology  for 
a  man.  Only  the  other  day  she 
smacked  the  face  of  an  old  "satyre" 
who  had  been  making  love  to  her  in  too 
pacific  a  manner.  Like  all  artistes,  she 
does  not  believe  in  being  "the  half"  of 
anyone,  even  a  "worser"  half.  To  be 
frank — all  these  women  who  call  them- 
selves "artistes"  seem  to  be  keener  on 
marrying  than  any  others.  Most  of 
thehi  have  jumped  in  and  out  of  wed- 
lock three  times,  but  every  one  of  them 
from  Bernhardt  down — believes  that 
because  she  is  an  "artiste"  she  can  do 
pretty  well  as  she  pleases,  married  or 
single. 

"We  live  for  our  art  alone,"  you  will 
hear  them  gush  if  it  is  your  privilege, 
as  it  is  the  Pedlar's,  to  drop  into  the 
Green  Room  and  sympathize  with  the 
poor  things.  "An  artiste  must  be 
complete  in  herself  !"  Oh,  you  Billie 
Burke  Ziegfeld  !  oughtn't  you  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself,  after  all  the  sweet 
nothings  you  poured  in  our  ears  once, 
longer  ago  than  either  of  us  care  to 
remember,  about  marriage  and  the 
"artiste." 

BRITAIN'S  GREATEST  STATESMAN 

ASIDE  from  party  opinion  of  any 
kind,  we  must  admit  that  Mr. 
Asquith  is  as  brilliant  a  statesman  as 
ever  Britain — whose  parliamentary 
crown  has  been  set  with  jewels  of  men 
— possessed.  Whether  he  pilots  the 
ship  of  Home  Rule  on  her  stormy 
passage  into  port,  we  cannot  know  at 
this  writing,  but  we  may  predict  that 
he  will.  For  a  long  time  the  Prime 
Minister  of  England  was  thought  to 
be  too  cautious  and  timid  to  adventure 
ever  upon  any  striking  policy. 

Men  thought  of  him  as  rather  a 
staid,  studious,  unsympathetic  sort 
of  man,  who  would  very  well  captain 
the  Ship  of  State  while  she  rode  seas 


that  were  calm,  but  who  was  no  man 
to  rule  when  the  tempest  arose,  and  the 
great  winds  tore  across  seas  political, 
and  ahead  boomed  the  great  black 
rock  of  Home  Rule.  The  world  has 
learned  differently.  It  has  discovered 
that  here  is  a  man  of  cool  judgment, 
indomitable  will,  and  an  activity  of 
intellect  which  is  quick  to  grasp  any 
political  complication  that  might  at 
any  moment  arise.  Witness  the  wise 
agility  with  which  he  stepped  into  the 
empty,  but  yet  warm,  shoes  of  the 
Secretary  for  War  when  all  that  Army 
flutter  arose,  and  high  officials  were 
reported  as  resigning  every  hour. 

Mr.  Asquith's  greatest  gift,  accord- 
ing to  the  immortal  "Tay  Pay,"  is  his 
capacity  for  attracting  the  loyalty  and 
friendship  of  those  with  whom  he 
works.  He  is  no  iron  Wellington — 
no  heartless  Napoleon,  no  chief  of 
austere  and  distant  personality,  but  a 
friendly  man  with  a  sense  of  humour. 
It  was  once  our  privilege  to  meet  Mr. 
Asquith,  and  his  resemblance  to  one 
whom  we  loved  was  so  marked  that 
there  was  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  like 
him  at  once.  This  may  account  for 
our  eulogium  here.  But  only  for  a 
small  part  of  it.  In  a  crowd,  you  would 
notice  Mr.  Asquith,  if  he  was  only 
sitting  quiet  in  a  corner.  He  has  that 
mighty  god-gift  of  a  fine  personality 
and  distinction.  The  manliness  of 
him  appeals  greatly  to  a  woman — a 
real  woman,  not  a  militant  lady.  He 
is  chivalrous  in  a  great  degree,  but  he 
has  no  use  for  the  forward,  bold  femin- 
ism of  the  day.  His  literary  taste  is 
severe  and  philosophic.  So  is  his  mind. 
But  he  has  a  big  heart — well  fenced 
about. 


Y^ 


A  FIRST-CLASS  FIGHTING  MAN 

'OU  cannot  but  admire  Sir  Edward 
Carson- — the  iron-jawed  opponent 
of  Mr.  Asquith — He  has  the  face  of  the 
fanatic — of  a  Savonarola  or  a  Torque- 
mada.  He  is  a  typical  North  of  Ire- 
land man  who  was — by  some  misstep 
of  Fate — born  in  Dublin.  For  he  is 
Ulsterman  plus  Orangeman  with  a 
little  to  spare.  You  cannot  associate 
him  with  sentiment,  and  yet  what  is  it 
but  sentiment  that  has  actuated  him 
throughout  the  restlessness  of  the 
Home  Rule  debates  ?  WTien  you  sit 
down  to  think  of  it,  it  is  sentiment  that 
swings  the  pendulum  of  the  world's 
clock.  Carson  always  seemed  to  us 
an  intellectual  sort  of  a  Jack  London, 
by  which  we  mean  a  red-meat,  wine- 
without-water  man.  We  should  hate 
to  ask  favors  of  this  hatchet-faced  being 
with  the  heavy-lidded  eyes,  the  aggres- 
sive jaw,  and  the  terrible  drooping  lips. 
Nor  would  we  fancy  ourselves  sitting 
in  a  sunny  corner  of  the  garden  reading 
poetry  to  him.  He  reminds  us  of  no 
one  more  than  the  conquered  chief  of 
the    Apaches — old    Geronimo — whose 


wet,  flabby  handshake  belied  the  bitter 
stare  of  hatred  in  his  eyes  the  night  we 
met  him. 

I  should  think  Sir  Edward  Carson 
would  stare  like  that  in  the  faded  blue 
eyes  of  the  gentlest  of  Popes,  the 
peasant-king  of  the  Vatican.  A  cyni- 
cal fellow,  too,  Sir  Edward,  yet  not 
without  his  rough,  funny  side.  He  has 
that  touch  of  kindliness — even  sweet- 
ness— all  who  are  bom  in  the  Fairyland 
of  Erin  have.  Some  call  it  the  blarney 
— others,  natural  courtesy.  If  a 
woman  fell  in  love  with  Sir  Edward, 
she  would  go  far  for  him.  He  has  the 
cave  man's  attraction  for  us.  Were 
we  a  Sabine  maiden  we  would  run  but 
feebly  before  the  Roman,  Carson. 
There  is  a  coarse  fibre  in  his  nature 
which,  too,  is  not  without  its  attraction. 
We  do  not  mean  coarse  in  the  vulgar 
or  unmoral  sense  at  all — but  a  sort  of 
rough  strength  of  mind  and  soul — a 
recklessness  which  one  can  hardly  fail 
to  admire.  Above  all  he  is  "a  first  class 
fighting  man." 

I  think  Ulster  adopted  her  own  when 
she  took  this  Dublin  boy  to  her  bosom. 
The  Ulster  cuckoo  had  dropped  an  egg 
in  the  nest  of  the  Leinster  thrush. 
And  the  thrush  raised  the  birdling. 
Then  Ulster  promptly  came  along  and 
claimed  her  own.  This  accounts  for 
the  saying  of  the  man  at  the  Cross- 
Roads  the  other  day — 

"I'm  a  Home  Ruler,  born  an'  bred," 
says  he,  "but  bedad  that  man  Carson 
dhraws  me  afther  him  half  the  time.  ■ 
Bad  luck  from  me,  but  I'd  kill  little 
Redmond  if  he  laid  a  hand  on  him  !" 

RAINY  DAY  SAINTS 

JULY  is  Saint  Swithin's  month. 
The  myth  falls  like  the  far  off  echo 
of  the  old  world;  yet  though  its  repeti- 
tion is  little  more  than  mechanical — 
like  Saint  Valentine's  Day — it  is  still 
referred  to  when  the  day  comes  round. 
You  will  find  it  recorded  on  most 
calendars  thus: — July  15th  (St.  Swith- 
in's Day) — which  will  remind  you  to 
take  your  umbrella  along  when  you  go 
out  to  market  for  the  household. 

The  fable  has  a  simple  and  devout 
air  which  entitles  it  to  respect,  all 
because  a  bishop  is  bound  up  with  it. 
Being  a  very  humble  man,  the  good 
Bishop  Swithin  of  Winchester  desired 
that  he  might  be  buried  in  the  common 
burial  ground  of  his  Minster,  in  order 
that  the  rain  might  fall  upon  his  grave 
and  the  wayfarer  walk  over  it.  He 
was  so  buried:  but  in  order  to  canonize 
him  they  had  to  dig  him  up  in  order 
to  place  him  in  a  shrine  inside  the 
church — which  was  exactly  what  the 
good  Bishop  did  not  want.  On  a 
certain  fifteenth  of  July  in  the  tenth 
century,  the  monks  gathered  for  this 
purpose.  But  it  began  to  rain,  and  it 
rained  the  next  day,  and  the  next,  and 
the  day  after,   and   for  forty  days — 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

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203 


ii 


CEETEE" 

Shaker-Knit 


SWEATER  COATS 

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Sleeves  and  pockets  are  knit  to  the  body  of  the  coat  and  will  not  pull 

away  aa  is  the  case  with  cheap  sweater  coats.     A  high  collar  is  added 

for  extra  comfort,  which  may  be  worn  either  up  or  down. 

A  "Ceetee"  Sweater  Coat  can  be  put  in  a  comer  of  your  suit  case 

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204 


Let  Us  Show  You 

Something  Easier 
Quicker   and  Better 

than  what  you  have  been  using  for 
housecleaning 

THIS    IS    IT 


There  are  over  a  million  in  use,  so  ask 
your  neighbor  about  it.  It  picks  up  every 
grain  of  dust  and  holds  it.  No  need  to 
climb,  or  reach,  or  get  down  on  your  knees. 
Reaches  top  of  furniture,  windows  and 
woodwork  as  well  as  under  the  bed  and 
furniture  of  all  kinds.  The  longer  you 
are  without  the 

the  longer  you  will  have  hard  unnecessary 
work. 

Ask  your  dealer,  or  tent  Express 
Paid  anywhere  in  Canada  for  $1^0 
ij  you  mention  "  Canada  Monthly." 

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FLAVOR,  SAVOR 

and  SYRUP 

all  come  from  one  I 

botle  of  I 

MAPLEINE 

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cakes,  icings,  candies,  ice  cream,  whipped 
cream  and  desserts. 

Savor  and  zest  for  dozens  of  dishes- 
baked  beans,  sweet  potatoes,  meats,  soups 
and  sauces. 

Syrupy  rich  and 
creamy,  is  made  by 
adding  Mapleine  to 
cane  sugar  and  hot 
water — n  o  boiling. 
Simple  and  economical. 


2  oz.  Bottle,  50c 

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CANADA  MONTHLY 

so  they  left  the  Bishop  in  his  plot  of 
earth  and  abandoned  the  idea  of 
transplanting  him,  taking  the  constant 
rain  as  a  sign  of  his  displeasure. 

But  if  it  rains  on  the  fifteenth  of 
July  or  any  other  you  may  happen  to 
be  here  for,  gather  in  a  clean  earthen- 
ware vessel  what  drops  you  may.  It 
is  the  specific  for  sore  eyes — according 
to  the  Saint's  Calendar — an(l  its  cura- 
tive power  is  infallible.  Other  coun- 
tries followed  England's  lead,  as,  in- 
deed, they  have  a  fashion  of  doing 
to-day.  In  Holland,  a  lady  fills  the 
office  on  July  6th.  In  Germany  the 
Seven  Sleepers  Day  occurs  on  the 
27th — and  if  it  rains  it  will  continue 
to  rain  for  forty  long  days.  St. 
Martin  is  the  Scot's  St.  Swithin,  but 
his  legend  is  lost  in  a  Scotch  mist — and 
we  have  no  rainy  day  saint  in  Ireland 
because  every  day  is  a  wet  day  there. 
Canada  is  too  young  and  far  too 
practical  to  mother  a  legend  of  any 
sort,  except  of  the  Indian  brand,  so  we 
are  safe  from  rainy  devastation  until 
the  coming  of  the  second  Flood  which 
is  slated  to  begin  in  the  Garden  of 
Eden  and  wipe  away  the  world,  its 
laughter,  its  sins,  and  its  sad  tears. 

HOT  AIR  PROVERBS 

VWE  have  just  finished  a  proverb 
^^  competition  in  our  town,  and  it 
was  noticeable  that  in  the  catalogue 
given  out  to  help  dull  students  of  the 
game,  the  Jamaica  proverbs  found  no 
place.  They  are  gloomy  sayings,  the  , 
output  of  a  slavish  population.  It  is 
difficult  to  find  one  of  them  dealing 
with  love  or  friendship.  Yet  there  are 
many  cute  and  quaint  sayings  which 
the  puzzle  people  would  do  well  to  pick 
up  and  make  pictures  of.  For  in- 
stance:— "The  rat  eats  the  cane,  and 
the  innocent  lizard  dies  for  it."  "The 
cockroach  never  gets  justice  when  the 
chicken  is  judge."  "Cockroach  eber 
so  drunk  he  no  walk  past  fowlyard." 
"He  who  advises  you  to  buy  a  big 
bellied  horse  will  not  help  you  to  feed 
him."  "A  man  is  not  known  till  he 
marries."  The  latter  has  an  odd 
derivation.  It  seems  that  in  the  old 
buccaneer  days,  it  was  the  habit  to  drop 
the  surname  while  plying  a  nefarious 
trade.  But  when  a  pirate  married  he 
took  good  care  to  insert  his  niore  or 
less  aristocratic  real  name  in  the 
register — thereby  turning  over  a  new 
leaf — the  leaf  of  the  marriage  register. 
There  is  another  reason — the  true  one 
— one  which  every  woman  knows:  viz., 
that  a  man's  real  littleness  or  greatness 
comes  out  after  the  honeymoon  has 
waned.     Then  it  is  that  she  knows  him. 

ANOTHER  TIME 

T  ONGJinto  the  night  we  sat  discuss- 
^  ing  Swedenborg  and  a  magazine 
story.  In  the  story  two  men  had  been 
hurt  in  a  motor  smash — the  one  fatally. 


niE  MOST  POPULAR  PERFLME  W  DAILYDSS 

INDISPENSABLE  ON  EVERY  DRESSING-TABLE 


For  tbe 
Batb  and  Toilet 

always  use  the  genuine 

MURRAY  a 

LANMAN'S 
Florida  Water 


m 


Ifflltations  of  this  delicious  ptrfiiiM 
7;;:^^        are  nambtrless,  but  it  has 
never  been  equalled. 

IT  REfBESHES  AND  DEUGOTS 

m»  do«s  no  othsr. 


Atw«7»  look  for  th«  Trftd*  M«rk. 


PREPARED    ONLf    av 

LANMAN  (Sk  KEMP 

NEWT   YORK 

and 


REFUSE    SUBSTITUTES! 


Always  b«  Hilre   to  look  for  our  Trade  Mrnrk 
on  tbe  ueck  of  tUe  bottle. 


IRON 
FENCE 


Wouldn't  an  iron  fence  of 
attractive  design  and  staunch 
quality  be  an  ornamental  and 
beneficial  addition  to  your 
lawn  ? 

We  can  sell  you  iron  fence 
of  quality  and  good  looks  for 
as  little  as  oO  cents  per  foot. 
It's  worth  your  while  to  write 
about  it. 

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London,  Canada 


RIDER   AeENTS  WANTED 

t,m,  iii>«r«  !•  iM«  ua  axUtiU  •  aui^  Iti4  Hj'>t  Wcrcia 

W*  ahlp   on  approvati  to 

my  ad<ij««  tm  Can«aa.   w*thc«t  ur 

<up~it.  ud  •iww  1 0  DAYS'  TRIAL 

It  will  not  c«rt  y«u  a  ceat  i  ly«u  «r«  aac 
T.rt.a^.1  after  luioc  bicvda  la  dayv. 

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Don't  have  any  "off  days."  Don't  allow  any 
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You    Can  Add  Years  to  Yonr  Life 

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That's    what     you 

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by  ?kin  irritation  that 
robs  you  of  sleep,  use  the  famous 
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Antexema    is   a   cooling,    non- 
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Antexeixia. 


Short -Story  Writing 

AVAmrnc  tit  forty  Icdtona  in  thf  hifltory. 
f'^rm,    ntnjrturr-,    nnd    writing    of    th<; 

,.       •" '-S*'Ty    taiiKlit    by    Dr.    J.    It.rtf 

hv-.riv.-K,.  Ivlit.irof  Lippinrotfs  Mii^a/.m.'. 
One  sluiitnt  writri:  " i  know  that  you  will 
©€  pitaaed  when  I  ttll  yoa  that  I  haO€  just 
Ttftivtd a  thtckfar $t2S  from  EvtryMy't' 
for  a  hamorotu  itory.  Thtv  a$k  for  more. 
lamftttinM  V9tv  happy,  mndvery  grateful  to 
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leadingi  colteKea. 

250-Pagm  Catalog  Frmm.     PUaam  AddroBB 
Tlie  Home  CorreaiiondencQ  School 

Dept.   297  Springfield,   Mass. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

He,  the  dead  man,  sat  up  after  awhile 
and  noticed  the  little  group  about  the 
car  looking  for  something  with  lan- 
terns. He  heard  his  own  name,  and 
lying  down  quietly  waited  for  them  to 
come  for  him.  But  the  searchers 
passed  him  by  after  placing  a  coat  over 
his  face.  "He  is  past  his  trouble," 
they  said,  "Let  us  find  the  living  man." 
"But  I  am  not  dead  !"  cried  the  dead 
man — "Why  I  am  here,  alive,  can't 
you  see  me  ?"  Only  the  sighing  wind 
answered. 

We  lighted  our  bedroom  candle. 
"Another  time,  old  man,"  we  said. 
"Look,  it  is  near  the  dawn-hour — " 
And  then,  walking  tiredly  up  the  steps 
towards  our  haven  near  the  top  of  the 
old  pear  tree,  came  Aldrich: — 

Somewhere — in  desolate  wind-swept 
In  Twilight-land — in  No  man's  land — 
Two  hurrying  Shapes  met  face  to  face, 
And  bade  each  other  stand. 


205 


"And  who  are  you  ?"  cried  one  a-gape. 
Shuddering  in  the  gleaming  light, 

"I  know  not,"  said  the  second  Shape, 
"I  only  died  last  night  !" 

_     At  this  moment  a  gust  of  wind  blew 
the  candle  out. 


FROCKS 


On  a  bright  spring  morning  Adam 
and  Eve  were  taking  a  stroll  through 
the  shady  bowers  of  the  Garden  of 
Eden. 

"My  dear,"  said  Adam,  continuing 
the  discussion  of  the  fashions  likely  to 
be  in  vogue  for  the  following  fall  sea- 
son, "what  system  of  dressmaking  do 
you  favor  ?" 

"Well,"  repHed  Eve,  thoughtfully, 
"they  all  have  their  merits,  but  the 
loose  leaf  system  is  good  enough  for 
me." 


The  Moose 
of  "Dear  Ting" 

Continued  from  page  184. 

as  Louis  gave  us  while  we  waited  for 
our  moose.  I  know  things — bear  with 
my  pride,  dear,  I  know  things  that  I 
couldn't  have  learned  as  perfectly 
anywhere  else  in  the  world.  Yes, 
they're  about  foxes  and  bears,  about 
birds  that  fly  and  fish  that  swim,  but 
they  are  beautiful  things,  subtle, 
wonderful  things. 

All  at  once  Louis  announced  that  he 
would  "mak'  de  call."  He  made  it, 
and  incidentally,  made  us  jump. 
"Wait,  he  t'row  it  back  at  me  pretty 
soon.  Ba  gosh,  dere's  t'under  for  you  ! 
He  is  mad  clear  t'rough.  Lis'en  ! 
Lis'en  !  Dere  he  go  again — dat's  fine 
or  bull." 


Wlijwonr 
ADoutYourilr 


cutlcura  SOQP 
SMmpoos 

And  occasional  use  of  Cuti- 
cura  Ointment  will  clear  the 
scalp  of  dandruff,  allayitching 
and  irritation,  and  promote 
hair-growing  conditions. 

Samples  Free  by  Mail 

Cutlcura  Soap  and  Ointment  sold  throuRbout  tbo 
world.  Liberal  sample  of  each  mailed  tree,  with  32-p. 
tKtok.    Address  "Cutlcura,"  Dept.  133,  Boston. 


Children 
Teething 

Meth«n  theuld  (ive  only  the  well-known 


Doctor  Stedman  s 
teething  powders 


MARK 


The  nuD7  million*  that  are  anntuUy  iwed 
eonatitute  the  beat  teatimonial  in  their  fa- 
vor, they  are  guaranteed  by  the  proprietor 
to  be  abaolutely  free  from  opium. 
See  the  Trade  Mark,  a  Oum  Lancet,  oo 
•▼ery  packet  and  powder.  Refuae  all 
not  ae  dlatinfuiahed. 

Saall  Packeta,  0  t>owderB 
Large  Packeta,  30  Powdara 

OFtLLOHIHIITS  MO  IMt  ITOKII. 

MUUFXTOIIV:  III  JIEW  IIOIITH  M«l,  lilMI.  IMUm. 


206 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

DUR  ABLE-Fire    grates   are  three-sided; 
last  three   times  as  long.     Shaped    in  the 

Sunshine 

)^  to  grind  up  clinkers 

JLCiriia.CC   when  "rocked".   See 
the  McClary  dealer  or  write  for  booklet.    32 


A  Father's  Soliloquy- 
No.  3. 

The  Family's  Future 

"They  are  enjoying  themselves  now,   and  I 

shall  see  to  it  that  they  shall  always  enjoy 

themselves. 

If  anything  should  happen — 

Nothing  material  can  happen:    My  policies  in 

The  London  Life  Insurance  Company  afford 

ample  protection. 

It  is  a  safe  and  economically-managed  Com- 
pany— one  of  the  most  reliable  financial  insti- 
tutions in  the  world." 
Invest  in  a  London  Life  Policy — you'll  never  regret  it. 
Send  for  our  literature  and  learn  for  yourself  just  why 
London  Life  Policies  are  worth  investigating. 

This  places  you  under  no  obligation — 
our  agent  will  call  on  appointment. 

The  London  Life 

Insurance  Company 


LONDON 


CANADA 


"Don't  you  know  de  grey  owl 
singin',  from  de  beeg  moose  w'en  he's 
ringin'  out  his  challenge  ?  "  quoted 
Peter  who  wasn't  half  excited  enough 
to  suit  me. 

"Keep  still,  he  soon  be  along."  We 
all  settled  back  among  the  leaves  and 
brush.  Soon,  I  grew  so  tired  I  couldn't 
help  fidgetting;  but  the  two  young- 
sters, Louis  and  Joan,  acted  as  if  they 
never  meant  to  move  again,  Peter, 
stretching  out  a  cramped  leg,  broke  a 
twig.  Louis  muttered  a  sacre  under 
his  breath.  The  silence  soaked  into 
us,  inoculated  us  until  we  wouldn't 
have  spoken  had  we  dared.  Then 
another  call,  a  crash  of  dead  timber, 
and  straight  toward  us  came  the  big 
moose.  Peter,  who  was  to  have  had 
first  chance  at  him,  sat  staring  stupidly. 
Seeing  that  he  did  not  mean  to  shoot,  ^ 
Louis  raised  his  rifle.  I  shut  my  eyes 
and  waited  the  report.  It  did  not 
come.  Instead  there  was  a  delighted 
scream  from  Joan.  "Oh,  see  the  ma 
moose,  and  the  little  moose  !  Don't 
hurt  them,  Louis.  Please  don't  kill 
any  but  the  big  one,  and  oh,  don't  kill 
him  either.    Please  Louis,  dear  Louis  !" 

Simultaneously  with  these  shrill 
clamorings  came  a  snort  of  mingled 
fear  and  defiance,  a  crash  of  boughs,  a 
sound  of  light  footed  headlong  flight — 
then  the  kind  of  stillness  you  can't 
stand. 

"See  w'at  you  do  now,  DearT'ing." 
Louis'  voice  is  heavy  with  reproach. 
"Me,  I  tak'  you  no  more  wit'  me  to 
mak'  de  hunt." 

"For  two  cents  I'd  spank  you," 
roared  her  father."  You  little  spoil 
sport  !" 

"Sho  1  It  mak'  no  matter,"  cried 
Louis  lightly.  "De  moose  he  get  away, 
but  nobody  is  hurt.  W'at  if  my 
bullet  fin'  Dear  T'ing  w'en  she  run  to 
me  so  queeck  I  can't  turn.  Gosh  ! 
My  heart  it  jomp  high  and  heavy  lak* 
bear  in  a  trap." 

"You'd  have  brought  him  down  all 
right,"  grumbled  Peter. 

"Sure  t'ing,"  he  bragged,  "but 
nobody  hurt,  an'  I  don't  geev  a  dam'. 
Boss — so  dere  !  Come,"  gathering 
Joan  in  his  free  arm  and  starting  back 
to  camp.  "Tell  me  w'at  you  t'ink  of 
Mrs.  Moose  and  de  calf.  Ain't  he  de 
sorxj'ful  hom'ly  t'ing  dat  calf,  eh  ? 
W'at  !  You  lak  him,  dat  calf  ?  Wall ! 
He's  nice  leetle  feller  if  you  say  so, 
b'gosh  !" 

This  ended  oifr  first  day's  hunt,  and 
though  we  brought  home  no  spoil  we 
wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  the  world. 
Peter  shot  a  deer  a  few  days  later,  and 
gave  a  recital  of  the  feat  every  time 
we  ate  venison. 

The  sun  has  gone  out  of  sight,  the 
glow  of  it  out  of  the  air.  The  warmth 
and  shine  of  the  campfire  are  grateful 
cozening  things.  I  wish  you  were 
here.     Louis  is  frying  prairie  chickens 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


207 


with  the  bacon,  and  the  aroma  is 
delicious.  We'll  eat  stale  bread  with 
the  chicken,  and  revel — revel  is  the 
word — in  a  dessert  of  cranberries  that 
leaves  your  mouth  puckered  in  a  knot, 
and  tea  strong  enough  to  bear  the 
proverbial  wedge.  And  we'll  sleep  like 
children  who  have  been  at  a  picnic, 
and  played  themselves  tired.  Good- 
night, sweet  Coz. 

Betty  Blue. 
P.  S. — Peter  has  never  forgiven  him- 
self for  being  too  scared  (he  calls  it 
surprised)  to  shoot  his  first  moose.' 
He  is  over  by  the  fire  cleaning  his  gun, 
and  by  the  grim  set  of  his  jaw  I  opine 
he  is  going  out  after  that  noble 
animal  without  fear  or  favor.  Mr. 
Moose  better  look  out — a  man  is 
terribly  in  earnest  when  seeking  to 
re-capture   his   self-esteem.        Betty. 


Kir  sty 
MacFarlanes  Cow 

Continued  from  page  186. 

whether  to  tell  ye  or  not.  I  don't 
know  whether  ye'll  be  caring  to  give 
me 

"  'Give  ye,'  he  says,  'I'll  give  it  ye, 
even  if  I  have  to  send  to  the  States  for 
it.' 

"  'Well,  Sandy,'  I  says,  'I  would  like' 
— and  I  wass  afraid  to  ask  him,  altho' 
I  did  hear  that  he  gave  his  brother 
Donald  a  big  diamond  pin  that  cost 
sefen  hundred  dollars,  just  to  stick  in 
hiss  tie,  and  diamond  ring  that  wass 
four  hundred  dollars,  to  hiss  brother 
Archie,  just  to  wear  on  hiss  little 
finger.  But  of  course,  they're  hiss 
brothers.  So  I  says,  'Sandy,  I'm 
afraid  ye  might  not  be  wanting — 

"  'Oh,  Aunt  Kirsty,'  says  he,  'Don't 
you  hear  me  sayin'  I'll  get  it  for  ye  no 
matter  what  it  costs  or  how  far  I  have 
to  send  for  it  ?' 

'  "So  I  says,  'Sandy,  I've  always 
wanted — would  ye  mind  buyin'  me,  for 
myself,  — would  ye  mind  getting  me 
just — just  a  bit  of  a  cow  ?'  " 

And  Sandy  had  given  commands 
that  "the  finest  in  the  land"  should  be 
obtained  for  Aunt  Kirsty.  Within  two 
weeks  there  came  by  special  car 
addressed  to  "Miss  Christena  Mac- 
Farlane,  care  of  Adam  Wilson,"  a  cow, 
"just  a  bit  of  a  cow"  for  it  was  a 
Jersey,  and  a  highly  pedigreed  one  at 
that.  It  had  cost  enough  money  to 
buy  a  stable  full  of  cows  such  as  then 
were  bred  around  Cedardale,  had  cost . 
in  fact  more  that  Donald's  diamond 
pin  or  anyl)ody  else's  jewelled  gifts,-- 
no  less  than  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars.  .'\dam  Wilson  put  the  trea- 
sure in  the  stable  and  sent  word  to 
Aunt  Kirsty.  Aunt  Kirsty  I'camc. 
looked  at  the  cow,  but  said  nothing 
Two  weeks  more  passed  slowly  by  and 


They  buy  it  for  what  it  does. 
That's  why  the  Ford  is  serv- 
ant of  more  than  530,000. 
It  holds  the  world's  record  for 
all  'round  dependability.  And 
it's  the  lightest — the  strong- 
est—the most  economical  car 
on  the  market.  And  don't 
forget  the  service. 

$600  for  the  runabout  ;  $660  for  the  touring  car 
and  $900  for  the  town  car — f.  o.  b.  Ford,  Ontario, 
complete  with  equipment.  Get  catalogue  and 
particulars  from  any  branch  or  from  Ford  Motor 
Co.,  Ltd.,  Ford,  Ontario. 


TO  KEEP 
JAMS  RIGHT 
SEAL  THEM 
TIGHT 


A  thin  coating  of  pure,  refined 

poured  over  the  tops  of  the  jars  will  keep  otit  mould 
and  fermentation  indefiniteiy.  It's  the  easiest  way 
and  the  safest  way. 

Put  up  in  hnndy  one  pound  cartons.    Four  cakes 
to  n  carton.    Your  grocer  keeps  Psrowax. 

THE   IMPERIAL   OIL   COMPANY,   Limited 


Toronto 
Ottawa 
Halifaa 


Winnipeg 

Vancouver 

CaUary 

Edmonton 

R«uina 

Saskatoon 

208 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


Why  Pay  More? 

Not  every  $1,500  car  has  a  wheel  base 
measuring  114  inches. 

The  $1,250  Overland  has. 

Not  every  $1,500  car  has  33  inch  x  4  inch 
tires. 

The  $1,250  Overland  has. 

Not  every  $1,500  car  has  a  full  thirty-five 
horse-power  motor. 

The  $1,250  Overland  has. 

Not  every  $1,500  car  has  a  three-quarter 
floating  rear  axle  fitted  with  Hyatt  bearings. 

The  $1,250  Overland  has. 

Not  every^  $1,600  car  has  a  complete 
electric  lighting  system  throughout. 

The  $1,250  Overland  has. 

Not  every  $1,500  car  has  the  most  up-to- 
date  and  very  best  equipment. 

The  $1,250  Overland  has. 

Not  every[$l  500  car  has  a  chassis  as  thor- 
oughly, as  carefully  and  as  accurately  manu- 
factiured  as  any  $5,000  chassis. 

The  $1,250  Overland  has. 

Not  every  $1,500  car  has  the  utmost  in 
convemenccB,  vomioi  t,  luxury  and  style. 
The  $1,250  Overland  has. 

And  these  are  but  a  few  of  the  many 
$1,600  features  found  in  the  famous  Overland. 

Why  pay  more  than  $1,260  when  the  ad- 
ditional expenditure  gets  you  no  more  car? 

Our  dealer  in  yoiu-  town  will  be  glad  to 
demonstrate  any  time. 

Write  for  catalogues  and  illustrated 
literature.     They're  free. 

Please  address  Defit.  3. 

The  Willys  Overland  of  Canada 
Limited 

Hamilton,  Ont. 

$1,250  Completely  equipped  $1,425  with 

electric  starter  and  generator 

Prices  f.  o.  b.,  Hamilton.  Ont. 

Distributors  of  the  famous  Overland  Delivery  Wagons, 
Garford  and  Willys  Utility  Trucks. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


209 


Wilson  waited  for  Aunt  Kirsty's 
instructions  as  to  the  disposal  of 
Sandy's  gift. 

"Iss  Mr.  JlfacWilson  in  ?"  was  the 
enquiry  which  floated  in  slow  and 
ponderous  tones  to  the  bank  manager's 
cars  one  morning  as  he  sat  in  his  office, 
wondering  whether  he  hadn't  better 
send  to  Aunt  Kirsty  and  ask  whether 
she  didn't  want  the  cow  driven  over 
to  a  pasture-field  somewhere  near  her 
cottage. 

"Mr.  MacWilson,"  queried  Kirsty, 
after  being  comfortably  seated  near 
the  manager's  desk,  "Mr.  MacWilson, 
do  I  haf  to  keep  Sandy's  cow  ?" 

"Why,  Miss  MacFarlane,"  began  the 
banker,  "  you  can  easily  pasture  the 
cow  in  Brown's  field  next  to  the  cot- 
tage, so  that  you  can  have  her  handy 
for  milking,  and  before  winter  time, 
I'm  sure,  Donald  and  Archie  will  build 

a  nice  little  place "  and  then  seeing 

that  he  was  on  the  wrong  track,  he 
stopped  to  ask  in  a  puzzled  tone, 
"V\Tiy,  Miss  MacFarlane — Aunt — 
Aunt  Kirsty,  what's  the  matter  ! 
Don't  you  want  to  keep  her  ?  Didn't 
you  want  a  cow  ?" 

"Oh,  yess !"  heartily  responded 
Aunt  Kirsty.  "But  Mr.  MacWilson, 
— it  isn't  just  the  kind  of  a  cow  I  wass 
wantin'." 

Adam  Wilson's  shrewdness  rescued 
him  from  his  previous  bewilderment 
and  he  smilingly  suggested  that  the 
matter  could  be  adjusted  to  Miss 
MacFarlane's  satisfaction.  With  the 
assistance  of  Sutherland,  he  was  able 
to  dispose  of  the  Jersey  to  advantage, 
buy  for  thirty  dollars  one  of  Brown's 
big  red  "moolleys,"  and  thus  give 
Aunt  Kirsty  not  only  the  "bit  of  a 
cow"  she  was  wanting,  but  also  place 
to  her  credit  a  very  nice  little  bank 
account. 


The  Eyes  of  the  La  w 

Continued  from  page  178. 
he'll  carry  your  mark  to  his  grave.    You 
made  an  awful  mess  of  his  face,  boy." 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  HoBart,  tell 
me  something  about  it,"  I  said  some- 
what peevishly. 

"There  isn't  anything  to  tell,  except 
that  part  of  the  story  leaked  out.  Calm 
yourself,  the  girl's  name  wasn't  men- 
tioned, but  the  papers  got  a  smattering 
of  Derwent  giving  a  dinner  and  saying 
something  uncomplimentary  about  a 
woman.  Enter  hero  Cragg,  biflF ! 
bang  !  !  smash  !  I !  You  know  what 
Paris  papers  are.  You're  more  of  an 
attraction  than  Mile.  Gabrielle  herself." 

"And  Ethel— Miss  Marston  ?" 

Hobart  shook  his  head.  "I  haven't 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  Helen; 
but  a  courier,  whom  I  have  been 
creditably  informed  is  hers,  knocks 
every  day  at  your  door  to  enquire 
about  monsieur.' 


High-Priced  Tires 

Since  Our  Reductions,  18  Makes 
Cost  You  More  Than  Goodyears 


The  facts  are  these: 

No-Rim-Cut  tires, 
because  of  costly  fea- 
tures, used  to  cost 
one-fifth  more  than 
other  standard  tires. 

Yet  they  excelled 
so  far  that  they  soon 
outsold  any  other  tire 
in  the  world,  as  the\ 
do  today. 


With  mammoth 
output  came  lower 
factory  cost.  Our 
overhead  cost  in  Can- 
ada was  also  mater- 
ially reduced.  New 
machinery,  new  effi- 
ciency, brought  costs 
down  and  down. 


Our  answer   is  this : 

Those  higher  prices 
can't  be  justified  in 
any  way  whatever. 

We  have  had  scores 
of  experts  working  to 
find  ways  to  better 
No-Rim-Cut  tires. 
And  they  all  agree 
that  these  tires  mark 
the  present-day  limit 
in  low  cost  per  mile. 


This,  uiJi  reduc- 
tion in  rubber  cost,  meant  a  drop 
in  Canada-made  All-Weather 
treads.  Prices  reached  a  point 
which  other  makers  of  good  tires 
do  not  care  to  reach. 

Now  18 
American 
and  Cana- 
dian anti- 
skid makes 
sell  higher 
than  Good- 


GooD/9year 

^^  ^^^        TORONTO 

NO-RIM-CUT  TIRES 
With  All-Weather  Treads  or  Smooth 


Then  No-Rim-Cut 
tires  have  four  costly 
features  found  in  no 
other  tire.  One  makes 
rim-cutting  impos- 
sible.    One   saves 
countless    blow-outs, 
and   it   adds   to   our 
manufacturing  cost 
immensely. 
One  lessens  by  60  per  cent,  the  dan- 
ger of  loo.se  treads.      And  one  is  our 
double-thick  All-Weather  tread. 

Mark  this.  Not  another  tire  at 
any  price  has  one  of  these  costly  fea- 
tures.   

I.  o  w  e  r 
prices  are 
easily  ex- 
()  I  a  i  n  e  d  . 
Higher  prices 
lack  a  single 
.shred  of 
basis,   save 


year  prices — some  almost  one- 
half  higher.  And  every  tire  user 
wants  to  know  what  justifies 
these  prices. 


smaller   out-put  or  a  larger  profit. 

Those  are  the  facts.  You  don't 
care  to  pay  for  chimerical  advantage, 
and  extra  price  buys  nothing  else. 


The  Goodyear  Tire  &  Rubber 
Company  of  Canada,  Limited 


Haad  Office,  TORONTO 


Faclory,  BOWMANVILLE 


210 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


ROUND 


WORI^D 

(^VER  the  Seven  Seas  to  the 
^^  four  corners  of  the  earth" 
The  "grand  trip,"  indescrib- 
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Mediterranean,  Egypt,  India, 
Ceylon,  Java,  Japan,  China, 
Philippines,  Hawaii,  etc.  In- 
dependent trips,  first  class 
throughout.  Start  any  time, 
any  place,  either  direction. 
The  price  is  the  same.  Tickets 
good  two  years. 
North  German  lloyd  Travelers  Checks 


Good  All  Over  the  World 


Write  for 
Booklet  "A" 


NORTH 
GERMAN 


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5  Broadway,  New  York 
H.  Claussenius  &  Co.,   CIiicaKO 
Robert  Capelle,     Sao  Francisco 
Central  National  Bank.  St.  Loai      W     V     ^^\^^^^ 
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Motfieraill's  Travel  Book 

telis  you  what  to  take  on  a  journey  and  wliat  not  to  take— bow  to 
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tion as  to  checking  facilities,  weights,  etciii  foreign  countries- 
gives  tables  of  money  values— distances  from  New  York — tells  when, 
who  and  how  much,  to  "tip."  In  fact  this  booklet  will  be  found  in- 
valuable to  all  wlio  travel  or  are  contemplating  taking  a  trip,  in  this 
country  or  abroid. 

Published  tiv  the  proprietors  of  the  famous  Mothersill's  Seasick 
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This  edition  is  limited  so  we  suggest  that  you  send  your  name  and 
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I^ci^^ 


TfSven 
Tla/med 


All  that  day,  and  the  next,  and  the 
next,  I  sat  in  my  chair  drawing  good 
omens  from  Ethel's  enquiries,  and 
chafing  bitterly  at  my  slow  progress. 
On  the  fourth  day  1  insisted  on  having 
my  mail.  Hobart  hesitdted  about 
giving  me  the  rather  formidably  big 
package,  but  I  fussed  over  it  at  such  a 
rate,  in  self  defence  he  gave  it  to  me; 
and  so  went  off  for  a  walk. 

Life  looked  a  good  deal  darker  to  me 
when  I  finished  those  letters  and  I 
glanced  at  myself  in  the  mirrorjand  was 
horrified  to  see  how  ghastly  I  had 
grown  during  my  confinement.  I  was 
making  a  desperate  effort  to  get  my 
things  together  preparatory  to  sailing 
on  the  first  boat  out,  when  Hobart 
returned.  There  was  a  couple  of 
hours  of  hurried  telephone  calls  to 
express  men,  looking  up  sailings  and 
so  on,  Hobart  in  the  meantime  cursing 
me  with  every  spare  breath  and  telling 
me  what  a  silly  fool  I  was  to  let  a 
small  matter  like  a  legal  document 
that  told  me  I  was  no  longer  the 
possessor  of  eighty  thousand  a  year  to 
stand  between  me  and  the  girl  I  loved. 
His  arguments  were  so  forceful  that  I 
finally  consented  to  call  and  thank  her 
for  her  inquiries  during  my  illness.  I 
turned  cold  at  the  thought  of  the 
interview,  for  now  that  things  were 
settled  and  there  was  no  longer  any 
hope  of  retaining  my  income,  it  was 
of  course  out  of  the  question  to  tell  her 
I  cared.  The  beastly  part  of  it  was  I 
cared  so  much  that  I  couldn't  trust 
myself  to  say  goodby  to  her  alone.  I 
prayed  for  the  sphinx  to  be  present. 

The  minute  I  entered  I  knew  I  was 
done  for.  Ethel's  face  was  radiant, 
and  her  greeting  of:  "Oh,  Sidney, 
why  did  you  do  it  for  me  ?"  took  my 
second  wind. 

Something  similar  to  what  happened 
at  Derwent's  dinner  must  have  occur- 
red, for  my  next  intelligent  moment 
was  hearing  Ethel  gasp,  "You  old  dear, 
and  I  loved  you  so  all  the  time."  It 
dawned  on  me  that  I,  Sidney  Cragg, 
minus  eighty  thousand  a  year  had  been 
holding  Ethel  very  tight  and, — well 
she  didn't  seem  to  mind. 

"You  don't  know  what  you  are 
doing,  Ethel,"  I  said  at  last,  "for  I 
haven't  anything  but  myself  to  offer 
you.  I  told  you  I  was  sailing  at'once. 
My  reason  is,  I  got  word  from  my 
lawyers  that  the  Martindale  woman 
has  beaten  me,  consequently  she  will 
enjoy  the  fortune  that  was  mine,  and 
that  I  had  hoped  to  make  yours." 

Ethel  drew  herself  out  of  my  arms 
and  with  a  tragic  little  half-frightened 
air,  said,  "Sidney,  I  am  that  Martin- 
dale  woman.  Won't  you  please  not 
let  that  troublesome  old  money  stand 
between  us,  and  forget  that  I  deceived 
you.  But  when  you  rescued  me  that 
day  in  Rome,  and  I  found  you  didn't 
dream  who  I  was,  well   I — I — I  just 


Away  with  the 
oil-soaked  mops! 

They  smear  and  stain 
everything  they  touch; 
take  all  the  finish  off  wax- 
ed floors,  and  are  forever 
needing  re-treatment. 

Far,  far  better  than  oil- 
soaked  mops  are 


( 


DRY  CnEB  DUSTLESS 


^ops  and  Dusters 


— the  mops  that  carinot  smear 
and  stain,  because  they  contain 
no  oiL  They  give  a  fine,  dry 
polish,  and  never  injure  the 
most  sensitive  surface. 

A  special  chemical  treatment 
gives  Tarbox  Mops  a  mere  sug- 
gestion of  dampness — just  suf- 
ficient to  collect  and  absorb 
the  dust.  They  never  need  re- 
treatment. 


Washing 
renews  their 
efficiency 


Tarbox 
Mops  can 
be  washed 
with  hot 
water  and 
soap. 

Their  chemical  efficiency  is 
thus  renewed,  and  the  mops 
are  as  good  as  new. 

There  are  Tarbox  Mops  and 
Dusters  for  every  cleaning 
need  at  25c  up  to  $2.00.  At 
Department,  Hardware,  Gro- 
cery and  General  Stores. 

Every  Mop  guaranteed  by  the 
Makers. 

TARBOX   BROTHERS 

Rear  274  Dundas  Street 
TORONTO     Phone  CoU,  3489 


let  you  call  me  Miss  Marston,  but  I 
supposed  Mr.  Hobart  told  you  who  I 
was,  because  when  you  were  so  ill,  and 
I  couldn't  stand  it  I  dragged  poor 
Auntie  over  to  your  rooms,  and  told 
him  all  about  it."  She  rushed  this  alt 
out  in  one  breath  like  a  penitent  child. 
"No,  dear,  Hobart  didn't  tell  me. 
Thank  Heaven  he  was  wise  enough 
to  leave  it  to  you.  But  I  shall  punish 
you  by  getting  rid  of  the  terrible  Mrs. 
Martindale  as  soon  as  I  can  persuade 
the  dear  old  sphinx-like  aunt  that  she 
needs  another  nephew." 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


211 


In  the  Wake  of  the 
Columns 

Continued  from  pmge  192. 

baby  to  bed,  and  gave  her  some  coffee. 

I  went  up  to  the  officers'  club  just 
after  sunset,  and  met  Poropulos  coming 
down. 

He  almost  passed  me,  for  he  was  in  a 
terrible  rage,  and  was  muttering  to 
himself  in  some  tongue  I  could  not 
understand. 

I  would  have  let  him  go,  but  he  saw 
me  and  stopped. 

"Oh,  here  you  are  !"  he  almost  spat 
the  words  in  his  anger.  "That  dog 
Lioski   ..."  ' 

He  was  about  to  say  something  but 
checked  himself.  I  think  it  was  about 
Lillian  that  he  intended  to  speak  at 
first,  but  he  changed  the  subject  to 
some  other  grievance  he  had.  "I  was 
brought  before,  the  magistrate  this 
morning  and  fined  £100  for  selling 
field-force  tobacco  .  .  .  My  club 
will  be  ruined — Lioski  informed  the 
police — by !" 

He  was  incoherent  in  his  passion. 
I  gather  that  he  had  been  engaged  in 
some  shady  business,  and  that  Lioski 
had  detected  him.  He  almost  danced 
before  me  in  the  rain. 

"Shylock  dies  to-night,"  he  said, 
and  waved  his  enemy  out  of  the  world 
with  one  sweep  of  his  hand.  "He  dies 
to-night — I  am  weary  of  him — for 
eighteen — nineteen  years  I  have  known 
him,  and  he's  dirt  right  through " 

He  went  on  without  another  word, 
and  I  stood  on  the  slope  of  the  hill 
watching  him  as  he  disappeared  in  the 
direction  of  the  town. 

I  dined  at  the  club,  and  went 
straight  back  to  the  house  where  I  had 
left  my  wife.  She  was  sleeping — but 
the  baby  was  dead.  Poor  little  mortal  1 
I  owed  it  no  grudge,  but  I  was  glad 
when  they  told  me. 

All  the  next  day  I  sat  by  her  bed 
listening  to  Lillian's  mutterings,  for 
she  was  very  ill.  I  suffered  all  the 
tortures  of  a  damned  soul,  sitting 
there,  for  she  spoke  of  Lioski — 
"Arthur"  she  called  him — prayed  to 
him  for  mercy — begged  for  another 
chance — told  him  she  loved  him   . 

I  was  late  for  dinner  at  the  club. 
There  was  a  noisy  crowd  there.  Young 
Harvey  of  my  own  regiment  had  had  too 
much  to  drink,  and  I  avoided  his  table. 

My  hand  shook  as  I  poured  out  a 
glass  of  wine,  and  somebody  remarked 
on  it. 

"Fever,  major  ?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

I  did  not  sec  Poropulos  until  the 
dinner  was  half  way  through.  Cur- 
iously enough,  I  If)okcd  at  the  clock  as 
he  came  in,  and  tlie  hands  pointed  to 
half  past  eight. 

The  Greek  was  steward  of  the  club, 


i*K<iarevLfriirf.j»  >x7»ar-ii'X?>v  mr:>i  v»s>  v-ox-i  v-'srx-c  k>s  aCivr* 


gggjjraLaggaaa 


''Have  you  a  little  'Fairy  in  your  home  f" 


Then  you  WAX  appreciate  and  value  all  the 
more  the  advantages  to  you  and  your  little 
"Fairy"  in 


It  is  so  pure  and  agreeable — made  of  the  finest  vegetable 
oils,  with  cleansing  constituents  that  are  mild  and  healthful. 

Fairy  Soap  serves  every  toilet  and  bath  purpose  of  every^ 
body  in  the  home,  from  baby  to  grandparents. 


The  white,  oval,  floatii 
Fairy    cake    fits     the 
hand,  and  wears  down 
to  the  thinnest  wafer 
— and  it  is  good 
soap   always. 


If  you   are   not   already 

among   the    hosts  who 

use  it  constantly,  get  a 

cake  and  try  it.  Good 

dealers  everywhere 

sell  Fairy  Soap. 


l!Hi-»J5::FAIRBANK.<9«?^'«il 

LIMITSO        MOMTRKAL 


and  was  serving  the  wine.  He  was 
calm,  impassive,  remarkably  serene, 
I  thought.  He  exchanged  jokes  with 
the  officers  who  were  grumbling  that 
they  had  had  to  wait  for  the  fulfillment 
of  their  orders. 

"It  was  ten  to  eight  when  I  ordered 
this,"  grumbled  one  man. 

Then,  suddenly,  Harvey,  who  had 
been  regarding  Poropulos  with  drunken 
gravity,  pointed  downward. 

"He's  changed  his  boots,"  he  said, 
and  chuckled. 


Poropulos  smiled  amiably,  and  went 
on  serving. 

','He's  changed  his  boots  !"  repeated 
Harvey,  concentrating  his  mind  upon 
trivialities  as  only  a  drunken  man  can. 

The  men  laughed. 

"Oh,  dry  up,  Harvey  !"  said  some- 
body. 

"He's  changed " 

He  got  no  further.  Through  the 
door  came  a  military  policeman, 
splashed  from  head  to  foot  with  mud 

"District  Commandant  here,  sir  .''I 


212 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Boys— Here's  an  Offer 

from  Matthewson,the 

World's   Greatest 

Baseball  Pitchet 

You  do  a  little  spare  time  work' 
for  Matthewson,  and  he  will  show 
you  in  return  how  to  pitch  pRFF 
his    Fade  -  Away    curve  ^^^jj^ 

Now,  boys,  is  the  chance  to  show 
what  you're  made  of .  Here's  Matthew-  other  Tx>ys  in  your  town  look  like 
son,  the  great  Christy  Matthewson,  monkey's  when  you're  pitching;  but 
who  is  the  idol  and  the  hero  of  baseball  you've  got  to  work  to  make  good, 
fans,  who  has  won  five  championships  you  never  can  be  a  good  base-ball 
for  the  New  York  Giants  by  his  superb  pitcher  if  you're  not  game,  and  if 
pitching— willing  to  show  you  all  the  you're  not  game  enough  to  sell  a  few 
inside  secrets  of  his  famous  "fade-  papers  and  collect  for  them  during 
away"  curve  and  coach  you  into  be-  spare  time  each  week  to  get  Matthew- 
commg  the  boy-wonder  pitcher  of  son'slcssonsinFitching.whyMatthew- 
your  town,  if  you  have  the  grit  and  son  doesn't  want  you. 
gameness  to  work  a  little  during  your  Kat  if  you're  a  "live  one."  'Matty  win 
spare  time. 

But  you've  got  to  snow  Matthewson 
that  your  blood  is  red.    "Matty"  is 

one  of  the  finest  fellows  alive  and  he'll    „„„,...,.  ^ 

JhOW  you  how  to  just  make  all  the    of  pocket  money  aJl  ttie  time. 

Here*ls  Maifhewson's  SPECIAL  FREE  OFFER 

Tolcarn  to  be  a  real  pitcher  takes  nerve  and  work.    Boys  with  "yellow  Btreaks"  in  them 
aren't  worth  Matthewson's  time.    If  you  want  to  be  one  of  hia  boys,  working  and  train- 
ing under  him,  you  have  got  to  show  him  your  gameness  right  from  the  start. 
When  you  sign  and  mail  the  coupon,  yoo  will  receive     away"  twist  on  it.    You  m 
[atthewson's  first  lesson— FREE.     You  will  also  be     work  every  day  at  it  until  yoU 


Bent  a  package  of  Saturday  Blades  and  Chicago 
Ledgers.  You  are  to  deliver  the  Blades  and  Ledgers 
to  the  regular  customers  and  collect  the  money  for 
them.  It  is  on  the  way  you  make  good  withthe 
papers  sent  you  that  depends  your  future  with  the 
baaeball  lessons.  Make  good,  boy,  and  you  11  never 
rvgret  it.    Show  Matthewson  that  you're _a  true  blue 


take  you  into  his  confidence,  explain  his 
Bccrets  of  Btrikini?  out  batters  to  you,  and 
show  yoa  everything  plain  as  A-B-C  so 
the  other  boys  siaiply  can't  have  a  chance 
against  you,  and  in  addition  you  have  plenty 


FREE 


can  fool  every  boy  in  your  town. 
Matthewson  will  show  you  how 
to  do  it,  but  you  must  nave  the 
ambition  and  industry  to  prac- 
tice it.  Now.  do  you  want  to  be 
one  of  Matthewson's  boys?  Only 

one  boy  in  a  town  can  be  it.  Are       .    -  _• 

yoo  ambitious  to  know  the  professional's  metnoo  of 
pitching?  Do  you  really  want  to  master  Matthewsoa** 
wonderful  "fade-away"  curve?  Then  make  up  yoor 
mind  to  get  rid  of  every  speck  of  laziness  and  start  to 
work  for  the  great  Matthewson  and  learn  from  him. 

This  Personal  Instruction  from 


^oy  who  is  deserving  of  his  teaching.  You  can  be 
Jkie  champion  boy  pitcher  of  your  town.  Just  practice 
what  Matthewson  tells  you.     ,    „    ^        ^       . 

Learn  just  how  to  grip  the  ball,  how  to  place  your 
feet,  how  to  swing  your  arm,  how  to  put  the'  fade- 


Matty  is  an  Honor  for  Any  Boy 

It's  an  honor  few  boys  can  attain— to  get  personal 
Instruction  from  a  pitcher  like  Matthewson  —  the  great- 
■et  pitcher  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Only  one  boy  in  a 
town  may  have  it— write  today.  Send  no  money— simply 
Blirn  and  mail  the  coupon.  The  first  great  lesson  by 
Mitthewson  on  how  to  throw  the  •  facTe-away  curve 
win  come  by  return  mail.  Go  right  to  it -make  good 
Don't  be  an  idltr.  Come  along  boy,  and  get  in  With 
Matthewsoo.       SEND    THE    COUPON. 


SEND  ME  MATTHEWSON'S 
LESSON  FREE. 

Count  mo  In  ns  one  of  Matthewson'*  boys  wh« 
wanta  to  know  how  to  throw  hia  t^moum  curve*. 
Send  »lonit  tha  Blades  »nd  Ledsers  and  I  wiU  ff"" 
them  »nd  collect  the  11 


Mail  to  W-  D.  Bovce  Co.,  Dept.         Chicag* 


Stay  At  New  York's  $5,000,000  Hotel 

Right  in  the  hub  of  the  shopping,  theatre  and  business  districts. 
Six  hundred  rooms,  four  hundred  baths,  three  restaurants.  Everything 
that  the  most  exacting  guest  could  demand  in  comfort,  convenience  and 
attention  will  be  found  at  the 

HOTEL  MARTINIQUE 

BROADWA.Y  AND|32ND  STREET 

CHARLES  LEIGH  TAYLOR,  President  WALTER  S.  GILSON,  Vice-President 

WALTER  CHANDLER,  JR.,  Manager 

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the  most  moderate  prices.  Two  special  features  are  the  $1.50  table 
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SELLS  LIMITED 

SHAUGHNESSY  BUILDING.  MONTREAL 


he  demanded.     "There's  been  a  ntan 
murdered." 

"Soldier  ?"  asked  a  dozen  voices. 

"No,  sir — storekeeper,  name  of 
Lioski — shot  dead  half  an  hour  ago." 

I  do  not  propose  to  tell  in  detail  all 
that  happened  following  that. 

Two  smart  C.  I.  D.  men  came  down 
from  Johannesburg,  made  a  few 
inquiries,  and  arrested  Poropulos. 

He  was  expecting  the  arrest,  and 
half  an  hour  before  the  officers  came 
he  asked  me  to  go  to  him. 

I  spent  a  quarter  of  an  hour  with 
him,  and  what  we  said  is  no  man's 
business  but  ours.  He  told  me  some- 
thing that  startled  me — he  loved 
Lillian,  too.  I  had  never  guessed  it, 
but  I  did  not  doubt  him.  But  it  was 
finally  for  Lillian's  sake  that  he  made 
me  swear  an  oath  so  dreadful  that  I 
cannot  bring  myself  to  write  it  down — 
an  oath  so  unwholesome,  and  so 
against  the  grain  of  a  man  that  life  after 
it  could  only  be  a  matter  of  sickness 
and  shame.  / 

Then  the  police  came  and  took  him 
away. 

Lioski  had  been  shot  dead  in  the 
store  by  some  person  who  had  walked 
in  when  the  store  was  empty,  at  a 
time  when  there  was  nobody  in  the 
street.  This  person  had  shot  the  Jew 
dead  and  walked  out  again.  The 
police  theory  was  that  Poropulos  had 
gone  straigiit  from  the  club,  in  the 
very  middle  of  dinner,  had  committed 
the  murder,  and  returned  to  continue 
his  serving,  and  the  cro'wning  evidence 
was  the  discovery  that  he  had  changed 
his  boots  between  7.30  and  8.30.  The 
mud-stained  boots  were  found  in  a 
cellar,  and  the  chain  of  e'vidence  was 
completed  by  the  statement  of  a 
trooper  who  had  seen  the  Greek  walk 
ing  from  the  direction  of  the  store, 
8.10,  with  a  revolver  in  his  hand. 

Poropulos  was  cheerful  to  the  last. 

Cheerful  through  the  trial,  and 
through  the  dark  days  of  waiting  in 
the  fort  at  Johannesburg.  I  was  with 
him  on  the  morning  of  the  execu- 
tion. 

"I  confess  nothing,"  he  said  to  the 
Greek  priest.  He  was  smoking  a  last 
cigarette.  "I  hated  Lioski,  and  I  am 
glad  he  is  dead,  that  is  all.  It  is  true 
that  I  went  down  to  kill  him,  but  I  was 
too  late." 

When  they  had  pinioned  him  he 
turned  to  me. 

"I  have  left  my  money  to  you,"  he 
said.  "There  is  about  four  thousand 
pounds.    You  will  look  after  her." 

"That  is  the  only  reason  I  am  alive," 
I  said. 

"Did  you  murder  Arthur  Lioski  ?" 
said  the  priest  again. 

"No,"  said  Poropulos,  and  smiled  as 
he  went  to  his  death. 

And  what  he  said  was  true,  as  I 
know.    I  shot  Lioski. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


213 


Practical  Idealists 

Continued  from  page  169. 

that  it  does  not  yet  know  how  to  live 
in  a  city,  and  in  many  of  our  metro- 
polises, the  mistakes  of  the  older  cities 
are  being  repeated.  This,  as  has  been 
shown  already,  is  unnecessary,  and  it 
will  be  the  \vork  of  the  League  to  collect 
all  the  information  possible  on  this 
subject,  and  to  disseminate  it  through 
the  newspapers,  in  bulletins,  and  by 
sending  out  speakers  and  experts  to 
give  definite  advice  and  practical  help. 

Another  branch  of  work  that  the 
League  will  take  up  in  the  shortest 
possible  order  is  the  training  of  speakers 
and  social  workers.  Across  the  border, 
in  the  L'nited  States,  there  are  many 
schools  of  social  service.  In  our  own 
country,  there  is  none.  The  univer- 
sities have  made  no  attempt  to  fill  this 
need.  At  the  present  writing  there 
is  not  a  chair  of  sociology  in  any  Can- 
adian university,  while  every  univer- 
sity of  any  standing  in  the  United 
States  has  one.  So  far,  the  Canadian 
demand  for  trained  social  workers  has 
been  filled  entirely  from  outside,  and 
chieffy  from  the  United  States.  In 
Winnipeg,  the  playground  experts,  the 
associated  charities  workers  and  most 
of  the  settlement  workers  were  trained 
in  the  United  States. 

Not  long  since,  ihe  city  of  Toronto 
was  looking  for  a  woman  to  take  a 
resp<.)nsible  position  as  investigator 
under  a  civic  department.  They 
could  not  get  one.  Nowhere  in  Can- 
ada was  a  qualified  worker  found. 
Nor  could  they  get  one  in  the  United 
States.  The  capable  workers  were 
needed  at  home.  So  fast  has  the  pro- 
fession of  social  service  grown,  and  so 
fast,  too,  has  the  demand  for  social 
service  workers  increased,  that  it  is 
now  ranked  with  the  three  great  pro- 
fessions of  medicine,  theology  and  law. 

Where  the  intelligent  and  high- 
minded  young  man  af  18.50  studied  for 
the  pulpit,  the  bar,  or  the  medical 
profession,  he  now  is  likely  to  go  into 
social  service,  where  he  can  use  all  he 
knows  of  any  of  the  three  traditional 
professional  branches  to  excellent  ad- 
vantage. And  beside  him  works  the 
intelligent  and  high-minded  young 
woman  who  in  1850  had  to  limit  her 
activities  to  mending  her  theologue 
brother's  socks  and  knitting  him  worst- 
ed comforters.  The  woman  settle- 
ment worker,  the  woman  lawyer,  the 
woman  judge,  the  woman  constable, 
the  woman  gymnasium  director,  the 
woman  visiting  nurse,  the  woman  play- 
ground director — all  of  these  have  come 
to  stay.  In  Nova  Scotia,  several 
cities  have  l)een  kntking  for  community 
secretaries,  but  have  failed  to  find 
suitable  jjcople  with  the  necessary 
training.  S<x:ial  engineers  are  in 
demand    everywheri'.    but    sf)    fnr    wo 


ATLANTIC 
ROYALS 


NEXT  SAILINGS 

From  MONTREAL  and  QUEBEC 

Steamer. 
Tues.,  June  30,  1914 
Tues.,  July  14, 


From  BRISTOL. 


Tues.,  July  28, 
Tues.,  Aug.  11, 
Tues.,  Aug.  25, 
Tues,,  Sept.  8, 
Tues..  Sept.  22, 
Tues.,  Oct.     0, 


ROYAL  GEORGE   Wed.,  July  15,  1914 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  July  29, 

ROYAL  GEORGE   Wed.,  Aug.  12, 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  Aug.  26, 

ROYAL  GEORGE    Wed.,  Sept.   9, 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  Sept.  23, 

ROYAL  GEORGE   Wed.,  Oct.     7, 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  Oct.  21, 


Before  Booking  by  another  Line 

GET  AT  THESE  FACTS- 
SAFETY  ?         ACCOMMODATION  ? 
SERVICE?       ^ICUISINE? 

Our  Representative  will  be  glad  to  discuss  them 
personally  or  by  letter  addressed  to 

52  King  Street,  East,  Toronto,  Ont. 

593  Main  Street,  Winnipeg,  Man. 

228  St.  James  Street,  Montreal,  Que. 

123  HoIUs  Street,  Halifax,  N.  S. 

CANADIAN  NORTHERN  STEAMSHIPS,  Limited 


214 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Poinf-i-Pic,  Murray  Biy.  P  Q.. 


A  charming  summer  cruise  through  'a  land  of 
indescribable  beauty.  A  trip  that  embodies  a 
score  of  picturesque  features  of  world-wide 
interest. 

'T'HAT     mighty    cataract,     Niagara     Falls  — 
J-   Toronto  and  its  beautiful  ravines — Thousand 
Islands,  the  garden  spot  of  the  North — the  thril- 
ling passage  down  the  Rapids  of  the  St.   Law- 
rence— Montreal,   the  Metropolis  of  Canada 
— Quebec,  the  ancient  walled  capital — ^Murray 
Bay,  Canada's  most  exclusive  summer  resort 
— Tadousac,  the  first  French  settlement — the 
Saguenay  River  Canyon,  with  its  lofty  cliffs, 
beautiful  bays  and  quaint  French  villages — 
Capes  Trinity   and    Eternity,    those    huge 
masses  of  solid  rock  towering  1800  feet  from 
the  water's  edge. 

A  veritable  fairyland  of  startling  beauty 
and  grandeur. 


or 


For  particulars  app  ly  to  any  ticket  office  or  tourist  agency 
send  6  cents  postage  for  illustrated  guide.     Address 

Passenger  Department, 

Canada  Steamship  Lines,  Limited 

9  Victoria  Square,  Montreal. 


HOTEL  GRISWOLD 

POSTAL  HOTEL  COIviPANY,  Proprietors 

Griswold  Street  and  Grand  River  Are. 

EUROPEAN  PLAN 

Rates  -  $1.50  per  day  and  up. 

DETROIT      -      MICH. 


FRED  POSTAL, 

ftttUmt. 


CHAS.  L.  POSTAL, 

Stcrtlmy. 


have  had   no  way  to  give  our  young 
people  the  necessary  training. 

It  is  not  the  intention  of  the  Can- 
adian Welfare  League  to  organize 
branches  all  over  Canada.  It  is  the 
belief  of  Mr.  Woodsworth  and  those 
associated  with  him  that  there  exists 
already  plenty  of  "machinery."  What 
it  needs  is  the  data  on  which  to  work. 
It  will  be  the  business  of  the  League 
to  supply  the  data.  The  social  con- 
science is  awakening  in  every  district. 
People  are  beginning  to  realize  that, 
with  changed  conditions,  methods  of 
work  must  change,  but  they  do  not 
know  what  to  do.  They  find  them- 
selves surrounded  by  great  barriers 
built  up  by  past  ages,  and  they  realize 
that  such  barriers  must  go,  before  the 
melting  process  can  begin. 

The  chief  of  these  barriers  are  those 
of  race,  religion  and  language.  They 
are  barriers  of  no  mean  land.  For 
example,  in  all  the  years  of  Canada's 
existence  as  an  undivided  nation,  the 
barrier  between  the  English  and  French 
has  not  been  broken  down. 

An  English-speaking  Canadian  said 
to  a  French  Canadian  not  long  since, 
"I  can  take  you  to  whole  villages  in 
Manitoba  where  the  children  cannot 
speak  English." 

The  French  Canadian  retorted,  just 
as  fairly,  "I  can  take  you  to  whole 
villages  in  Quebec  where  the  children 
cannot  speak  French." 

Stiff  and  indomitable,  the  barrier 
still  stands. 

On  top  of  that,  there  are  being  sent 
into  the  country  hundreds  and  thous- 
ands of  immigrants,  separated  both 
from  the  English  and  from  the  French 
by  the  same  barriers  of  race,  language, 
religion,  divided  into  little  groups  from 
each  other  by  the  same  barriers,  and 
too  often  by  the  added  barriers  of  old 
hatreds  that  should  be  forgotten  in 
a  new  land. 

Although  we  urge  these  immigrants 
to  come,  our  duty  does  not  end  there. 
We  cannot  leave  newly-arrived  Ruthe- 
nian  villagers  in  their  isolated  settle- 
ments for  three  years  without  a  news- 
paper or  a  school  and  then  expect  them 
to  decide  important  questions  of  do- 
mestic or  foreign  policy.  We  cannot 
let  them  organize  school  districts  when 
they  are  ignorant  of  our  language  and 
our  laws.  Yet  we  do  ;  and  then  won- 
der why  the  experiment  fails. 

This  immense  burden  imposed  on 
Canada  has  been  a  little  too  much  for 
her.  She  is  big  enough,  and  rich 
enough,  and  fine  enough  to  produce 
and  foster  one  of  the  world's  finest 
races.  But,  like  all  mothers  who  have 
so  many  children  they  don't  know  what 
to  do,  she  is  at  present  kept  busy  look- 
ing after  their  material  needs  and 
hasn't  time  to  get  particularly  acquaint- 
ed with  her  various  progeny,  or  to 
learn  their  special  needs  and  difficulties. 


g.^/sgyA^a!^/'£fe.^>;^^?>^>^C5^>.,(yl^vF^i<^iS;sr:^^ 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


215 


STEEL 


ELECIRIC 
LIGHTED 


WINNIPEG  TO 

ST.  PAUL 
MINNEAPOLIS 


TRAINS 


ST.  PAUL 
MINNEAPOLIS 

CHICAGO 
MILWAUKEE 
DULUTH 
SUPERIOR 


.TAKE 
THE 


EASY  WAY  SOUTH 

il>yflp  SAFETY  AND  COURTESY 

J.  C.  PETERSON.  General  Agent.  h.  P.  WENTE.  District  Passenger  Agent 

J.  E.  DOUGHERTT,  Travetting  Agent,  222  B.iinatyne  Ave.,  WINNIPEG,  MAN. 

W.  R.  SHELDON,  D.P.  and  P.A.,  208  Eighth  Ave.,  West,  cileary,  Alta  •    T    H    MnnrinrH 
Trav.  Ft.  and  Pas.  Agt.,  Agency  Bldg.,  Edmonton.  Aita.;   H.  tTuTfy,  f.A.rMoo.^  J^wf  SmI' 


E 


i 
'i 

c 


216 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


OVER  THE  ROOF  OF  NORTH  AMERICA  via  the 

CANADIAN  PACIFIC 

The  CANADIAN  ROCKIES 

Five  Hundred  Miles  of  unparalleled  scenery.        Two  Thousand  peaks  to  climb. 
Ponies  and  Guides  for  the  Mountain  trails.  Excellent  Hotels. 

Golf,  Tennis,  Swimming,  Fishing  and  other  forms  of  outdoor  sport 
amid  surroundings  unequalled. 

BANFF  LAKE  LOUISE  FIELD 

GLACIER  BALFOUR 

Are  resorts  nestling  amongst  the  glittering  snow  capped  peaks  where  the  Canadian 
Pacific  operate  luxurious  hotels,  conveniently  located  in  the  heart  of  the  most 
picturesque  regions. 

Get  "Resorts  in  the  Canadian  Rockies"  from  any  Canadian  Pacific  Agent 
and  know  "What  to  do"  and  "What  to  see"  at  these  idyllic  spots. 

C.  E.  E.  USSHER,  Passenger  Traffic  Manager,  Canadian  Pacific  Railway, 

MONTREAL,  QUE. 


HOTEL     LENOX 

North  St.  at  Delaware  Ave., 

BUFFALO,    N.  Y. 

Most  beautiful  location  for  a  city  hotel  in 
America.  Away  from  the  dust  and  noise. 
Modern  and  fireproof. 

EUROPEAN     PLAN. 

Write  for  rates,  also  complimentary  "Guide 
of  Buffalo  and  Niagara  Falls." 

C.  A.  MINER,  Manager. 


It  will  be  the  business  of  the  League 
to  find  out  the  needs  and  difficulties 
of  the  various  peoples  who  make  up 
Canada  to-day,  and  to  awaken  in  all 
Canadians  that  social  conscience  which 
will  make  them  helpers  in  the  solution 
of  our  common  social  problems. 

For  example:  Mr.  W<K>dsworth 
was  asked  to  address  a  young  people's 
society  in  connection  with  a  church 
in  a  small  Saskatchewan  town.  His 
subject  was  "The  Foreign  Problem." 
In  that  town  there  was  quite  a  large 
foreign  section,  and  the  young  people 
wished  to  help  the  melting  process. 
However,  the  closest  they  had  got  to 
it  was  to  set  apart  one  night  a  year  for 
the  study  of  it,  and  to  ask  a  man  from 
Winnipeg  to  tell  them  alx)ut  the 
foreigners. 

Mr.  Woodsworth  advised  them  to 
call  a  meeting  and  invite  the  foreigners 
to  come  and  discuss  the  matter  with 
them. 

They  did  so,  and  to  their  astonish- 
ment they  found  that  the  more  intelli- 
gent of  the  foreigners  were  just  as 
anxious  as  they  were  themselves  to 
work  for  a  united  Canada,  aiming  at 
the  ideal  that  had  lured  them  from  the 
homeland — an  ideal  of  freedom  and 
good  fellowship  for  which  their  fathers 
had  given  their  lives  in  vain — an  ideal 
they  had  dreamed  might  await  them 
in  Canada. 

The  first  thing  the  foreigners  in  that 
particular  town  wanted  was  a  night 
school,  that  they  might  learn  to  read 
and  write  English,  and  consequently 
take  an  intelligent  part  in  the  life  of 
their  adopted  country.  Night  schools 
were  opened  at  once.  The  first  break 
had  been  made  in  the  line  of  cleavage, 
and  the  melting  process  had  begun. 

This  is  only  one  of  hundreds  of  cases 
of  social  work  that  is  being  done  under 
intelligent  direction  and  inspiration. 
It  is  only  the  beginning  of  a  wider  out- 
look on  life  which  will  eventually  break 
down  the  petty  barriers  of  creed,  caste, 
race,  speech  and  politics — those  bar- 
riers that  have  so  successfully  prevented 
the  free  development  of  the  race,  and 
realization  of  the  brotherhood  of  man. 

To  unite  Canadians  of  whatever 
race,  creed  or  party,  to  organize  them 
into  helpers  and  promoters  of  the 
general  welfare,  to  stimulate  work  along 
community  lines — these  are  the  objects 
of  the  Canadian  Welfare  League.  It 
stands  for  no  special  cause  or  reform. 
It  does  not  seek  establishment  of  local 
branches.  Through  its  central  office 
at  Winnipeg  it  merely  stands  ready  to 
assist  any  individual  or  group  of  indi- 
viduals seeking  to  promote  the  general 
welfare.  Ideally,  perhaps,  this  func- 
tion could  best  be  performed  by  a 
government  department,  but  under 
present  conditions  it  can  be  done  most 
effectively  by  an  unofficial  agency. 

Its  location  at  Winnipeg  has  been 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


217 


chosen  at  the  most  central  point  for  a 
Dominion  organization.  In  order  to 
facilitate  the  transaction  of  business, 
the  president,  secretary  and  treasurer 
are  all  residents  of  that  city,  and  it  was 
decided  that  these  officers,  with  the 
members  of  the  council  living  in  Winni- 
peg, should  constitute  the  executiv^e. 
The  officers  are:  Dr.  J.  Halpenny,  Win- 
nipeg; A.  Chevalier,  Montreal;  A.  T. 
Cashing,  Edmonton;  J.  H.  Brock,  Win- 
nipeg, and  J.  S.  Woodsworth,  the 
secretary.  Mr.  Woodsworth  is  devot- 
ing his  whole  time  to  the  work  of  the 
League,  and  is  its  only  paid  officer. 
With  the  aid  of  a  stenographer  working 
on  part-time,  he  has  already  succeeded 
in  compiling  a  large  amount  of  informa- 
tion on  municipal  problems  and  their 
solutions;  and  his  correspondence  is 
beginning  to  bulk  large.  Requests  for 
information  on  various  social  topics 
are  constantly  being  received  from 
social  workers  all  over  Canada,  and 
from  [Xiople  engaged  in  every  kind  of 
endeavor.  Members  of  parliament, 
aldermen,  town-planning  commissions, 
playground  workers,  trustees  of  tech- 
nical schools,  people  interested  in  con- 
solidated schools,  town-planning  and 
improved-housing  committees,- — all  of 
them  come  to  the  League  for  informa- 
tion, inspiration  and  help.  Already 
the  League's  value  to  Canada  is  proving 
itself.  Mr.  WfKxlsworth  has  acted  as 
personal  adviser  to  various  young  west- 
ern cities,  anxious  to  "start  right,"  and 
has  done  missionary  work  in  the  east 
among  city  fathers  and  among  uni- 
versity students,  many  of  whom  are 
using  as  a  text  his  book,  "Strangers 
Within  Our  Gates." 

What  the  Canadian  Welfare  League 
will  be  in  the  future,  is  dependent  on 
the  suppt^rt  of  Canadian  citizens.  It 
starts  in  life  without  any  endowment 
or  large  financial  backing,  and  as  the 
secretary  says,  "without  any  strings  !" 
It  relies  on  the  voluntary  support  of 
public  spirited  citizens  whose  social 
conscience  is  awake  to  the  need  of  a 
united  Canada,  and  the  necessity  of 
developing  each  unit  to  its  fullest 
advantage. 

The  problems  of  child  welfare,  care 
of  immigrants,  public  health,  housing, 
playgrounds,  city  planning,  philan- 
thropic institutions,  industrial  organi- 
zations, social  settlements,  rural  c|ues- 
tions,  and  the  like,  are  now  recognized 
as  nf)t  being  individual  jiersonal  prob- 
lems, but  the  problems  of  communities. 
To-morrow,  they  will  be  recognized 
as  the  problems  of  all  Canada. 

Idealism— yes.  Of  that  much- 
abused  and  hitherto  impractical  word, 
they  make  a  banner,  flinging  it  proudly 
abroad.  Practical  idealists,  with  the 
accent  on  the  practical,  remember, — 
they  have  set  out  to  prove  that  they 
can  make  idealism  pay.  The  result  is 
going  to  l)c  worth  watching. 


A  Thoroughly  Universal  Vacation 
Territory 

Highlands  of  Ontario 


Including  Muskoka  Lakes,  Lake  of  Bays,  Algonquin  Provincial 
Park,  Temagami,  Georgian  Bay,  Etc. 


Nomlnlgan  Camp — Algonquin   Park 


IS  lb    Salnrton  Trout  Caught 
In   Lake  of   Bays 


A  Vista  In  Muskoka  Lake    District. 

Spend  Your  Summer  Holidays 

In  One  of  These  Delightful 

Territories 

Reached  in  Palatial  Trains  over  the 
GRAND  TRUNK  RAILWAY  SYSTEM 

Ideal  Canoe  Trips 

Good    Hotel    Accommodation 

Splendid  Fishing 

I'iiicst  .SummiT  playgrounds  in  Aiiiorica.  Thi; 
lover  of  outdoors  will  find  here  in  abundance  all  things 
which  make  roughint;  it  desirable.  Select  the  locality 
that  will  afford  you  the  greatest  amount  of  enjoyment, 
and  send  for  free  folders,  beautifully  illustrated,  dcsrib- 
ing  these  out-of-the-ordinary  resorts.  .Ml  this  recrea- 
tion paradise  easy  of  access. 

Addreis  C.  E.  HORNING,  Union  Station,  Toronto,  J.  QUINLAN, 
Bonaventure  Station,  Montreal,  or  any  Agent  of  the  Company. 


G.  T.  BELL, 

Passenger  Traffic  Manager, 

MONTREAL 


H.  G.  ELLIOTT, 

General  Passenger  Agent, 

MONTREAL 


218 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Oi 


I 
I 

Q 


I 
I 


I 
Q 


I 
I 
Q 
I 
I 


11 
Q 
Q 
I 
Q 
I 


Take  the  Water  Way  to  Winnipeg  | 
and  Beyond  I 


(GREAT  LAKES  ROUTE) 
VIA 


Sarnia         Port  Arthur 


Duluth 


I 
I 
I 
El 
Q 
I 
I 
Q 
[O 
Q 
Gl 


Canadian  Northern  Wharf  Terminals,   Port  Arthur. 

It  costs  no  more  to  travel  via  Duluth,  and  the  Lake  Trip  is  one 
day  longer.  Almost  a  full  day's  stop-over  at  Port  Arthur  and 
Fort  William. 

Convenient  trains  with  electric-lighted  sleeping  cars  from  Port 
Arthur  and  Duluth  leave  in  the  evening  and  arrive  Winnipeg  in  the 
morning,  thus  allowing  the  entire  day  for  recreation  or  other  purposes. 

Travel  from  Duluth  to  Winnipeg  through  the  Dawson  Trail, 
the  Quetico  Forest  Reserve  and  the  Rainy  Lake  District. 

Finely  Appointed  Dining  Cars  on  All  Trains 

When  in  Port  Arthur,  stop  at  the  Prince  Arthur  Hotel.  This 
and  the  Prince  Edward  Hotel  at  Brandon,  in  furnishings,  appoint- 
ment and  service,  are  in  a  class  by  themselves  in  the  West. 

For  interesting  illustrated  publications  on   Canada,  write 


R.  CREELMAN, 

General  Passenger  Agent, 

WINNIPEG,  MAN. 


R.  L.  FAIRBAIRN, 

General  Passenger  Agent, 

TORONTO,  ONT 


Northern   Navigation    Company  i 


Q 


All  the  principal  towns  and  cities  in  Manitoba,  Saskatchewan  and     19 

Alberta  are  served  by  the  I 

0 

Canadian  Northern  Railway  J 


I 
I 

Q 
19 
Q 
Q 
I 
II 
01 


I 
I 
I 
I 
I 


19 
I 
I 
I 
Q 


Seth  Snow's  First 
Sermon 

Continued  from  page  172. 

then,-  but  she  had  a  white  dress  all 
trimmed  with  scallops,  and  a  blue  sash 
and  a  hat  with  a  wreath  and  a  blue 
ribbon  bow,  and  she  danced  along 
ahead  of  us  like  a  white  butterfly. 
She's  got  such  a  pretty  quiet  way  with 
her  now  that  you  wouldn't  believe  she 
was  such  a  little  fly-away  when  she  was 
a  baby.  But  she's  got  the  fly-away 
in  her  now,  under  all  her  ladylike  ways. 
Daisy  never  was  a  milk-and-water 
girl,  and  she  never  will  be." 

"I  can't  imagine  her  as  ever  being 
nervous  or  unduly  excited  over  any- 
thing," remarked  Lee  Weston,  with 
alertness. 

"I  can,"  said  Dyce.  "Still  waters 
run  deep." 

Weston  looked  thoughtful.  A  most 
unmatch-making  father  had  effected 
more  than  a  match-making  mother. 
Weston  had  visions  of  the  girl  in 
question  being  troubled  in  her  sweet 
soul,  and  his  own  echoed  back  that 
imaginary  trouble. 

Dyce  continued.  "The  road  was 
full  of  folks  going  to  meeting  that  day," 
said  he.  "Oh,  I  forgot  to  say  that  the 
Presbyterians  in  South  Atway  had 
thrown  in  their  church  bell,  because 
it  had  a  little  crack,  and  they  were 
going  to  buy  a  chime  anyway.  So 
Seth's  bell  was  ringing  for  fair. 

"  'Just  think,'  says  Arabella,  as  we 
walked  behind  that  dancing  little  girl, 
'what  would  all  the  Snows  that  have 
gone  before  say  if  they  could  hear  that 
bell  ringing  and  could  know  their 
house   was   a    meetinghouse.' 

"  'I  know  just  what  they  would  have 
said,'  I  told  her.  'First  they  would 
have  asked  if  Seth  had  got  the  pews 
and  things  at  a  bargain,  then  they 
would  have  said — for  the  Snows  were 
all  mighty  good  people — that  they 
were  proud  and  sort  of  overcome  to 
think  that  their  house  that  they'd  been 
born  and  married  and  lived  and  died 
in  had  been  turned  into  a  meeting- 
house.' 

"That  was  true  enough,  but  I  must 
say  when  I  listened  to  Seth  preaching 
I  was  sort  of  staggered  as  to  what  all 
the  bygone  Snows  would  have  said. 
They  had  been  a  pretty  peaceable  set, 
not  willing  to  let  their  toes  be  trod  on, 
especially  when  money  matters  were 
concerned,  but  always  as  saving  of 
other  folks'  feelings  as  if  they  had  been 
their  own,  and  to  this  day  I  can't  quite 
ac^junt  for  Seth's  sermon,  for  he  had 
always  seemed  to  be  a  Snow  dowoi  to 
the  backbone. 

"Sometimes  I  have  thought  maybe 
he  had  a  sense  of  real  Christian  duty 
toward  his  neighbors,  and  thought  he 
ought  to  say  what  he  did.     It  was  all 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


219 


Get  Your 
Canadian  Home 

from  the 

Canadian  Pacific 


HY  farm  on  high-priced,  worn  out  lands  when  the 
richest  virgin  soil  is  waiting  for  you  in  Manitoba^  Sas- 
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One  Twentieth  Down — Balance  in  20  Years 

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The   Canadian    Pacific   Railway   Company  offers  you   the    finest  irrigated   and  noa 
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Advance  of  Live  Stock  on  Loan  Basis 


«sr 


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BOO'*' 


,r»foi» 


mMI 


oH 


of 


r"rT" 

I I  op 


I 


CANADIAN  PACIFIC  RAILWAY 

r>ept.  of  N<&tural  Resources 

20  Ninth  Avenue  West,  Calgary,  Alberta 

FOR  SAL.E-Towti  loU  in  all  srowinc  town*.     A«k  for  information  con* 
ceminB  Induatrial  and  Biuinaaa  opening*  in  all  towna. 


I 


formntion  on  bunncM  and  induitrial    |       I  n       i  U       *a    L 

opporlunilici  in  Wcilrrn  Canada  I I  DOOK  Oil   nflanitOOa 

I I  Book  on  Alberta-Saikatchewan  (_]  Irrigation  Farming 

(Make  a  cross  in  ihu  square  iipposlto  tlit  bonk  waiiteil) 

AMnu;  Canadian  Pacific  Ry.,   Dept.  of  Natural  Resources 
20  Ninth  Avenue  West,  Calgary,  AlberU 

Please  send  nie  the  bociks  itulicitivt  :ili.)vc. 


Name  __ 
Address 

Town. 


Province.. 


t 


''"■•>• IMIMIIIIIIIMi:! Ilill IIMIIIIMIilllllllllllHIIIIilllllllllllll IIIIIIIIIIIIMmi»/imillllllllMIII llllflllllllllllllllltllllllllHIIMItllllli 


220 

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Blaisdell  paper  pencils  save 

lb  to' D  J  Jo  o>uouA/  irnnhw 


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pictures  DIRECT  ON  POST  Mandel-ette  Camera.  We 
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_  _     about     24    ounces 

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THE  CHICAGO  FERROTYPE  CO. 

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III. —    " 


CHICAGO.  ILL. 


89-91  P.l«nc«y  St..  NEW  YORK,  H.V. 


All  "ARLINGTON  COLLARS"  are  good, 
Jtat  our  CHALLENGE  BRAND  is  the  best 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

true  enough,  though  it  did  put  an  end 

to  his  preaching,  and  he  has  never 
seemed  quite  the  same  since.  Some 
folks  think  he  was  so  disappointed  that 
it  loosened  a  screw  in  his  head.  Any- 
how, nobody  ever  heard  such  a  sermon 
as  Seth  Snow  preached  that  Sunday. 

"There  we  sat,  women  folks  dressed 
up  and  men  folks  shaved  and  looking 
as  fine  as  we  could,  all  pleased  with 
the  new  meetinghouse  and  smiling, 
and  Seth,  after  the  singing  (he  had 
bought  a  parlor  organ  with  the  other 
things  and  Al^by  I3arstow  played  it 
and  the  congregation  sang),  prayed. 
We  all  bent  our  heads  when  he  begun, 
but  before  he  had  prayed  five  minutes 
most  of  us  were  staring  at  him,  for  he 
was  praying  for  us.  And  he  prayed 
as  if  we  needed  it  awful  bad  and  he 
thought  so,  and  was  sure  that  the 
Almighty  did.  Of  course  he  sort  of 
threw  himself  in,  and  said  'us'  now  and 
then,  but  sometimes  he  didn't  and 
prayed  right  at  us. 

"We  had  always  known,  of  course, 
that  we  had  our  faults,  and  might 
have  Wanted  to  think  it  over  a  while 
before  we  were  willing  to  go  into  the 
arena  as  the  early  Christian  martyrs 
did  and  be  eaten  alive  by  lions  and 
tigers,  with  such  a  mean  man  as  Nero 
looking  on,  but  we  hadn't  fairly  sensed 
it  that  we  needed  such  powerful  pray- 
ing for  us  at  the  Throne  of  Grace. 
By  the  time  Seth  got  to  'Amen' — it 
was  a  pretty  long  prayer — we  begun 
to  think  we  wouldn't  have  stood  much 
chance  of  escaping  hell-fire  at  all  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  such  strong  praying, 
and,  as  it  was,  he  didn't  leave  us  any 
too  sure. 

"But  the  prayer  was  nothing  to  the 
sermon.  The  text  was  about  the  mote 
in  thy  brother's  eye,  and  the  beam  in 
thy  own  eye,  you  know  the  one  I  mean. 
Well,  Seth  contrived  to  twist  that  text 
around  in  a  fashion  I'd  never  have 
dreamed  of  and  I  don't  believe  many 
ministers  would.  I  must  say,  though 
I  had  the  same  mind  as  everybody 
else  about  his  sermon — that  it  wouldn't 
do  to  let  him  keep  on  preaching  any 
more  like  it — I  did  think  he  was  pretty 
cute. 

"He  reasoned  it  out  that  after  you'd 
got  the  beam  out  of  your  own  eye,  then 
it  was  time  to  get  at  the  mote  in  your 
neighbor's,  and  I  reckon  Seth,  he  cal- 
culated that  he'd  been  working  pretty 
hard  at  his'  own  particular  beam  and 
got  his  eyes  reasonably  clear  and  the 
time  had  come  to  look  after  the  other 
chap's  mote.  And  he  did.  He  made 
a  mighty  good-sized  mote  out  of  it; 
sort  of  got  it  mixed  up  with  the  beam, 
I  reckon. 

"He  just  lit  into  everybody  in  Snow 
Hill.  And  he  made  it  real  plain.  He 
called  names  right  out,  and  the  worst 
of  it  was  he  did  hit  the  nails  on  the 
heads    every    single    time.     When    he 


ROOFINO  I 


iriAJAlkiHl 


^m 


The  Generai 
sayss' 

The  only  test  of  roofin;?  l.s  tlia 
ttut  of  time.    This  label  on 

Certain-teed 

ROOFING 

says  that  Certain-teed  must  gFve 
you  15  years  guaranteed  service 
at  lc(ist.  And  tlie  biggest  roof- 
ing manufacturers  in  tlie  wor'd 
are  baclc  of  tliat  statement 
The  Certain-teed  label  protects 
the  dealer  who  sells,  as  well  as 
the  farmer  who  buys. 

Your  dealer  can  furnish  Certain-tetJ 
liooflnKln  rolls  and  shinirles— made  hy 
the  General  liooHntr  Mftr.  Co.,  loorW  « 
largf»t  rnofing  manufacturing  £ast  ^t. 
Louis,  111.,   Marseilles,  111.,  York,  Fi 


r 


A  Medium  Height  Collar  for 
Conservative  Dressers 

20c,  or  3  for  50c. 

This  collar  has  the  perfect  fitting  and 
wearing  qualities  that  distinguish  the  Red 
Man  Brand  from  all  others.  One  of  the 
most  popular  collars  of  the  famous  Red 
Man  Line. 

For  tale  by  Canada 's  Beat  Men  '3  Stora 

EARL  &  WILSON  -  New  York 

Makers  of  Troy's  Best  Product 


got  ready  to  clean  out  my  mote  I  was 
mad  enough,  but  he  had  me  all  right. 
"He  said:  There's  Brother  Sam 
Dyce  sitting  there  in  his  Sunday 
clothes,  looking  clean  and  shaved  and 
in  his  right  mind  and  as  if  he  had  a 
clean  conscience.  But  his  conscience 
is  not  clean  to  the  sight  of  his  fellow 
men  although  it  may  be  to  his  own, 
because  of  the  mote  which  obscures  his 
vision.  He  cannot  see,  probably,  that 
it  is  not  right  to  sell  bunches  of  aspar- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


agus  with  large  tender  stalks  on  the 
outside,  while  the  inside  ones  are  tough 
and  pindling.  He  cannot  see  that  it  is 
not  right,  when  he  is  selling  a  dozen 
eggs,  to  pick  out  as  many  as  he  dares 
of  the  little  ones.' 

"He  went  on  that  way,  and  he  was 
right.  I  was  mad,  but  I  had  to  admit 
he'd  got  me.  Then  he  begun  on 
Arabella. 

"  'There's  his  wife,'  says  he,  meaning 
Arabella.  'She's  a  good  woman.  I 
don't  doubt  that,  but  she  would  be  a 
better  one  if  instead  of  giving  her  old 
bonnet  to  Sister  Elmira  Slate  who 
hadn't  any  fit  to  come  to  the  House  of 
the  Lord  in,  she  had  worn  the  old  one 
herself,  and  given  Sister  Elmira  the 
new  one.  Sister  Slate  is  younger  than 
Sister  Dyce,  and  better  looking,  and  a 
poor  widow,  and  that  fine  new  bonnet 
might  catch  somebody's  eyes  anc}  she 
might  have  a  chance  to  get  married 
again,  and  she  would  make  a  good 
wife.  If  I  were  a  marrying  man  my- 
self, and  had  not  consecrated  the  rest 
of  my  life  to  the  service  of  the  Lord  in 
this  His  Tabernacle,  I  would  not  ask 
for  a  worthier  helpmeet  than  Sister 
Slate,  and  while  the  fine  new  bonnet 
would  make  no  difference  to  me,  we 
are  not  all  alike,  and  sometimes  it  is 
the  fine  new  bonnet  that  serves  as  a 
spark  to  kindle  the  fire  of  holy  matri- 
monial affection.  Sister  Dyce  is  a 
good  woman,  but  if  she  had  given  that 
new  bonnet  to  Sister  Slate,  and  that 
new  dress  all  shiny  with  beads  to  Sister 
Atkins,  whose  dress  don't  look  hardly 
suitable  for  this  occasion,  and  worn  one 
of  the  many  others  which  must  be 
hanging  in  her  closet  at  home,  she 
would  come  nearer  the  shining  mark 
of  the  Saints  of  the  Lord.' 

"Arabella  got  red  in  the  face,  and 
she  prodded  me  in  the  side  with  her 
elbow  so  hard  she  hurt.  'Sam,'  says 
Arabella,  'I'm  going  home.' 

"  'You  set  still,'  says  I.  I  don't 
often  go  against  my  wife's  wishes,  but 
when  I  do,  I  mean  it,  and  Arabella, 
she  .sat  still  though  she  looked  as  if  she 
would  burst. 

"Seth,  he  didn't  have  anything  to 
say  against  poor  little  Daisy,  or 
wouldn't  have  had,  except  she  went  to 
sleep.  She  never  heard  what  he  said, 
and  as  a  matter  of  fact  Arabella  and  I 
came  in  for  the  worst  of  that.  Seth 
told  us  that  we  were  running  the  risk 
of  the  unpardonable  sin  by  letting  that 
poor  little  baby  go  to  sleep  in  meeting, 
and  Arabella  got  madder,  but  Daisy, 
she  just  slept,  with  her  cheeks  like 
roses,  and  her  little  yellow  curls  all 
over  her  eyes,  and  her  little  legs  curled 
up  on  the  pew  cushion.  Arabella,  she 
put  out  her  hand  to  wake  up  the  little 
thing,  but  I  shook  my  head  at  her 
real  fierce. 

"Well,  Seth  preached  at  us  all  he 
could  think  of,  and   I  guess  he  didn't 


221 

The  Secret  of  Beauty 

is  a  clear  velvety  skin  and  a  youthful  complexion. 
If  you  value  your  good  looks  and  desire  a 
perfect  complexion,  you  must  use  Beetham's 
La-rola.  It  possesses  unequalled  qualities  for 
imparting  a  youthful  appearance  lo  the  skin 
and  complexion  of  its  users.  La-rola  is  delicate 
and  fragrant,  quite  greaseless,  and  is  very 
pleasant  to  use.  Get  a  bottle  to-day,  and  thus 
ensure   a  pleasing    and  attractive  complexion. 

BEETHAM'S 


BEETHAM'S    W 

a-rola 


Obtainable    from  all   Stores  and    Chemists 
M.  BEETHAM   &  SON,  CHELTENHAM.  ENGLAND. 


"WHAT  WAS  THAT  PRICE 
YOU  QUOTED  JONES?" 

Clear  carbon  copies  save  not  only  your  time  but 
your  money.  A  single  illegible  figure  in  a 
quotation  may  mean  a  loss  of  a  hundred  or  a 
thou.sand  dollars  if  it's  too  low  —  or  the  loss 
of  an  order  if  it's  too  high. 


PEiMSS 


TYPEWRITER 
RIBBONS 


CARBON 
PAPER 


^^^      a.s.sure  copies  that  are  clear  and   di.stinct 
4i^N^      throughout — and  remain  so  forever. 

Peerless  Ribbons  write  clean  crisp  let- 
ters that   reflect  credit   to  the  firm 
~-^      that  sends  them  out. 


Peerless  products  are  attractively  packed  and  sealed,  are  unaffected  l>y  any 
climate  and  are  uiu-oiiditionalK'  guaranteed.  (\\ 

CARBON  AND  RIBBON  MFG.  CO.,  tIMlTEO 

78  Richmond  Street  We«t,     -     TORONTO,  CANADA 


leave  much  out.  I  had  always  known 
I  had  charged  a  pretty  big  interest  on  a 
inortgage  I  held  on  Moses  White's 
house,  and  it  wasn't  any  news  to  me 
to  hear  it  from  the  pulpit.  I  had  to 
grin  and  bear  it,  if  I  did  sec  Moses 
sitting  up  and  looking  real  proud  and 
injured  over  across  the  aisle.  But 
the  next  minute  he  got  his  turn,  for 
Seth,  he  just  lit  into  him  about  wasting 
his  money  on  tobacco  and  rum,  and 
loafing  when  he  ought  to  be  working, 
and  said  that  tW«)ugh  Brother  Dyce 
was  charging  exorbitant  interest  on  his 


inorijjago,  the  money  wasn't  In'tjlig 
speiil  in  such  bad  ways,  for  Brotljj^r 
Dyce  was  working  hard  at  his  appoint- 
ed task,  and  didn't  drink,  nor  smoke, 
nor  chew.  Then  he  wound  up  by 
giving  both  of  us  a  hit,  by  saying  that 
neither  man's  fault  excused  the  other's, 
that  my  sharpness  in  money  matters 
didn't  excuse  Moses,  and  Moses's  bad 
habits  didn't  excuse  me. 

"Then  if  he  didn't  have  a  fling  at 
Elmira  Slate,  and  say  that  if  she  had 
not  been  quite  so  extravagant  in  y^ars 
gone  by,   and   had   learned  as  e\ery 


222 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


"Don't  you  teU— Sis! 


J> 


"This'll  be  a  good 
joke  on  mother! 

She  didn't  think  we 
could  reach  so  high 
when  she  put  Kel- 
logg's  on  the  top 
shelf,  did  she? 


But  we    fooled 
this  time ! 


her 


Course  mother  won't 
care,  'cause  she  lets 
us  have  Kellogg's 
every  time  we  want 
it,  don't  she?  Says 
it's  good  for  us  and 
makes  us  grow  like 
everything. 


10<^^ 


108 


CORNFLAKES 

Alwa3rs  fresh— always  uniform  in  quality.  10c  at  all  grocers 


^  Fight  Flies  With  Tanglefoot! 


'—  For  thirty  years  Tanglefoot  ha«  been  America's  surest,  safest,  most 
sanitary  fiy-destroyer.  It  is  non-poisonous,  easy  to  use,  and  costs  but 
a  trifle.  Each  sheet  is  capable  of  killing  1.000  flies.  And  Tangle- 
foot not  only  kills  the  fly,  but  seals  it  over  with  a  varnish  that 
destroys  the  germs  as  well.  In  buying,  ask  for  the  genuine 
"TANGLEFOOT" — it  costs  you  no  more  and  lasts  twice  as  long 
as  the  no-narae  kinds  sold  merely  as  fly-paper,  or  sticky  fly-paper. 

MAIlK  ONLY  BY 

The  O.  &  W.  THUM  Co.,  Grand  Rapids.  Mich. 

Gasoline  will  (/uickly  remove  Tan«lefoot  from  cloth 


How  to  Use 

Opoii  Tangrlefoot  slowly.  In  rool 
wt'iitlicr  warm  slightly.  For 
iH-st  n'siilt.s  pla.-c  Tanglefoot  on 
I'hair  itt'iir  win.i.iw-  at  night. 
LowiT  all  shaiii's,  I'-aviitg  one  at 
tile  Tanglefoot  winilow  raise,] 
alxmt  a  foot.  The  early  morning 
liylit  attract*  the  flies  to  thi- 
Tanglefoot,  where  they  are 
rnuglit. 


es  or  furniture. 


wtjman  should,  to  make  over  and  cut 
out  clothes  for  herself  she  wouldn't 
need  anything  given  her,  and  then  he 
said  that  Sister  Atkins  had  always 
worn  her  best  clothes  too  common  in 
all  kinds  of  weather,  or  she  would  have 
looked  more  suitably  attired  on  that 
holy  day. 

"Weil,  we  sat  there  and  listened. 
Some  made  a  move  to  go  out  after 
they  had  been  trounced,  but  when 
they  got  it  through  their  heads  that 
if  they  waited  they'd  see  the  boot 
fitted  on  the  other  leg,  they  kept  their 
sitting.  When  the  sermon  was  done 
there  was  more  singing,  and  Seth,  he 
made  another  prayer.  That  time  it 
was  short.  He  told  the  Lord  Almighty 
how  he  had  told  us  what  our  short- 
comings were,  and  he  hoped  He  would 
forgive  us  if  we  turned  round  and  did 
better.  I  don't  mean  to  be  making 
light  of  sacred  things,  but  that  was 
really  the  heft  of  that  prayer.  Then 
Seth,  he  just  said  'Amen,'  and  sat  down 
on  his  pulpit  sofa,  and  we  went  out. 

"Seth  didn't  venture  to  pronounce  a 
benediction.  For  all  he  was  so  satisfied 
with  himself,  I  guess  he  thought  that 
would  be  going  too  far.  He  just  said 
'Amen,'  and  sat  down,  and  we  went 
out.  There  wasn't  any  hard  feelings 
between  us,  as  we  went  home  along 
that  road.  There  couldn't  be.  We'd 
all  been  hit  too  much  alike.  Some  of 
us  was  even  sort  of  tickled  and  laugh- 
ing, and  others  were  mad,  but  all  with 
Seth.  That  was  the  last  sermon  he 
ever  preached  in  Snow  Hill. 

"The  next  Sunday  he  rang  his  old 
cracked  bell  for  all  he  was  worth,  but 
everybody  in  Snow  Hill  who  could  go  to 
meeting  at  all,  went  to  Snow  Center. 
They  had  had  all  they  wanted  of 
Seth's  preaching,  and  they  would  have 
footed  it  miles  in  any  kind  of  weather, 
winter  cold  or  summer  heat,  rather 
than  sit  and  listen  to  another  sermon 
like  that.  Arabella  said  she  felt  as  if 
she  had  lived  through  a  little  of  the 
Day  of  Judgment,  and  she  didn't  want 
any  more  sooner  than  she  could  help  it. 

"Well,  there  was  poor  Seth  Snow 
with  his  house  turned  into  a  church, 
and  all  the  pews  and  the  pulpit,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  carpet,  and  the  bell, 
and  the  parlor  organ  and  the  steeple 
on  his  hands.  It  went  pretty  hard 
with  him. 

"Then  he  tried  to  get  rid  of  his 
church  fixings.  He  was  real  lucky 
about  his  pews  and  carpet  and  parlor 
organ.  He  sold  the  organ  at  a  good 
figure  to  a  man  in  Snow  Center  who 
wanted  it  for  his  new  second  wife  who 
was  young  enough  to  be  his  daughter. 
Then  the  church  in  Elmville  caught 
fire,  and  all  the  inside  that  wasn't 
burned  was  spoiled  by  smoke  and 
water,  and  he  sold  his  pews  and  carpet 
and  made  a  good  profit,  but  the  pulpit 
and  steeple  stuck  on  his  hands.   Finally 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


223 


he  seemed  to  feel  so  wrought  up  over 
it  I  took  the  pulpit  into  my  store  to 
try  to  sell  it,  though  I  must  say  folks 
don't  come  asking  to  look  at  pulpits  as 
a  rule,  and  it  was  a  good  deal  in  my 
way.  But  I  declare  that  pulpit  was 
sold  within  a  year,  and  it  was  all  owing 
to  Seth's  sharpness.  He  hadn't  been 
born  a  Snow  for  nothing. 

"One  day  he  got  into  a  dispute  with 
a  stranger  in  these  parts,  and  Seth,  he 
said  he  didn't  ever  bet,  it  being  against 
his  principles,  but  if  he  did  bet,  he'd  be 
willing  to  lay  a  good  deal  that  there 
wasn't  a  thing  in  that  store  of  mine  in 
use  in  the  country  that  couldn't  be 
bought.  And  that  stranger  comes 
walking  into  my  store,  and  asks  for  a 
pulpit,  and  there  it  was.  It  seems  he'd 
told  Seth  that  he'd  buy  the  thing  that 
was  in  his  mind,  if  I  had  it,  and  it 
turned  out  to  be  a  pulpit.  I  always 
thought  Seth  had  contrived  to  turn 
his  thoughts  that  way  somehow. 

"Seth  was  pretty  cute,  even  after 
he'd  been  so  disappointed  about  his 
preaching,  that  folks  surmised  he 
wasn't  quite  right  in  his  head.  I've 
never  seen  anything  wrong  myself 
except  for  one  thing.  Seth,  he  will 
ring  that  old  cracked  bell  every  single 
Sunday,  and  get  himself  up  all  ready 
to  preach,  though  it  seems  as  if  he 
must  know  nobody  will  come,  and  it 
has  been  years,  for  Daisy  is  'most 
twenty,  and  he's  kept  it  up  ever  since 
that  Sunday,  and  he's  an  old  man 
now." 

"He  didn't  have  a  chance  to  sell  the 
steeple  ?"  asked  Weston. 

"Why,  yes,  he  did,  and  that  was 
another  queer  thing.  He  had  a  good 
chance  to  sell  that  steeple  when  the 
one  on  the  Baptist  Church  in  Snow 
Center  was  struck  by  lightning,  but 
he  wouldn't  sell.  He  told  me  about 
it.  'Sam,'  says  he,  'I  had  a  chance  to 
sell  my  church  steeple,  but  that's  one 
thing  I  won't  part  with  if  it  did  cost 
me  a  pretty  penny,  and  folks  think  it's 
thrown  away.  It  ain't  thrown  away,' 
says  Seth.  'That's  one  thing  that 
ain't.  If  I  can't  preach,  that  steeple 
can  ix)int  up  and  show  what  I  meant 
to  do.  I  meant  to  point  up,'  stiys 
Seth,  'and  I  still  think  I  had  a  call  to 
point  up,  Sam.' 

"There  was  something  sort  of  sad 
about  it.  He  wouldn't  sell  the  steeple, 
and  as  for  the  l>ell,  nobody  wanted 
that." 

"He  is  an  old  man  ?" 

"Yes,  Seth's  pretty  old.  He  is  a 
good  deal  older  than  I  am.  He  looks 
full  as  old  as  he  is,  too.  His  hair  has 
been  as  white  as  snow  a  good  many 
years,  and  he  walks  bent  over.  He 
tries  to  farm  a  little  but  he  don't  make 
out  much.  But  that  don't  make  any 
odds,  for  he's  got  plenty  out  at  interest 
to  live  on.  But  I've  always  been  sorry 
for  Seth.     !f<'-  a  disappointed   man. 


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Once  he  says  to  me,  'Do  you  know  I 
only  preached  that  one  sermon,  Sam  ?' 

"  'Maybe  that  did  more  go<xi  than  a 
dozen,'  I  toiil  him.  Sometimes  I've 
wondered  if  it  didn't.  I  know  I  used 
to  do  a  little  different,  and  I  know 
.Arabella  gave  Rlmira  Slate  a  brand- 
new  bonnet,  and  I  know  Sister  Atkins 
iriwl  to  make  over  a  dress." 

"  '.And  I've  never  even  preached  a 
funeral  sermon,  nor  married  a  couple,' 
says  Seth. 

"  'Why,  you  couldn't  do  that  last 


anyway,'  1  told  him,  'for  you  know 
you  ain't  an  ordained  minister,  Seth.' 

"But  he  didn't  s(>em  to  scn.se  that. 
'It's  a  pretty  hard  thing,  a  pretty  hard 
thing,  for  a  man  to  be  disappointed  in 
everything  he  wants  to  do  for  other 
folks,'  says  he,  and  he  goes  away, 
shaking  his  head.  That  wasn't  long 
ago." 

Weston's  eyes  had  been  on  the  road 
for  the  last  few  seconds.  Something 
was  approaching  at  a  swift  glide.  The 
young  man  changed  color.     Sam  Dyce 


224 


VM^^^Si? 


Why  that  pain,  when 
Blue -jay  would  stop  it 
instantly? 

Why  have  a  corn,  when 
Blue-jay  would  remove  it  in 
two  days? 

Why  that  discomfort,  when 
millions  of  people  could  tell  you 
a  way  to  get  rid  of  it? 


These  are  the  facts : 

Blue-jay  is  applied  in  a  jiffy. 
And  from  that  instant  all  pain  is 
stopped. 

Then,  while  you  woric  or  sleep 
or  plaj'.  Blue-jay  undermines  tte 
com.  In  two  days  you  can  lift  it 
out,  without  any  pain  or  soreness. 

Think  how  easy,  how  simple. 

While  you  pare  corns,  or  doctor 
them  in  other  petty  ways,  Blue-jay 
is  taking  out  a  million  corns  a  month. 

It  is  simply  folly,  in  these  modem 
days,  to  suffer  from  a  corn.  A 
single  test  will  prove  this. 


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CANADA  MONTHLY 

observed  him,  and  a  queer  little  smile 
twisted  his  mouth. 

The  little  electric  car  glided  up  to 
the  house  opposite,  a  large  woman  got 
out,  and  entered,  then  the  car  wheeled 
and  approached  the  store.  Becom- 
ingly framed  in  the  car's  dark  hood 
showed  a  girl's  charming,  delicate  head 
and  face.  She  flushed  ever  so  slightly, 
and  smiled  at  the  two  men.  Weston 
approached  her  eagerly  and  at  the 
same  time  appeared,  as  if  he  had  risen 
from  the  ground,  his  coming  had  been 
so  unobserved,  an  old  man,  bent,  white- 
headed,  with  a  face  at  once  shrewd, 
benevolent,  and  pathetic.  He  spoke 
at  once  to  Weston. 

"Well,"  said  he.  "I  hope  now  you 
have  come  to  marry  her,  and  are  not 
intending  any  further  delay." 

The  girl  and  the  man  started.  "Now, 
Seth,"  said  Sam  Dyce. 

"You  need  not  talk,"  said  the  old 
man.  "It  is  time  something  was  done. 
Your  daughter  is  as  good  a  girl,  and  as 
pretty  a  girl,  as  ever  lived,  Sam  Dyce, 
and  she  is  not  going  to  be  hurt.  This 
man  has  been  coming,  and  coming, 
and  she  likes  him.  As  for  the  other 
man,  her  mother  is  so  set  on — "  The 
old  man  made  a  contemptuous  gesture. 
Then  he  spoke  with  a  wonderful, 
almost  uncanny  authority.  "Stand 
up  beside  that  girl  in  the  buggy,"  he 
ordered  Weston,  and  Weston  obeyed. 
"Now,  do  you  want  to  marry  that 
woman,  and  love  her  and  take  care  of 
her,  and  stand  between  her  and  all. 
the  troubles  of  life  ?"  he  said.  Weston, 
white  to  the  lips,  bowed. 

"Daisy,"  said  Seth  Snow,  "do  you 
like  that  man  enough  to  put  up  with 
his  faults,  and  be  happy  ?"  Daisy 
tremblingly  bowed. 

"Then,"  said  Seth,  "I  pronounce 
you  man  and  wife." 

Seth  walked  away,  straightening  his 
bowed  back. 

Sam  Dyce  spoke  first.  "See  here," 
he  said,  "that  wasn't  legal,  you  know." 
"We  can  have  it  made  legal  easily," 
said  Weston.  All  at  once  his  uncer- 
tainty had  vanished.  Daisy  re- 
garded him  and  her  father  with  an 
adorable  expression — shy,  triumphant, 
shamed,  rapturous. 

"Well,  I  never,"  said  Sam.  "What 
will  that  other  fellow  do  ?" 

"He  went  away  this  morning, 
father,"  said,  Daisy.  "There  was 
another  girl,  really.  He  used  to  go 
with  her.  Annie  Munson  told  me,  and 
said  she  felt  dreadfully.f|I  think  he 
will  go  back  to  her."   ^     " --"^ 

"Never  mind  him,"  said  Weston. 
He  looked  at  the  girl  and  she  looked  at 
him. 

Above  the  tree  tops  showed  in  a  clear 
sharp  triangle  Seth  Snow's  church 
steeple.  Presently  there  pealed  out  in 
a  dissonant  jangle  his  cracked  bell. 
But    since   all    discords    mayftecome 


It- 
must— 
be- 
Bovril 


You  can  be  sure  of  be-  |  has  been  proved  to  pro- 
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take  Bovril.  Partly  by  I  flesh,  bone  and  muscle 
virtue  of  its  own  food  '  equal  to  10  to  20  times 
value,  partly  through  ,  the  amount  of  Bovril 
its  unique  powers  of  j  taken.  But  it-must-be- 
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of  other  foods,  Bovril 

Of  all  Stores,  etc.,  at 

1-ox..  2Sc. :    2-oz.,  40c. ;    4-oz.,  70c.;    8-oz.,  $1.30; 

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Bovril  Cordial,  large.  $1.23;  a-ot.,  40c. 

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s  H.B. 


p^^^l 

Mp  We  Told  You  Sol    ^|J 

^^  Labatt's  ^^^ 

|B|  Lager    fffl| 

9wjff       Now  Perfected-        ^VV 

||^::.^The  best  on  the  maAet!  ^»^J 

^^RYI^l 

JohnLabatt^i^    London 

LIMITED                                               OUT. 

a 

harmonious  under  some  circumstances, 
that  old  Sabbath  bell  rang  out  for  the 
two  lovers  a  chime  of  prophecy  of  end- 
less happiness. 


Marbles  for  Keeps 

Continued  from  page  1G8. 

the  latch,  followed  by  the  closing  of 
the  door.  I  resolved  that  I  would 
find  out  what  he  was  trying  to  do,  and 
had  just  time  to  turn  out  my  light  and 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Q 
10 
Q 
I 
I 
Q 
0] 
111 


10 


open  the  door  when  I  saw  his  little 
pajama-clad  figure  disappear  into  his 
brothers'  room  and  close  the  door 
behind  him.  I  was  frightened  and 
anxious  in  a  minute,  thinking,  that 
he  was  walking  in  his  sleep,  in  con- 
sequence of  an  empty  stomach  and  [j] 
the  agitations  of  the  day. 

I  ran  hastily  to  another  door  that 
opened  into  the  boys'  room  and,  stand- 
ing behind  the  curtain,  saw  John,  in 
the  full  possession  of  his  faculties, 
carefully  empty  his  marbles  on  the 
bed  of  one  of  the  sleeping  rogues,  take 
down  their  two  marble  bags,  place 
them,  opened,  on  the  bed  and  begin  to 
count  off  his  marbles  into  them, 
deliberating  over  each,  in  order  to  make 
no  mistake.  Twisting  and  weighing 
his  beloved  red  bowler  in  one  plump 
hand,  placing  the  green  agate  shooter 
in  one  last  position  of  attack,  he  count- 
ed them  off,  with  Uttle  intermittent 
sobs,  into  the  yawning  bags  until  they 
were  all  gone.  I  saw  him  then  try 
hard  to  draw  the  string  of  Jerry's  bag 
over  the  overflow  and,  at  length, 
decide  to  lay  the  handful  on  the  bed. 
He  smoothed  out  his  empty  marble 
bag  on  the  counterpane  and  folded  it 
with  elaborate  care. 

He  had  evidently  cried  it  out,  for 
very  little  sobs  came  at  regular  inter- 
vals,— not  heart-rending  ones  like  those 
of  the  afternoon,  but  quiet  little 
resigned  ones, — the  after-shower  of 
the  storm. 

"You  will  have  heart-aches  always, 
Little  Sir,"  was  my  mental  comment, 
Ijehind  the  curtain,  "because  you  take 
life  too  seriously." 

But,  oh  !  why,  do  you  shut  me  out  ! 
I  felt  a  sudden  maternal  yearning  for 
the  little  misunderstood  creature,  im- 
possible to  explain  till  every  move  he 
made  caused  my  heartstrings  to  re- 
sfKjnd  with  a  jerk.  I  looked  at  the 
cherubic  outlines  of  his  little  figure, — 
round  head,  round  eyes,  apple  cheeks, 
pug  nose,  dimpled  chin  and  rose-bud 
mouth — that  happy  combination  of 
features  was  never  made  for  grief. 
But  he  only  fitted  the  neat  square  of 
the  marble  bag  into  his  pajama  pocket 
and  disappeared  into  the  gathering 
darkness.     His  account  was  settled. 


[psc 


I 


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50  and  1^-  of  a  second  with  No.  lA.  New  style 
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No.  1.  size  of  pictures.  2  Ji  x  3  Ji  inches,  meniscus  achromatic  lens.  $  7.50 

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Ditto,  with  Rapid  Rectilinear  lens.           -          -          -          -         -  11.00 


225 

I! 
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TORONTO 


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The  Woman  Of  It 

Continued  from  page  ISl. 

"You  have  something  to  say  to 
me  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  said  again  and  then  a  sob 
broke  from  her. 

He  turned  away  at  this— he  knew 
that  she  suffered  and  the  thought  of 
it  drove  him  mad. 

"What  is  it,  Valerie  ?"  he  asked 
gently,  coming  a  little  nearer. 

"I    cannot   bear   this   any   longer," 


she  said,  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands. 

"What  is  it  you  cannot  bear  ?"  he 
asked  with  characteristic  directness. 
"I  cannot  bear  to  have  you  here — it  is 
killing  me  !"  She  dropped  her  hands 
from  her  face,  "Killing  me,"  she 
repeated.  "No,  it  is  not  doing  that  ! 
I  wish  it  would — but  it  tortures  me,  I 
cannot  bear  it." 

"How  did  you  happen  to  be  here, 
Valerie  ?"  he  asked  gravely. 

"Oh,  I  overheard  you  at  breakfast." 
She  laughed  mirthlessly.    "Yes,  I  came 


out  here  and  waylaid  you — ^it's  even 
come  to  that  with  me  !" 

Her  words  stung  him.  Valerie's 
proud  head  in  the  dust  was  a  pitiful 
thing. 

"Dear,"  he  said  gently,  "you  must 
go  back  to  the  house.  I'll  wait  here 
for  the  shooting  party  to  come  up." 

"You,"  she  said  with  indescribable 
bitterness,  "you  don't  care  !" 

He  made  no  answer  and  she  went 
on,  "It  is  this  that  hurts  me  too — this 
knowledge  that  I  have  given  you  my 
whole  heart  and  that  it  means  nothin 


S 


226 


Ihe  Ideal  Ap^^^i^t 


ruftGtHl  IKjftgt^  fe-OHotu}  Uvucim!  (^^Jf«;t.M^  li-ui^ctNl    PuftctNl  It\^CM 


0/  Dr^qgisls,  30  c.  j>er  box  or  pontage  paid 
for  35  c.  direct  from 

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CANADA  MONTHLY 

to  you  !     I  am  a  woman  who  counts 
for  nothing  in  your  life  !" 

He  made  no  disclaimer  and  she  went 
on  hotly,  "I  am  a  fool,  a  fool  !  I  love 
you  despite  it  all  !  I  believe  that  I, 
who  was  so  proud,  would  grovel  for 
the  least  sign  that  you  loved  me  !" 

"Don't,  Valerie,"  he  said  chokingly, 
"you  hurt  me  !" 

She  looked  up  at  him  doubtfully  and 
saw  that  he  was  very  pale.  "My 
darling,"  she  said  very  gently,  "am  I 
doing  you  an  injustice  ?" 

"Don't,"  he  said  again  between  his 
teeth.  "Valerie  !  Do  you  think  I 
can  stand  everything  ?" 

"I  don't  know."  She  panted  a 
little.  "I  seem  to  have  lost  my  bal- 
ance— to  have  lost  everything  !  There 
is  just  one  thing,  you  must  tell  me, 
Robert,  and  that  is- — do  you  love  me  ? 
Can  you  love  ?  Is  there  room  any- 
where in  you  for  love  ?  Sometimes,  I 
seem  as  if  I  had  only  touched  the  outer 
crust  of  you  !  I  have  never  penetrated 
into  your  heart !  You  care  more  for  your 
voice,   for  your  music,  than  for  me  !" 

He  had  come  nearer  to  her  and  she 
could  see  that  he  was  trembling  in 
the  grip  of  a  passion  too  strong  for 
repression. 

"Valerie !"  he  said  and  in  another 
moment,  he  had  taken  her  iqto  his 
arms,  had  crushed  her  to  him  and  was 
kissing  her,  holding  her  close  to  him. 
It  was  the  primitive,  always  convin- 
cing way,  of  man  making  woman  feel 
that  he  cares;  and  for  a  moment,  she 
said  nothing,  could  say  nothing,  car- 
ried away  by  the  tide  of  a  passion  that 
she  could  not,  or  would  not,  have 
stemmed. 

Then  he  loosed  her  quite  suddenly. 
"I  have  been  a  traitor  to-day,"  he  said. 
"But,  Valerie,  I  swear  it — it  shall  never 
be  again  !" 

She  laughed — a  round  laughter,  that 
just  meant  joy  and  nothing  else.  "My 
dear,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "it  has  meant 
all  the  world  to  me  !" 

"Why  ?"  he  said— he  had  loosed  her 
and  stood  looking  at  her. 

"Why — because  now  I  know  that 
you  love  me  and  no  one  else  !" 

"Love  you  !  Love  you  !  do  you 
mean  that  you  honestly  doubted  it  for 
one  moment  of  your  life  ?  I  did  not 
dream  you  would  !" 

"I  thought  you  had  forgotten — when 
I  saw  you  with  Dolly  Brent — " 

"With  DoHy  Brent  !"  His  voice 
was  full  of  contempt. 

"Yes,  why  not  ?  She  is  pretty  and 
she  would  love  you — she  looks  at  you 
with  adoring  eyes  !  Dear,  I  could  not 
bear  it  !     I  was  mad  with  jealousy  !" 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  and  he  spoke 
almost  roughly,  "I  would  have  you 
remember  that  the  Dolly  Brents  and 
their  kind  are  nothing  to  me — you 
are  the  only  woman  who  counts — it 
will  never  be  anything  but  you — " 


Hdllili] 


[HME  & 

SEAL 
BRAND 

COFFEE 

SATISFIES 


Packe(^  !b   one    and    two    pound 
tins  only 


CHASE  &  SANBORN 

MONTREAL 

m  m  mmm 


"Robert  !"  Her  voice  had  a  ring 
of  triumph  in  it. 

"I  thought  you  knew  this,"  he  said. 
"I  shall  never  see  you  again,  except  by 
chance,  Valerie — for  Denzil  is  the 
man  I  love  as  you  are  the  woman  !  I 
don't  think  I  was  made  for  domestic 
joys,  you  see  !  I  remember  too  well 
what  my  mother  suffered — and  as  far 
as  my  art  goes,  it  is  enough  that  I 
should  know  what  love  really  means. 
When  I  sing  a  love-song,  it  is  to  you 
that  I  sing  it,  whether  you  are  there 
or  not — you  are  always  there  for  me  ! 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


227 


I 


That  satisfies  me,  Valerie  !  I  can 
love  you,  and  I  can  strut  about  a 
stage  and  sing  !  You  don't  know 
what  that  means  to  me  !" 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  the  girl,  a  note  of 
sadness  dulling  the  joy  in  her  voice. 
"I  don't  !  I  have  not  the  artist  soul, 
Robert, — and  you  have  !" 

"You  have  the  very  innermost  part 
of  me  !  You  sit  on  the  throne  of  my 
heart  and  there  is  no  one  who  can  crawl 
up  to  its  steps  even  !  And  because  I 
have  put  you  there,  you  must  always 
and  will  always  do  whatever  is 
queenly.  Valerie,  I  should  not  have 
kissed  you  !     I  am  sorry,  dear  !" 

"I  am  not,"  she  said  fiercely.  "I 
am  just  a  woman,  not  an  artist,  and 
when  you  kissed  me  as  you  did,  you — " 
she  turned  her  face  from  him. 

"What  did  I  do  ?"  he  asked. 

"You  made  me  know  that  you 
cared — it  was  all  that  I  wanted  to 
know,"  she  added  humbly. 

He  gave  a  little  impatient  laugh. 
"That  I  cared,"  he  said,  and  looked  at 
her. 

The  twilight  was  falling  and  yet  he 
could  see  the  color  of  her  eyes  and  the 
charming,  crimson  mouth.  In  the 
golden  of  the  foliage  it  seemed  as  if 
her  face  was  surrounded  by  lambent 
flames.  And  the  color  gave  to  her 
expression  an  intensity,  a  burning 
force  that  impressed  itself  on  him. 

"You  must  go  now,  Valerie,"  he 
said,  his  voice  strangely  quiet,  "t  will 
not  have  you  talked  about." 

"No,  dear,"  she  said  and  turning 
away  walked  out  of  the  '  beechwood 
and  slowly  homewards. 

He  stood  for  a  few  moments  and 
thought.  It  was  all  intensely  still. 
Not  an  air  was  stirring.  Only  the  breath 
of  King  Frost  was  hovering  over  the 
moist  lands.  A  new-born  moon  T  was 
lying  on  its  back  in  the  clear  motion- 
less air.  The  color  had  faded  out  of 
everything  and  a  great  melancholy 
seized  the  young  man.  It  seemed  to 
him  as  if  he  did  not  care  to  move,  to 
think.  It  came  to  him  that  life  was 
poignantly,  unbearably  sad — he  want- 
ed— oh,  if  he  would  not  say  to  himself, 
that  what  he  wanted  was  the  warm 
clasp  of  the  human  hand,  the  love 
which  he  had  declared  so  vehemently 
need  never  have  a  material  realization  ! 

As  he  stood  there,  his  quick  ear 
heard  the  soft  breaking  of  branches, 
the  furtive  sound  of  some  one  or  some- 
thing trying  to  make  his  or  its  way  out 
of  the  beechwood.  He  listened  for  a 
moment  and   the  sounds  grew  fainter. 

But  they  had  been  there — they  had 
come  from  quite  near  to  the  place 
where  he  had  clasped  Valerie  to  him, 
in  that  moment  of  madness  which  he 
had  regretted.  Some  one  might  have 
been  a  spectator  of  the  whole  inter-* 
view.  Some  one  might  have  seen  him 
take    his    friend's    sweetheart    in    his 


\ 


You  can  make  your  skin  what 
you  would  love  to  have  it 

Your  skin,  like  the  rest  of  your  body,  is  continually  changing.  Every  day, 
in  washing,  you  rub  off  dead  skin.      As  this  old  skin  dies,  new  forms. 

This  is  your  opportunity — you  can  make  this  new  skin  what  you  would  love 
to  have  it  by  using  the  following  treatment  regularly. 

Make  this  treatment  a  daily  habit 


Just  before  retiring;,  work  up  a  warm-water 
lather  of  Woodbury  s  Facial  Soap  in  your 
hands.  Apply  it  to  your  face  and  rub  it  in- 
to the  pores  thoroughly — always  with  an  up- 
ward and  outward  motion.  Rinse  with  warm 
water,  then  with  cold — the  colder  the  better. 
If  possible,  rub  your  face  for  a  few  minutes 
with  a  piece  of  ice. 

This  treatment  with  Woodbury's  will  make 
your  skin  fresher  and  clearer  the  first  time 


you  use  it.  Make  it  a  nightly  habit  and  before 
long  you  will  see  a  decided  improvement 
— a  promise  of  that  lovelier  complexion  which 
the  steady  use  of  Woodbury's  always  brings. 
Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  costs  25c  a  cake. 
No  one  hesitates  at  the  price  after  their  first 
cake.  Tear  off  the  illustration  of  the  cake 
below  and  put  it  in  your  purse  as  a  reminder 
to  get  Woodbury's  today  and  try  this  treat- 
ment. 


Woodbury's  Facial  Soap 


for  sate  by  Canadian  druggists  from  coast  to  coast, 
including  Ntwjoundland. 

Write    today    to    the    Canadian 
Woodbury  Factory  for  samples 

For  4c  iLC  luilt  send  a  sample  cake.  For  10c, 
samples  of  IVooiibury's  Facial.  Soap,  Facial 
Cream  and  Poiuder.  For  50c,  a  copy  of  the 
IVooJhury  Book  and  samples  of  the  If'oodbury 
Preparations. 

Address  The  Andrew  Jergeru  Co.,  Ud., 
Depl.Ul-K  Perth,  Ontario. 


arms  !  Some  one  might  ha\('  heard 
what  he  had  said  to  her  and  she  had 
said  to  him  ! 

Some  one,  but  who  ?  It  mattered 
everything,  that  the  some  one  should 
be  one  who  would  not  circulate  the 
story — some  one  who  would  never  let 
Denzil  know  ! 

It  might  of  course  only  be  some  one 
in  the  village,  who  would  not  know 
Valerie  so  well  by  sight,  that  they 
would  know  who  she  was— it  might 
have  been  an  old  woman,  come  to  pick 


up  sticks  and  leaving  furtively  1  e- 
cause  she  had  no  manner  of  right  to  c'o 
it  !  It  might  be  all  that  and  yet  it 
might  not  be.  But  if  it  ever  came  to 
Denzil's  hearing  it  would  break  his 
heart — nothing  would  ever  matter 
again  to  him,  if  he  knew  ! 

He  stood  irresolute  for  a  long  time — 
not  knowing  whether  to  go  and  step 
out  into  the  avenue  or  to  remain  where 
he  was.  Then  suddenly  his  quick 
ear  detected  another  noise  from  afar. 
It  was  some  of  the  shooters  coming 


228 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A  COOL  KITCHEN 


A  cool  kitchen  on  ironing  day  is  possible 
with  a 

New  Per/Action 


>V1CK    BI^UE    FLAI»IE 


\^in\M^. 


Oil  Cook-stove 

The  heat  is  all  in  the  burner — noie  in  the 
room. 

The  New  Perfection  is  cheaper  than  coal — and 
cooks  better.  Broils,  bakes,  roasts,  toasts. 
In  1 ,  2,  3  and  4  burner  sizes.  Ask  to  see  the 
1914  model  4  burner,  cabinet  range  with  fireless 
cooking  oven.  At  all  hardw^are  and  general  stores. 
Royalite  Oil  Gives  Best  Results 


THE  IMPERIAL  OIL  CO.,  Limited 

Toronto         Montreal  Winnepeg        Vancouver 

Ottawa  Quebec  Calgary  Edmonton 

Halifax         St.  John  Regina  Saskatoon 


THE 

Canadian  Bank   of  Commerce 

HEAD  OFFICE      -      -      -      TORONTO 

CAPITAL  $15,000,000       REST  $13,500,000 

SIR  EDMUND  WALKER,  C.V.O..  LL.D.,  DC  L.,  President 

ALEXANDER  LAIRD 

General  Manager 

V.  C.  BROWN.  Superintendent  of  Central  Western  Branches 


JOHN  AIRD 

Assistant  General  Manager 


BRANCHES  THROUGHOUT  CANADA,  AND  IN  LONDON,  ENGLAND,  ST.  JOHN'S, 
NEWFOUNDLAND.  THE  UNITED  STATES  AND  MEXICO 


SAVINGS  BANK  DEPARTMENT 

Interest  at  the  current  rate  is  allowed  on  all  deposits  of  $  1 ,00  and 
upwards.  Small  accounts  are  welcomed.  Accounts  may  be  opened  in 
the  names  of  two  or  more  persons,  withdrawals  to  be  made  by  any  one  of 
the  number. 

Accounts  can  be  opened  and  operated  by  mail  as  easily  as  by  a 
personal  visit  to  the  bank. 


back  from  the  moors.  It  would  never 
do  for  him  to  be  seen  loitering  there. 
He  stepped  out  boldly,  making  up  his 
mind  to  go  and  meet  them  and  walk 
up  to  the  house  with  them.  It  was 
an  act  of  deceit,  but  deceit  did  not 
count  in  this  dilemma.  "I  would 
lie  and  lie  to  save  Denzil,"  he  said  to 
himself.  He  had  walked  some  forty 
yards,  when  the  first  of  the  shooting 
party  came  up  to  him.  Dolly  Brent, 
looking  very  tired  indeed,  was  walking 
beside  Colonel  Sandays.  Perhaps, 
thought  Sinclair  a  little  disdainfully, 
Dolly's  sudden  admiration  for  himself 
might  have  the  effect  of  bringing 
Colonel  Sandays  to  book,  but  when 
Dolly  saw  him  she  cried  out, 

"Where  have  you  sprung  from  ?" 

"I  have  just  come  from  beyond  the 
coppice,"  said  he. 

"You  finished  your  letters  earlier 
than  you  thought  for  ?" 

He  made  a  wry  face.  "Better  not 
ask  about  my  letters,"  he  said.  The 
other  members  of  the  party  now  came 
near.     It  had   grown  quite  dark. 

"Hallo,  Sinclair,  that  is  not  you  ?" 
cried  out  another  voice. 

"Why  should  it  not  be  ?"  asked 
Sinclair — he  thought  that  there  must 
be  something  underlying  this  surprise. 

"Well,  I  could  have  betted  that  I 
saw  you  near  the  inn  when  we  passed  a 
few  moments  ago.  In  fact  I  did  bet  ! 
I  said  it  was  you,  who  had  gone  in  to 
get  a  drink  and  Sandays  said  he  was 
sure  it  was  not  you  !" 

"You  might  have  known  it  was  not," 
said  Sinclair.  "I  have  too  much 
regard  for  my  voice  to  have  drinks  at 
all  hours  of  the  day  !" 

"Sandays  said  he  was  sure  it  was  an 
older  man,  but  we  could  not  see  his 
face — he  passed  us  and  it  was  really 
your     walk,     Sinclair  !" 

"Was  it  ?"  asked  Robert.  He  felt  un- 
easy— he  seemed  to  connect  the  appear- 
ance of  the  man  who  resembled  him 
in  some  way  with  the  rustling  in  the 
trees  of  the  coppice.  And  suddenly 
there  came  to  him  a  thought  that 
filled  him  with  horror.  Could  it 
have  been  his  father  ?  Could  he 
possibly  have  been  the  spectator  of 
that  interview  ?  If  so — but  he  dared 
not  think  it — surely,  surely,  he  had 
not  fallen  into  his  father's  hands  ! 
Surely  that  blackguard  did  not  hold 
the  secret  which  would  spoil  Denzil 's 
life  if  it  ever  came  to  his  knowledge. 
It  was  quite  a  minute  before  he  said 
with  a  forced  laugh.  "Anyhow,  I  do 
not  feel  complimented  by  the  kind  of 
man  whom  you  suggest  resembles 
me  !     I  don't  frequent  inn  bars  !" 

Sandays  laughed.     "We  know  that," 

he  said  and  then  the  talk  drifted  into 

other  quarters,  but  Sinclair   felt  as  if 

•the  future  depended  on  the  silence  of  a 

man  whose  every  word  had  a  price  !" 

To  be  continued. 


VOL.  XVI 
NO.  4 


iCOPi 


IDUIIllllllUIWIIIUIIllUIUIIIIWIUIIlll 


CANADA 
MONTH  LY 


LONDON 
AUGUST 

» 


Fortunes  Overnisht 


vf-Tp»( 


THE  ORIGINAL  HOLE  IN  THE  GROUND  WHERE  SMITH  LIGHTED  HIS    PIPE— A  FEW  I-EET  BEHIND  IT  NOW  STANDS  THE  DINGUAN  WELL 

IT  IS  THE  SECOND  BLOW  THAT  MAKES  THE  FRAY. 
SINCE  THIS  STORY  WAS  WRITTEN  CRUDE  OIL 
HAS  BEEN  STRUCK  AT  THE  MON- 
ARCH WELL,  FORTY  MILES  NORTH 
OF  CALGARY.  MR.  RANKIN  WILL 
CONTINUE  THE  STORY  OF  THE 
OIL  STRIKE   IN  A    COMING    ISSUE 


'O  the  general  public," 
said  Henderson,  smil- 
ing, "an  oil  field  is  just 
a  bunch  of  unsightly 
derricks  and  a  beastly  smell," 
and  he  waved  his  hand  grace- 
fully in  the  direction  of  the  un- 
picturesque  erections. 

"That  may  be,"  objected 
White,  "that  may  be,  but  to  me 
and  to  others  who  have  invested 
in  these  offending  derricks,  it 
presents  a  very  different  appear- 
ance; is  a  very  different  affair,  and  I  can  assure  you,"  and 
he  nodded  knowingly,  "it's  a  matter  of  the  highest  import- 
ance and  congratulation  to  the  country  whose  geology 
justifies  the  erection  of  such  derricks." 

"I  don't  doubt  it  for  a  minute,"  laughed  the  first, 
"not  for  a  minute,  and  it  means  a  great  deal  to  me  too;  I 
have  my  little  all  in  it;  but  you  didn't  notice  perhaps, 
that  I  said  'genera!  public'  " 


By  Norman  S.  Rankin 

Illustrated  with  Photographs 


We  stood  on  the  rising  foot- 
hills of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
in  the  centre  of  the  newly  dis- 
covered Alberta  Oil  Field,  just 
south  of  the  city  of  Cajgary. 
Our  eyes  rested  inquiringly  on 
the  huge  wooden  and  steel  ap- 
paratus that  broke  the  sky  line 
in  all  directions,  whose  iron  drills 
penetrated  the  very  bowels  of 
the  earth.  The  roar  of  escaping 
steam  and  gas;  the  clank  of 
creaking  machinery  and  the 
peculiar  creaking  grumble  of  rope  strain  smote  our  ears 
while  in  our  nostrils  was  the  pungent  odor  of  90%petroleum. 
All  about  was  noise  and  bustle  and  apparent  confusion, 
that  is,  in  the  immediate  vicinity.  To  the  east,  and  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  see,  flowed  the  undulating  prairie,  slowly 
smoothing  itself  out  as  it  drew  away  from  the  mountains' 
base;  to  the  west  and  north  reared  the  Rockies,  green  and 
smiling  with  luxuriant  verdure  below;  grim,  frowning  and 


Cofyritht  1914    by  Uu  V  AN  DERHOOF-GUNN  COMPANY.  LTD.     AU  rtghu  r—nmL 


an 


240 

formidable  at  their  peaks,  witii  tightly 
fitting  caps  of  virgin  snow  pulled  low 
on  their  over-hanging  brows. 

"Lord,"  breathed  Henderson,  sweep- 
ing the  panorama  with  his  ardent  gaze, 
"what  contraptions  of  the  devil;  what 
sacrilege  of  nature  to  spoil  this 
beautiful  scene  with  man's  vulgar 
handiwork." 

"I  presume  you  are  again  quoting 
'the  general  public',  eh  ?"  put  in 
White  rather  sarcastically.  "Anyhow, 
whether  you  are  or  whether  you  are 
not,  let's  be  moving  on  and  see  what 
we  came  to  see." 

The  Calgary  oil  boom,  or  to  put  it 
more  correctly,  the  discovery  of  oil  in 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

affection  for  the  stockman;  a  bitter, 
indefinite,  relentless  strife  raged  be- 
tween them,  similar  to  that  which 
existed  between  the  sheepman  and 
the  cattleman  in  the  neighboring  state 
of  Montana.  The  sight  of  a  barb  wire 
fence  stretching  its  cruel,  menacing 
thorns  across  the  open  range  was  to  the 
stockman  as  a  blood  red  rag  to  the 
infuriated  bull;  the  wooden  posts  a 
blatant  challenge  and  invitation  to 
their  destruction,  a  challenge  which 
was  often  accepted.  To  the  solitary- 
settler  with  little  capital  and  no 
practical  experience,  struggling  to  pro- 
duce even  a  simple  crop  from  his  newly 
acquired  homestead,  the  bands  of  big- 


HOMBSTBADER  SMITH  FOUhfD  IT  TOO  MUCH  WORK  TO  CARRY  WATER  UP  THE  BANKS  OF  THIS  STREAM,  AND 

STARTED  TO  DIG  A  FAMILY  WELL  ABOUT  WHERE  THE  WOODEN  DERRICK  OF  THE 

FIRST  OIL  WELL  SHOWS  AT  THE  LEFT  OF  THE  PICTURE.      IN  THE 

FOREGROUND  APPEARS  THE  DINGMAN  WELL  NO.  TWO 


Southern  Alberta,  has  been  one  of  the 
sensational  events  of  the  year,  and 
gives  every  promise  of  developing  into 
a  legitimate  field,  a  field  with  many  oil 
bearing  wells. 

The  history  of  the  oil  field,  both 
romantic  and  authentic,  is  sensational. 
Back  in  the  early  eighties,  all  that 
country  west  of  the  Calgary  and 
Edmonton  Railway  generally  known 
as  the  foothills,  was  given  over  to 
cattle  ranching,  and  great  herds  of 
cattle  and  horses  took  the  place  of  the 
vanished  herds  of  buiTalo.  It  was  a 
splendid  country,  rich  in  eternal 
streams  of  clear,  sweet  water,  carpeted 
with  tender,  succulent  grasses;  exhila- 
rating alike  to  man  and  beast.  Its 
soft  warm  chinook  breezes  and  general 
conditions  were  both  attractive  and 
bracing,  and  for  the  breeding  of  all 
kinds  of  stock  it  had  been  proven 
unsurpassed. 

The  stockman  did  not  love  the 
settler,    nor    did    the    settler    cherish 


horned  almost  wild  cattle  that  tossed 
his  trumpery  fences  aside  in  a  night 
and  devoured  or  trampled  his  grain 
out  of  existence  were  a  constant  night- 
mare, menace  and  terror.  Truly  it 
may  be  said  of  him  that  he  never  laid 
down  his  head  in  his  tiny  shack  at 
night  without  wondering  what  the 
morning  would  bring  forth.  To  some, 
such  a  life  is  the  very  breath  of  being, 
and  difficulties  but  an  added  incentive 
to  success.  Such  men  thrive  on  dan- 
ger; they  grasp  prosperity  out  of  the 
very  mouth  of  obstruction  and  peril. 
So  homesteaders  began  to  come  in 
and  fences  sprung  up  here  and  there 
like  mushrooms  in  the  night.  In  sunny 
autumn  time,  yellow  gold  crops  made 
bright  patches  on  the  deep  green  sur- 
face of  the  foothills  like  vivid  squares 
on  a  checkerboard,  and  the  click  of 
the  reaper  and  hum  of  the  thresher 
added  music  to  the  song  of  many 
streams.  Rough  board  shacks,  make- 
shifts for  the  bachelors,  gave  place  to 


pretty  painted  cottages,  and  women 
and  children  brought  the  joy  and 
charm  of  their  presence  into  the  lives 
of  the  hard  working  pioneers,  the 
wilderness,  if  it  ever  existed  amidst 
such  delight  of  scene  and  climate,  was 
thrust  back  and  forgotten.  Farm 
wagons  rumbled  merrily  to  town  with 
heavy  loads  of  grain  and  produce  and 
came  back  piled  with  household  goods 
and  furniture  to  make  the  homes  more 
homelike    still. 

It  was  a  veritable  promised  land  of 
Canaan,  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and 
honey.  The  pioneer-prospector  who 
had  first  succeeded  in  drawing  a  meagre 
sustenance  from  the  desert,  was  now  a 
successful  farmer  reaping  a  compet- 
ency. And  while  all  Nature  smiled 
upon  them  above  ground  and  gave 
generously  of  copious  harvests,  they 
little  knew  that  Nature's  smile  like 
that  of  a  man  smihng  only  with  his 
eyes,  extended  down  even  in  the 
ground  beneath  their  feet,  and  that 
there,  riches  infinitely  more  great  and 
more  valuable  than  that  they  had  been 
able  to  attract  were  but  waiting 
impatiently  the  touch  of  discovery. 
Had  Homesteader  Smith  but  known 
what  we  know  to-day,  nothing  on 
earth  could  have  induced  him  to  give 
up  his  holding,  nothing  to  have 
abandoned  it  even  for  its  surface  value 
in  good  hard  coin  of  the  realm.  Nature 
indeed,  on  more  than  one  occasion, 
did  whisper  to  him  of  great  riches  lying 
below,  but  he  was  weary,  he  was  lone- 
some, and  he  fell  asleep  after  a  day's 
hard  work,  dismissing  the  possibility 
as  preposterous. 

Smith  proved  up  on  the  homestead 
on  which  to-day  is  sunk  the  Discovery 
Well,  which  has  flowed  oil  steadily  and 
made  its  promoters  wealthy.  It  was  a 
spot  nestling  in  the  elbow  of  an  ice  cold 
mountain  stream,  rushing  headlong 
prairie-wards.  A  gently  rising  flat  of 
a  score  or  so  of  acres  extended  to  the 
base  of  near-by  hills  under  whose 
shadow  Smith  first  erected  his  sod- 
house  or  dugout.  With  oxen  and  plow 
and  much  labor,  he  converted  the 
sloping  prairie  land  into  fertile  meadow 
to  which  he  later  diverted  a  tiny 
mountain  stream  of  water  and  irrigated 
regularly.  But  this  supply  being  in- 
sufficient at  times  for  domestic  uses 
and  the  bed  of  the  stream  lying  low  and 
it  being  tiresome  to  carry  water  up  the 
precipitous  banks,  he  had  started  to 
dig  himself  a  well,  trusting  that  five  or 
six  feet  depth  would  suffice  to  bring 
him  water.  It  was  a  hot  day  and  at 
three  feet  he  sat  down  to  have  a  little 
rest  and  smoke.  It  was  windy  too, 
and  as  he  bent  down  into  the  excava- 
tion to  light  his  pipe,  pouf  !  bang  ! 
match  and  pipe  and  straw  hat  and 
tobacco  went  up  in  a  cloud  of  smoke, 
and  the  entire  hole  became  a  mass  of 
blue  and  yellow  flame,  roaring  heaven- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


241 


I 


wards.  They  say  that  Smith  is  run- 
ning yet,  but  whether  that  is  just  a 
story  or  the  truth,  the  fact  remains 
that  he  has  never  come  back  since. 
He  vanished  into  space  and  from  that 
day  to  this  has  never  been  heard  of 
again. 

Time  went  by  and  the  cattlemen 
noticed  that  no  one  repaired  the  breaks 
the^'  made  nor  tilled  the  ground  in  any 
way,  and  they  "guessed"  that  he  had 
vamoosed.  So  they  further  cut  the 
fence  to  pieces  and  allowed  their  herds 
of  cattle  to  range  unchecked  over  the 
entire  farm.  When  it  became  known 
that  gas  was  escaping  from  "Smith's 
Well,"  and  that  it  was  a  handy  and 
comfortable  place  to  grub,  they  made 
a  point  of  getting  there  as  often  as 
possible  at  meal  times,  and  using  the 
gas  to  cook  their  bacon  and  coffee. 
It  was  a  most  effective  adjunct  to  the 
chuckwagon.  Old  timers  will  tell  you 
this  story,  with  more  or  less  variation, 
anywhere  along  the  C.  &  E.,  while 
some  of  them  add  a  great  deal  more 
romance  to  it  than  I  have  woven  into 
this  tale.  That  is  the  early  and 
romantic  history-;  the  authentic,  later 
history  is  no  less  interesting  and  sen- 
sational. 

Over  a  year  ago,  the  Calgary  Petro- 
leum Products  Company  accjuircd  by 
purchase  the  land  formerly  occupied 
by  Homesteader  Smith,  and  set  up 
their  well  within  fifty  feet  of  "Smith's 
Well,"  calling  it  "Dingman's  Well" 
after  the  manager  of  the  company. 
They  had  difficulty  in  disposing  of 
sufficient  shares  at  the  par  value  of 
$10.00  to  enable  them  to  push  the  work 
as  rapidly  as  desired,  until  on  October 
eighth,  the  country  was  electrified  by 
the  announcement  of  a  small  strike  at 
a  depth  of  approximately  1,500  feet. 
They    had    previously   encountered    a 


ANV  REPETITION  OF  HOMESTEADER  SMITH'S  ORIGINAL  MISTAKE  IS  CAREFULLY  GUARDED  AGAINST 

BY  THE  OWNERS  OF  ALL  WELLS — ONE  MEETS  STERN  NOTICE-BOARDS  AT  EVERY 

TURN,  FORBIDDING  THE  LIGHTING  OF  MATCHES 


Strong  fiow  of  gas  which  hampered 
them  considerably  in  drilling,  and 
which  they  e\cntually  had  to  pipe  to 
enable  them  to  continue  the  work. 
The  i)ipe  was  brought  up  outside  the 
bore  casing  and  thereafter  used  to 
operate  the  boiler  that  drives  the 
walking-beam  and  the  smithy's  forge 
to  sharpen  the  rapidly  dulling  drills. 
What  was  not  employed  for  these 
purposes  was  allowed  to  burn,  and  at 
night  lime  the  bright  flare  lit  up  the 
prairie  for  many  miles  around.  The 
well  then  took  the  name  of  "Dis- 
covery" and  thousands  rushed  to  get 
stock. 

It  was  remarkable  oil,  excellent  in 


I 


quality,  clear  yellow,  almost  trans- 
parent in  color  like  hock  or  sauterne 
wine,  and  officially  tested  90%  gasoline 
content.  This  means  that  the  crude 
petroleum  in  its  refined  state  tested 
90%  naphtha.  It  was  ready  for  im- 
mediate use,  without  any  refining 
process  whatever,  and  taken  directly 
from  the  well  and  placed  in  automobile 
tanks  developed  25%  more  power  than 
ordinary  gasoline.  The  quality  of  oil 
was  so  high,  it  is  argued,  because  it  was 
refined  by  nature.  Nature  forced  it 
upwards  through  peculiar  strata  and 
rock,  delivering  the  refined  product, 
and  doubtless  she  laughed  when  she 
thought  of  poor  Homesteader  Smithy 
gone  no  one  knows  where.  Experience 
pro\'es  or  has  proved  in  other  cases, 
that  oil  of  this  character,  light  oil  as  it 
is  called,  comes  from  a  paraffin  base, 
and  to  get  this  paraffin  base  is  now  the 
hope  of  Alberta.  Distilled  by  the 
Kelso  Laboratories,  and  compared  with 
the  unrefined  product  found  in  various 
parts  of  the  United  States,  the  oil  is 
pronounced  exceptional. 

Specific  gravity  com- 
pared with  water. 

Calgary  Field 734 

California  Fields  (1)  777 

Pennsylvania  Field  SOI  to  817 

Texas 835 

West  Virginia 841  to  873 

Beaumont,  Texas  !t04  to  925 

Wvoming '112  to  945 

(  alifornia  Fields  (2)  '.120  to  983 

I'pon  this  discovery  considerable 
excitement  arose  amongst  the  public 
and  all  available  crown  lands  as  far 
south  as  the  International  Boundary 
were  filed  upon.  Several  companies. 
Continued  on  page  302. 


■ 


The  Delivery  of  Dobbett 


DOBBETT  PONDERED  THE  OFFER  OVER  HIS  SCALES 

A  DRAB  little  man  with  a  drab 
little  business  and  a  drab  little 
wife — such  was  Peter  Dobbett. 
If  to  these  you  add  two  drab 
children,  the  cycle  is  complete. 

Dobbett  himself  had  a  small  round 
face,  red  pursy  lips,  large  mild  blue 
eyes  and  a  fringe  of  scanty  hair  that 
struggled  indomitably  for  foothold  on 
the  convexity  of  his  shining  skull.  He 
smelt  successively  of  cloves,  brown 
sugar  and  finnan  haddie.  Dobbett 
had  a  Grocery  Shop.  If  he  had  had  a 
coat  of  arms  it  would  probably  have 
portrayed  a  box  of  prunes,  couchant, 
with  the  motto  "I  surrender."  For 
Dobbett's  life  was  shot  through  with 
surrenders — first  to  his  wife,  then  to 
his  business,  and  lastly  to  his  children. 
And  all  this  had  left  its  mark — had 
envisaged  him  with  a  gentle  resigna- 
tion that  moved  with  a  certain  delicate 
dignity  between  the  counter  and  the 
sagging  shelves. 

Mrs.  Dobbett  was  also  small,  but 
had  achieved  a  cylindrical  physique 
that  opposed  itself  sturdily  to  fatigue. 
Mrs.  Dobbett  did  not  move.  She 
bustled.  And  when  one  says  "bustled" 
it  is  only  because  no  other  word 
describes  so  perfectly  that  combina- 
tion of  semi-suppressed  strength, 
energy  and  haste  with  which  she 
traversed  the  difficult  passages  of  her 
husband's  shop.  Puffing  about  like 
a  tireless  and  stumpy  tug  boat,  she 
wedged  herself  between  boxes  and 
barrels  with  a  confidence  that  bespoke 

242 


IT  IS  NOT  ONLY  POETS  THAT  DREAM  DREAMS. 

THE  PLAIN  LITTLE  GROCER-MAN  ALSO  HAS 

HIS  UNACKNOWLEDGED  BIT  OF  A  FAIRY 

DREAM,      SHOT      THROUGH     WITH 

FACETS  OF   BUBBLING   LIGHT— 

HIS  DREAM  OF  WHAT  MIGHT 

HAVE  BEEN 

By  Alan  Sullivan 

Illustrated  by  Marjory  Mason 


an  exact  and  oft  proved  knowl- 
edge of  her  own  limit  of  per- 
sonal   compression. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  de- 
lineate the  boy  and  girl,  except 
to  say  that  they  were  the  pride 
of  Mrs.  Dobbett  and  the  despair 
of  her  peace-loving  husband.  Al- 
ready the  maternal  eye  had  des- 
cried for  them  a  future  remote 
from  brown  sugar  and  lard .  Dob- 
bett, she  decided,  was  very  well  where 
he  was;  but  their  children — never  !  She 
invested  them  with  the  potentialities 
of  that  second  generation  which  lives, 
often,  only  to  forget  the  first.  She 
never  tied  a  parcel  without  reflecting 
that  the  act  was  invocational — it 
brought  her  offspring  a  shade  nearer 
their  emancipation. 

Had  Dobbett  fathomed  the  fact  that 
the  maternal  mind  considered  him  but 
little  more  than  the  means  to  an  end, 
it  might  have  resulted  in  one  of  those 
cataclysms  that  mild-eyed  men  occa- 
sionally propagate.  But  in  the  mind 
of  the  senior  partner  was  no  revolt — 
only  a  speechless  acceptance  of  an 
unavoidable    situation.       He    shrank 


from  being  interpreted  as  selfigh  and 
inconsiderate,  for  thus  Mrs.  Dobbett 
would  have  undoubtedly  styled  any 
effort  to  lift  his  head  out  of  the  mire  of 
dejection.  He  had  deep  self  question- 
ings about  his  children.  He  saw  them 
lose  childishness  and  become  what 
his  wife  admiringly  termed  "smart." 
He  became  dully  conscious  that  what 
was  good  enough  for  him  was  not  in 
any  way  good  enough  for  them.  So, 
rather  than  incur  an  uxorious  dis- 
pleasure he  looked  milder  and  more 
benign  than  ever  and  sought  the 
society  of  pressed  figs  and  the  redolent 
circle  of  kippered  herrings. 

But,  for  all  of  this,  Dobbett  had 
that  on  which  to  feed  his  soul — -a 
secret  garden  of  delight  to  which  he 
slunk,  weary  and  depressed,  and  from 
which  he  emerged  poised  and  fortified 
anew.  His  wife  and  children  knew 
nothing  of  it.  They  would  not  have 
understood  if  they  had .  No  one  in  the 
world  had  anything  to  do  with  it  or 
any  right  of  entry.  Here  Dobbett 
straightened  his  back,  raised  his 
eyes  and  stared  straight  into  the 
sun.    Here  he  was  emperor  and   high 


1  HAVE  DECIDED  ID  HOLD  YOUR  ACCOUNT  UNTIL  YOU  MAKE  A 
PAYMENT,  MRS.  RAFFERTY" 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


243 


priest.  It  was  the  land  of  dreams. 
Night  after  night  Dobbett  laid  his 
small,  round,  scantily  fringed  head  on 
the  pillow  and  tasted  the  sweets  of 
expectation.  Mrs.  Dobbett  would 
talk,  mostly  about  the  children— and 
complain  not  a  little  at  their  social 
limitations.  She  would  have  a  dig  or 
two  at  her  husband  and  turn  over,  and, 
in  a  few  moments,  her  nightly  'paean 
would  commence  its  vibrant  round — 
for  Mrs.  Dobbett  would  not  breathe 
through  her  nose.  The  pink  little 
grocer  would  wait  till  even  the  power 
to  expostulate  had  left  the  prostrate 
form  of  his  best  beloved — for  such  she 
really  was — and  then  he  would  smile 
up  in  the  dark  at  the  gas  bracket  and 
close  his  own  eyes  and  drift  away 
blissfully  to  an  exquisite  country 
where  there  was  no  such  thing  as 
social  position,  and  the  price  of  Oolong 
never  altered.  The  good,  the  admir- 
able part  of  it  was  that,  though  he 
plodded  through  the  day  in  soothing 
expectation  of  the  night,  once  he  was 
fairly  embarked  for  the  land  of  dreams 
no  soul  destroying  memories  of  pro- 
visions could  follow  him.  He  was  as 
free  as  a  fish. 

Now  it  happened  one  night  that,  as 
Dobbett  was  strolling  contentedly 
along  one  of  the  garden  paths,  he  met  a 
beautiful  woman.  It  was  the  most 
natural  thing  in  the  world.  It  was  ex- 
actly the  place  where  one  would  expect 
to  meet  a  beautiful  woman, and  Dobbet 
had  encountered  a  great  many  of  them 
during  previous  visits.  But  this  one — 
and  she  was  indeed  very  lovely — looked 
straight  into  the  little  grocer's  eyes 
and  immediately  he  forgot  everything 
else.  Those  wonderful  sea  green  orbs 
were  all  he  could  distinguish.  His 
memory  of  that  dream  was  that  she 
held  out  her  hand  and  in  it  was  a  small 
flat  disc,  about  half  the  size  of  a 
macaroon.  It  also  was  sea  green  and 
full  of  shadows  and  lights  that  melted 
into  each  other.  It  looked  like  an 
emerald. 

"Would  you  like  it  ?"  said  she,  still 
smiling. 

Dobbett  was  polite  but  always 
practical.  He  had  to  be— on  earth — 
and  the  habit  clung  to  him  here. 

"Thank  you,"  he  stammered. 
"What  good  is  it,  ma'ahi  ?" 

The  vision  did  not  answer  but  just 
gazed  at  him.  And  as  he  met  those 
marvellous  eyes  Dobbett  began  to  feel 
slow  fires  running  through  him.  He 
was  conscious  that  here  and  now  he 
was  getting  very  strong  and  wise — that 
nothing  was  impossible — all  he  had  to 
do  was  to  wish.  Involuntarily  he 
clenched  his  fist,  and  at  once  felt 
something  smooth  and  cold.  The 
token,  the  disc,  was  in  his  right  palm. 
Then  he  looked  for  the  giver.  Slic 
had  vanished. 

He  remembered  that  he  walked  a 


IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  DREAMS  HE  MET — ^IT  SEEMED  THE  .MOST  NATURAL  THING  IN  THE 
WORLD^A    BEAUTIFUL   WOMAN 


long  way,  hunting  for  her.  He  was 
rather  afraid  of  the  token  and  wanted 
to  give  it  back.  But  search  was 
without  avail.  He  sat  down  under  a 
tree;  wondering  what  to  do  with  it. 
In  a  little  while  he  felt  vaguely  uncom- 
fortable, and  opened  his  eyes.  Morn- 
ing was  stealing  in.  He  could  just 
see  the  budding  leaves  outside.  The 
gas  bracket  was  distinctly  visible.  A 
sharp  elbow  projected  into  his  side. 

"John  Henry,  ain't  you  ever  going 
to  get  up  ?" 

The  little  grocer  blinked  rapidly.  It 
was  unusually  hard  to  shake  off  his 
dream.  Then  automatically,  he  slid  to 
the  floor;  and,  doing  so,  felt  something 
cold  and  round  in  his  hand.  He  peered 
at  it  in  the  broadening  light — and 
gasped.  He  was  shaken  with  memor- 
ries  that  came  surging  back.  He  still 
had  the  token  ! 

Dobbett  was  quite  terrified.  There 
was  the  sudden  instinct  of  the  male 
mammal  to  confide  everything  to  his 
wife.  But — even  while  he  trembled 
at  this  discovery — there  was  some- 
thing inexpressibly  unsympathetic  in 
the  rounded  hummock  that  marked 
his  prostrate  spouse.     It  was  a  grim 


satisfaction  to  reflect  that  even  in  the 
dark  she  didn't  look  as  if  she  could 
understand.  The  thought  struck  him 
with  a  delicious  tremor.  He  had 
never  even  dared  to  think  like  that 
before.  The  thing  belonged  to  him 
absolutely.  It  made  him  dizzy  won- 
dering how  he  had  brought  it  back. 
If  he  told  anyone  he  would  be  suspect- 
ed of —  No  !  He  would  never  tell. 
His  whole  palpitating  being  resolved 
itself  into  one  inarticulate  oatii  of 
secrecy. 

A  few  hours  later  Mrs.  Dobbett 
became  aware  that  something  unusual 
was  pervading  the  shop.  In  the  first 
place,  Mrs.  Raflfcrty's  long  line  of 
credit  had  Ijcen  abruptly  terminated. 
Dobbett  leaned  quite  calmly  across 
the  counter,  and  announced  without  a 
quiver  in  his  small,  weak  voice: 

"Mrs.  Rafi^erty,  I  have  decided  to 
hold  your  accoimt  until  you  make  a 
pavment." 

Mrs.  Dobl)ctt,  head  and  shoulders 
in  a  sugar  barrel,  caught  the  placid 
determination  of  that  "I."  She  had 
paused,  immured  in  these  saccharine 
boundaries,  wondering  if  she  heard 
aright.     Heretofore  it  had  always  been 


244 

"we";  never  'I.'  She  emerged  to  the 
echo  of  threats.  Mrs.  Rafferty  de- 
parted in  a  temi)est,  from  the  black 
heart  of  which  she  called  down  the 
hibernian  wrath  of  the  ward  upon 
Dobbett.  But  the  little  grocer  stood 
looking  after  her  with  a  contemptuous 
(luiver  in  the  corner  of  his  lips  and  the 
nimbus  of  a  new  born  dignity  floating 
above  his  round  pink  skull. 

Later,  the  children  passed  through 
the  shop  on  their  way  to  school.  Mrs. 
Dobbett's  heart  throbbed  as  she 
watched  them.  As  usual  they  helped 
themselves.  The  girl  favored  prunes, 
the  boy  twisted  off  a  cluster  of  sticky 
dates.  Nodding  indifferently,  they  set 
off  down  the  street,  the  focus  of 
envious  eyes.  It  was  not  given  to 
every  child  to  live  over  a  Grocery 
Shop. 

Mr.  Dobbett  observed  them  with  a 
new  curiosity,  then  turned  abruptly 
to  his  wife. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"This  will  be  quite  enough  of  that," 
he  snapped,  enigmatically. 

His  wife  regarded  him  with  sudden 
anxiety. 

"Ain't  you  well  this  morning,  John 
Henry?  What  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?" 

"There's  nothing  the  matter  with 
me."  His  voice  climl)ed  sharply  to  the 
last  word.  "But  I  want  what  I'm 
goin'  to  have  and  I'm  goin'  to  have 
what  I  want."  His  fingers  closed 
convulsively  over  the  token  in  his  left 
hand  pocket.  "It's  time — too,"  he 
added  defiantly. 

Her  sharp  blue  eyes  surveyed  him 
with  consternation.  She  had  a  quick 
self  questioning.  Had  she  been  driv- 
ing Dobbett  too  hard  ?  She  groped 
about  for  some  new  landmark. 

"John  Henry,  I  guess  you'd  better 
lie  down." 

But  Dobbett  only  laid  his  pen  care- 
fully across  Mrs.  Raflferty's  account. 


dropped  his  chin  on  his  chest  and 
stared  back  at  her  with  the  spark  of  a 
sudden  knowledge  in  his  pale  eyes. 

"Maria,  I've  been  lying  down  all  my 
life.  I  guess  I'll  stand  up  for  a  while 
anyway." 

And  Mrs.  Dobbett,  suddenly  cut 
adrift  from  her  life's  anchorage,  could 
only  gaze  at  him,  speechless  and  won- 
dering. 

Several  things  happened  shortly. 
Mrs.  Rafferty  complained  to  Father 
Neelon  that  Dobbett  had  insulted  her; 
whereat  the  Father  came  down  and 
had  a  long  talk  with  John  Henry,  dur- 
ing which  the  latter  expressed  himself 
with  such  good  sense  and  firmness 
that  Father  Neelon  forthwith  preached 
a  sermon  in  which  he  said  that  the 
best  friends  of  the  Irish  were  those 
that  refu.sed  them  credit:  This  made 
not  a  little  talk  throughout  the  ward, 
and  the  net  result  was  that  John  Henry 
Continued  on  page  299. 


Walking  It  Off 


A  BIT  OF  COMMON  HUMAN  TRAGEDY  PLAYED  OUT 
UNDER  COVER  OF  THE  CITY'S  SHADOWS 


By  Betty  D.  Thornley 


Illustrated  by 
Helen  Haselton 


AS  everybody  knows  who  can  put 
his  stethoscope  on  the  city's 
heart,  the  doubly  filled  park 
benches  are  for  lovers.  But 
the  bench  with  the  single  cigar  spark 
burning  a  hole  in  the  darkness  and 
the  bench  with  the  one  disconsolate 
head  on  a  level  with  two  corres- 
pondingly disconsolate  feet,  and 
the  bench  with  the  girl  in  pink 
huddled  lonesomely  in  the  corner 
• — these     seats     of      solitude,      these 


desert  spots  of  lonesomeness  set  in 
a  plentiful  land  of  duetitude,  these 
are  for  the  exclusive  use  of  tired 
walk-it-offs. 

It  mayn't  be  something  you've  done 
that  constitutes  you  a  walk-it-off.    It's 


just  as  apt  to  be  something  you're 
afraid  you'll  do.  It's  possibly  some- 
thing you  couldn't  do  even  if  each  little 
maddeningly  yelling  yes-nerve  were 
to  get  permission  from  the  tense  brain 
that  now  says  no  to  them.  For  in  the 
last  analysis,  what  the  walk-it-off 
dreads  and  fights  all  by  himself  in  the 
sheltering  dark,  is  not  doing,  primarily, 
but  thinking.  It's  the  will-collapse, 
it's  the  mad  moment  of  letting-go 
when  the  carefully  built  thought-by- 


thought  wall  of  protective  soul-con- 
ventionality shall  go  hurtling  down 
into  the  abyss,  before  the  onslaught 
of  psychical  hysteria.  This  may  be 
furiously  or  calmly  executed,  or  it 
may  run  itself  out  in  a  spiritual 
debauch  of  the  emotions. 
It    doesn't    matter    much. 

Around  the  corner  in  each 
man's  mind  there  lurks  this 
unthinkaboutable.  It  may 
be  a  legitimate  inmate  of  Mr. 
Ne.xtdoor's  brain.  But  for  a 
walk-it-off  it  bears  a  red- 
lettered  sign  on  its  breast: 
"Danger  — 40,000  volts- 
Keep  Off."  What  the  thought 
is,  is  neither  here  nor  there. 
The  fact  of  the  track  it  has 
produced  fore  and  aft  in  the 
would-be  thinker's  brain 
has  rendered  it  taboo. 

To  the  man  with  the  cigar 
spark,  unthinkability  wears 
a  girl'.s  face.  To  his  next 
door  neighbor  two  stones' 
throws  cross- parkward,  it's 
just  a  word  or  two  he  heard 
this  noon  anent  the  firm's 
intention  to  drop  six  hun- 
dred names  from  the  winter's 
pay-roll. 

The  little  huddled  girl  in 
pink  holds  the  door  with  des- 
perate fingers  against  a  mere 
silly  scrawl  of  a  letter  that 
she  wants  more  than  she 
wants  heaven,  a  letter  that 
doesn't  come.  That's  all. 
Though  she  can  see  it  so 
clearly  it's  more  real  than 
the  park  bench  against  which 
she  presses  her  little  wet 
wad  of  a  handerkerchief. 

This  is  Carlton  Street,  the 
corner  of  Carlton  and  Sher- 
Ixjurne.  Your  name  is  Mar>' 
Mighthavebeen,  little  girl, 
and  you're  out  to  walk. 

See  here,  you  mustn't  sii 
still,  you  walk-it-offs,  you 
aren't  tired  enough.  Get 
moving. 

The   lights   stretch  awa> 
into  the  west  like  a  double 
chain    of    pearls  across    the 
throat  of   night.      Night    is 
kind.     It  doesn't  glut  your  eyes  with 
the   insistent   color-notes  of  day.     It 
doesn't   clutter  up   the   universe  with 
meaningless   detail    that    makes   your 
brain    ache.     It    says    a    few    strong, 
quieting,  elemental  things  and  it  says 
them  far  apart.     It  chants  life. 

People  flash  in  and  out  of  your  gaze. 
They're  in  the  radius  of  consciousness 
long  enough  to  create  a  mild  wonder 
at  the  who  and  the  whither  of  them 
without  causing  you  any  sense  of  l)eing 
similarly  observed.  Jupiter  and  Saturn 
are  doubtless  aware  of  each  other,  but 
without  curiosity. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

The  rhythmic  beat  of  your  own  feet 
on  the  pavement  produces  a  tautology 
of  thought.  Let  this  slide  into  for- 
bidden channels  and  it  becomes  tor- 
ture. Direct  it  to  the  simplicities  of 
the  casual  and  it  has  a  hypnotic  effect 


MY  lordI  here's  something  misbrabler  and  lonesomer  and  more  up  against 

IT  THAN  YOU  ARE  I 

to  add  to  the  calming  touch  of  night's 
cool  fingers  on  the  place  above  your 
eyes  where  the  ache  is. 

You  don't  want  anyone  else  with 
you  when  you're  walking  it  off.  You'd 
talk,  and  snap  the  net  that  repetition 
of  needless  nothings  is  weaving  for  you 
to  rccatch  the  unthinkable.  Besides 
that,  if  you  talked  just  now  it  wouldn't 
be  about  the  market  or  the  millinery 
opening.  It  would  be  deep  calling 
unto  deep,  and  you'd  be  bound  to  lose 
at  least  one  friend,  the  confidant  or 
yourself. 

Monotony — that's  it — mile  on  numb- 


245 

ing  mile  of  it.  Reel  it  out  fast,  beat 
it  off  regularly,  savagely,  savingly. 
Tire  yourself,  that's  it. 

One  phrase  alone  bears  hope  aloft 
on  its  crest — "This,  too,  will  pass." 
Maybe  you  can  look  back  on  other 
days  when  you  joined  the 
walk-it-offs,  close  folded  in 
your  soul-cloak,  choking 
down  the  bitter  "why"  you 
wanted  to  fling  in  the  face 
of  the  unheeding  scheme  of 
things.  Gradually  the  tides 
of  pain  and  rebellion  slid  out 
across  the  bar  of  forget- 
fulness,  till  now  the  agony 
of  those  other  dim  nights 
looks  like  a  pleasant  tragic 
play.  You  wept  and  ate 
chocolates,  over  in  some  for- 
gotten peanut  gallery. 

This,  too,  will  pass.  To 
be  sure  it  grips  you  by  the 
throat  with  a  suddenness  that 
burns  you  faint,  just  when 
you  think  the  pressure  is 
letting  up.  But  go  on.  Walk. 
Walk  faster.  It'll  go,  if  you 
give  it  time.  It  always  goes. 
Somewhere  under  the  win- 
dow of  the  beetle-cragged 
house  to  the  left  of  you,  an 
hour  or  two  after  the  start, 
you  hear  a  faint  little  call. 
It  comes  from  the  lonesomest 
outcast  of  the  city  night,  the 
interstellar  dweller  in  the 
metropolitan  system,  kicked 
and  tin  canned  from  one  ash 
barrel  to  the  next — the  home- 
less cat. 

If  you'd  met  a  friend, 
you'd  have  turned  bitterly 
down  a  side  street.  Your 
brain  was  too  sore  to  find  a 
dime  for  a  beggar  or  an  arm 
to  the  next  lamp-post  for  a 
man  who  needed  it.  But  a 
cat!  —  somehow  the  call 
comes  from  so  far  below  the 
sidewalks  of  society,  the  de- 
mand is  for  so  preposter- 
ously little  of  you,  that  you 
stoop  and  touch  the  thin 
back  that  arches  up  into 
your  hand.  My  Lord  ! 
here's  something  miserabler 
and  lonesomer  and  more  tip  against  it 
than  you  are  ! 

All  at  once  you  notice  that  you're 
tired.  You  don't  feel  happy  or  satis- 
fied or  even  safe,  but  you  have  the  idea 
that  if  you  could  somehow  catch  that 
Dupont  car,  that  one  there — you'll 
have  to  run  for  it — that  if  you  could 
find  nx)m  in  it  to  sit  sideways  so  you 
needn't  stare  at  your  vis-a-vis'  shoes, 
that  you  could  ask  cheerfully — almost 
— ^for  a  quarter's  worth  of  tickets  and  a 
transfer  down  home.  And  maybe, 
when  you  got  there,  maybe — you  could 
sleep. 


The  Unbelievable 

Girl 

By  Edward  J.  Moore 

Author  of  "The  Confidence's  Last  Tow,"  etc. 
Illustrated  by  Dan  Sayre  Groesbeck 


ON  THE  POINT  AHEAD  OF  HIM  STOOD,  SLIM  AND  GRACEFUL, 
THE  UNBELIEVABLE  GIRL 

VAN  OSTRAND  urged  the  heavy 
canoe  around  the  wooded  point 
with  strong,  clean-cut  strokes 
and,  shoving  his  weather-stain- 
ed slouch  hat  back  from  his  forehead, 
took  a  long  look  down  the  lake. 

A  gleam  of  white  in  front  of  a  bunch 
of  cedars  on  an  island  a  little  to  the  left 
caught  his  attention.  Evidently  a  tent 
was  pitched  there. 

"Funny  place  for  a  camp,"  he 
thought,  and  with  the  curiosity  of  the 
wilderness  instinctively  swung  his 
canoe  in  that  direction.  "Must  be 
fishermen  or  prospectors.  No  one  else 
comes  so  far  north." 

A  moment  later  he  drew  in  his  paddle 
and  stared. 

From  behind  one  of  the  two  tents 
appeared  an  alluring  girlish  figure  in  a 
blue  and  white  bathing  suit.  She 
picked  her  way  daintily  to  a  flat  rock 
on  the  shore  a  little  to  one  side  of  the 
camp,  stood  for  a  moment  with  her 
hands  locked  behind  her  head  looking 
off  down  the  lake  to  the  east  where 
the  sun  was  beginning  to  show  himself 
above  the  treetops,  kicked  off  her  low 
slippers,  and  then,  with  a  little  gesture 
betokening  both  hesitancy  and  eager- 
ness, brought  her  arms  in  a  sweep  over 

246 


her  head  and  took  a  long, 
clean  dive  into  the  cool 
waters. 

"Shades  of  Psyche,"  whis- 
pered the  canoeist,  "what 
have  I  struck  ?"  To  a  young 
and  susceptible  college- 
trained  surveyor  who  had 
been  in  the  wilds  for  the 
greater  part  of  a  year  with- 
out a  glimpse  of  a  woman, 
even  in  ordinary  garb,  the 
vision  was  as  a  glint  of  the 
glories  of  heaven. 

In   a   moment    a   golden 

head  bobbed  up  twenty  feet 

away  from   the  spot  of  its 

disappearance  and  a   series 

of  vigorous  overhand  strokes 

carried  the  girl  back  to  the 

rock.      She    pulled    herself 

lithely  to  the  flat  surface, 

rose  to  prepare  for  another 

plunge  and  then,  as  if   telepathically 

impressed,  turned  to  discover  the  man 

in  the  canoe  a  hundred  yards  away. 

Van  Ostrand  hurriedly  resumed  pad- 
dling to  cover  his  embarrassment,  for 
when  her  glance  fell  upon  him,  his 
face  flushed  under  its  heavy  coat  of  tan 
as  if  he  had  been  caught  at  something 
unworthy. 

The  girl  jumped  off  the  rock  and 
turned  quickly  towards  the  camp  as 
if  to  escape  his  scrutiny,  then,  hesitat- 
ing and  with  an  involuntary  glance 
down  at  her  dripping  suit,  came  back 
to  the  water's  edge  and  waited  for  him 
to  come  nearer. 

"Hello  !"  she  called  in  a  clear-toned 
contralto  after  paddling  brought  the 
canoe  within  hailing  distance.  "Hello. 
Have  you  any  milk  ?" 

Delightfully  startled  before.  Van 
Ostrand  stopped  paddling  again  in 
another  shock  of  astonishment.  This 
unexpected  habitation  of  humans  in 
the  heart  of  the  northern  forests  was 
evidently  to  bring  him  a  dose  of 
incongruities.  His  mind  flashed  back 
to  the  time  he  had  last  tasted  real, 
civilized  milk — a  black-faced  waiter 
pouring  cream  in  his  coffee  as  he  sat 
in  the  diner  while  the  train  carrying 


him  northward  had  halted  at  the  little 
log  station  at  Biscotasing.  That  had 
been   early   the   preceding   December. 

Did  the  girl  think  cows  grew  on 
trees  ?  Van  Ostrand  began  to  wonder 
if  hard  paddling  in  the  heat  the  day 
before  had  brought  him  an  attack  of 
sunstroke. 

Then  he  recovered  himself.  By  this 
time  the  sweep  of  the  canoe  had 
carried  him  near  enough  to  allow  him 
to  see  the  smile,  a  little  curious,  per- 
haps, a  little  dubious,  lurking  around 
the  eyes  and  mouth  of  the  questioner 
who  evidently  realized  how  ridiculous 
the  inquiry  might  seem.  The  man 
blessed  himself  for  an  inherent  dislike 
for  coffee  without  cream  which  account- 
ed for  a  case  of  the  tinned  fluid  being 
included  in  his  last  order  for  supplies. 
Answering  the  smile  which  by  this 
time  had  become  roguish  and  ready 
to  make  the  most  of  any  opportunity 
for  acquaintance  he  glanced  toward 
the  duffle  bags  in  the  bow  of  his 
canoe,  and  called  back:  "I  think  I 
have.     I'll  land  and  see." 

The  girl  retreated  a  little  as  the 
canoe  grated  against  the  rocky  landing 
and  her  eyes  dropped  as  Van  Ostrand, 
tempted  beyond  repression  by  the 
circumstances,  let  his  gaze  linger  for  a 
moment,  in  spite  of  himself,  on  the 
long,  full  curves  of  shoulder,  bosom 
and  limb  revealed  by  the  clinging 
bathing  suit. 

She  seemed  reassured,  however, 
when,  while  stepping  from  the  canoe 
and  stamping  in  his  heavy,  high  boots 
to  bring  back  the  circulation,  he  lifted 
his  hat  and  remarked  in  the  matter-of- 
fact  tone  of  a  gentleman: 

"If  condensed  will  do,  I  believe  I  can 
let  you  have  some  of  that.  I  told  my 
cook  to  stow  some  with  my  duffle 
when  I  left  camp  yesterday  morning." 

The  girl  in  her  turn  looked  the  man 
over  as  he  began  to  investigate.  He 
was  dressed  roughly  in  well-worn  khaki 
trousers  and  the  inevitable  gray  flannel 
shirt  of  the  woodsman.  Even  through 
the  tan  on  the  back  of  his  neck  she 
could  see  the  pink  of  the  perfect  fitness 
brought  only  by  a  strenuous  physical 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


247 


life  in  the  open.  His  big  muscles 
bulged  quite  visibly  under  cover  of 
shirt-sleeve  and  trouser-leg  as  he  bent 
to  lift  the  canoe  ashore. 

"How  will  this  do  ?"  he  said,  after 
rummaging  in  the  depths  of  one  of  the 
bags,  turning  quickly  with  a  small 
can  in  his  hand." 

She  reached  for  it  eagerly.  "Oh, 
I'm  so  glad.  That's  just  what  we 
were  using.  It's  very  lucky  you  hap- 
pened along.  Out  there,"  with  a 
blush  which  asked  apology,  "I  thought 
you  were  a  haif-breed  and  was  afraid 
of  you."  Then,  looking  down  at  his 
boots:  "You're  a  prospector  or  some- 
thing ?  Some  one  told  us  there  was 
silver  on  these  islands." 

Van  Ostrand  smiled.  "Perhaps  I 
had  better  introduce  myself.  This," 
pointing  to  a  stencilled  Jarvis  &  Van 
Ostrand,  Surveyors,  on  one  of  the 
bags,  "will  serve  as  a  card.  I'm 
the  Van  Ostrand.  Our  firm  has  been 
running  lines  for  the  governmfent 
between  townships  north  of  here  and 
finished  our  job  day  before  yesterday. 
I  was  so  anxious  to  get  back  to  civiliza- 
tion that  I  jumped  my  party  and  was 
taking  a  short  cut  through  the  lakes 
with  some  long  portages  with  the  idea 
of  saving  a  week  by  hitting  the  railway 
at  Kinnewogang.  But,"  stopping  with 
some  abruptness,  "this  is  enough 
personal  description.  You  are  evi- 
dently the  earliest  riser  in  your  camp. 
Can't  I  make  your  fire  for  you  ?" 

He  continued,  as  no  immediate 
answer  came,  "If  I'm  not  too  curious 
I'd  like  to  know  why  you  were  so 
anxious  about  that  milk.  Do  you 
share  my  dislike  for  coffee  without 
cream  ?" 


A  MOMENT  l-ATKK  UK  DRKW  IN  HIS  FADDI  K  Avn  St 


With  the  easy 
camarad  er  ie 
which  becomes 
immediate  1  y 
natural  even  to 
strangers  in  the 
absence  of  the 
artificialities  of 
town  life  they 
had  started  to 
walk  toward  the 
camp. 

"The  milk  ? 
Oh,  I  want  it 
for  baby,"  she 
said. 

Van  Ostrand 
stopped  in  his 
tracks,  shocked 
again.  Again 
too,  a  question 
as  to  his  own 
and  the  girl's 
sanity  flashed 
through  his 
mind. 

"Baby?"  he 
muttered  invol- 
untarily,loo  king 
at  her  queerly. 

The  girl  met 
his  glance  with 
a  blush  which 
ran  from  the 
small  V  in  the 
front  of  her  wet 
blouse  to  her 
eartips. 

"Oh,"  she  said 
hastily  in  evi- 
dent confusion,  "it's  not  mine.  It's  my 
sister's."  Then  in  further  explanation, 
"I'm  doing  everything  wrong  this 
morning,  but  I  can't  help  it.  I  was  all 
alone  here  all  night  and  I  guess  my 
nerves  are  strung  up.  Perhaps  I'd 
better  tell  you  about  it  and  let  you 
help  me.  I  was  afraid  to  at  first,  but 
there  seems  nothing  else  to  do." 

Van  Ostrand  was  a  little  surprised  at 
how  relieved  he  felt  as  a  result  of  this 
revelation.  But  there  were  evidently 
more  surprises  to  follow. 

"I'm  mighty  glad  I  did  happen 
along  if  I  can  help  you,"  he  said.  "But 
you  don't  mean  to  say  you  were  alone 
here  all  night."  And  with  a  glance 
toward  the  camp,  "Where's  the  baby   ?" 

"Little  Jim's  asleep  in  the  tent," 
was  the  answer.  "But  he's  due  to 
waken  any  minute."  Then,  as  she 
caught  his  eyes  travelling  down  to  her 
slimjankies:"!  think  I  wiU\et  yon  make 
the  fire,  Mr.  Van  Ostrand,  while  I  get 
into  a  drier  costume.  You'll  have 
some  breakfast  with  us — me  ?  And 
I'm  going  to  trust  you  enough  to  tell 
you  all  my  troubles." 

The  young  man  assented  with 
alacrity  and  went  about  the  fire-build- 
ing at  once.  He  had  breakfasted 
hurriedly  an  hour  before  on  another 


CLUBBING  HIS  GUN,  HE  PACED 
HIM.      "THIS  ONE  IS 


THEM  GRIMLY.      THEN  THERE  WAS  A  RUSTLE  BEHIND 
LOADED,"  SAID  THE  GIRL'S  VOICE  STEADILY 

island  four  miles  to  the  west  but  the 
opportunity  of  further  acquaintance 
with  so  alluring  a  maiden  and  a  desire 
to  solve  the  mysteries  which  accounted 
for  the  happenings  of  the  last  few 
minuteswere  much  more  thanenough  to 
draw  him  from  his  eager  rush  for  the 
well-remembered  delights  of  his  city 
home.  Besides,  right  at  hand  were 
presented  in  actuality  a  good  many  of 
those  fancied  delights. 

The  girl  returned  in  ten  minutes 
garbed  in  a  trim,  ankle-length  skirt 
topped  by  a  close-fitting  knitted  coat 
which  suggested,  even  as  they  con- 
cealed, the  recently-admired  curves. 
She  carried  a  healthy-looking  young- 
ster of  perhaps  a  dozen  months  who 
stretched  out  his  arms  to  the  stranger. 

"Here's  little  Jim,"  she  explained 
simply,  "and  he's  calling  for  his  milk 
already.  I  used  the  last  of  our  supply 
yesterday  at  noon  and  had  to  give  him 
biscuits  soaked  in  water  last  night. 
The  substitute  did  for  once  but  I'm 
afraid  I  should  have  had  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  to-day." 

Van  Ostrand  insisted  on  taking  the 
babe  while  she  gave  some  attention 
to  the  bacon  and  coffee  he  had  pre- 
parcfl.  The  little  chap  went  to  him 
with  a  coo. 


248 

"He  evidently  thinks  his  father's 
come  back  again,"  the  girl  said.  "Fred 
— my  sister's  husband — is  Jim's  great 
pal,  and  you're  not  unlike  him." 

Then  she  told  him  the  story  which 
solved  the  mysteries. 

"We've  been  on  the  lakes  three 
weeks,"  she  began.  "Fred  was  tired 
after  his  year's  lecturing  in  the  Uni- 
versity and  wanted  to  get  hold  of  some 
special  birds  and  worms  and  to  do  some 
fishing.  Madge — my  sister —  is  a  ner- 
vous thing  who  couldn't  let  Fred  out 
of  her  sight  for  a  day  so  she  insisted  on 
coming  along.  Me  ?"  in  answer  to  a 
questioning  glance.  "I  came  because 
I  love  to  get  away  from  the  roar  of  the 
city  and  to  help  Madge.  And  I've 
loved  it." 

"The  troubles  began  on  Saturday," 
she  went  on,  turning  a  little  aside  from 
his  fixedly-interested  look,  "when 
Charlie,  our  Indian  guide  and  cook, 
got  nasty  when  Fred  was  away  on  a 
bird  hunt.  Fred  took  a  flask  of  whis- 
key away  from  him  that  night  and 
handled  him  pretty  strongly.  The 
next  morning  Charlie,  the  big  canoe 
and  most  of  our  supplies  were  gone. 

"We  got  along  all  right  till  yester- 
day, hoping  some  one  might  happen 
past  who  could  lend  us  a  canoe  and 
guide  us  back  to  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company's  post,  but  the  milk  and 
other  things  got  low  and  Fred  made  up 
his  mind  to  try  to  find  the  way  back 
himself.  Madge  flatly  refused  to  stay 
here  without  him,  the  little  canoe 
wouldn't  carry  all  of  us  and  Fred  said 
it  wasn't  possible  to  take  the  baby — 
both  would  have  to  paddle  if  they  got 
back  by  night — so  I  said  I'd  keep  little 
Jim  while  they  were  away." 

By  this  time  the  girl's  anxiety,  which 
seemed  to  have  been  somewhat  relieved 
by  the  appearance  of  the  apparently 
trustworthy  stranger,  again  made  it- 
self evident  in  her  voice. 

"They  promised  to  get  back  last 
night,"  she  continued,  "but  Fred 
wasn't  very  sure  he  could  find  the 
portages  and  he  may  have  gotten 
astray.  Of  course,"  this  bravely,  while 
a  tear  or  two  ran  down  her  cheek  and 
she  cuddled  the  babe,  now  back  in  her 
arms,  closely,  "of  course  they'll  be  all 
right,  but,"  with  another  faint  smile, 
"you  won't  wonder  I  didn't  sleep  much 
last  night.  I  knew  I  was  safe  enough 
on  the  island,  but  the  noises  seemed 
louder  and  stranger  than  usual.  Once 
or  twice  I  thought  I  heard  someone 
landing  on  the  beach,  but  no  one  came. 
If  I  hadn't  had  little  Jim  to  look  after 
I'm  afraid  I  should  have  gone  crazy." 
As  an  afterthought  she  added,  "when 
I  was  worst  frightened  I  prayed  for 
help  to  come  this  morning,  and,  you 
see,  a  good  angel  came." 

"Garbed  in  the  robes  of  a  bush- 
whacker," he  broke  in,  laughing,  "and 
badly  in  need  of  the  services  of  a  bar- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

ber.     I'm  afraid  Saint  Peter  wouldn't 
recognize  me." 

"I  guess  though,"  coming  back  to 
the  commonplace,  "the  good  angels 
directed  me.  You  certainly  were  in  a 
fix.  But  I'm  going  to  see  you  out  of 
it.  I'd  mighty  well  like  to  get  hold 
of  that  Indian,  though." 

The  day  passed  very  pleasar.  .ly  for 
both  young  people.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances it  was  only  to  bt  '"xrjected 
that  they  should  find  one  ain.her 
mutually  agreeal  K-  The  baL.->,  ihiiv- 
ing  in  the  ozoni/.^J  air  of  the  norili, 
slept  two-thirds  of  the  time  and  was 
little  trouble.  The  contents  of  the 
surveyor's  duffle  bags,  idded  to  the 
scanty  supplies  left  .:  the  camp, 
removed  any  immediate  ossibility  of 
lack  of  food  and  beyond  natural 
anxiety  over  the  wliereabouts  of  the 
absent  father  and  mother,  the  girl, 
who  had  been  early  assured  by  the 
sympathetic  and  helpful  attitude  of 
her  visitor,  now  had  little  cause  for 
worry. 

Van  Ostrand,  joyful  in  the  delights 
of  looking  into  a  pair  of  hazel  eyes 
which  always  seemed  to  have  a  roguish 
gleam  in  their  depths  and  in  the 
possibilities  of  converse  in  good  English 
on  topics  from  which  he  had  been  so 
long  debarred,  gave  but  a  passing 
thought  to  his  mother  and  sisters  and 
the  pleasures  of  his  city  home  and 
lived  only  in  the  present. 

By  evening,  after  a  day  of  happy 
camaraderie,  made  even  pleasanter 
by  the  unusualness  of  the  situation, 
they  were  on  a  basis  of  friendship  which 
under  ordinary  circumstances  would 
only  have  been  realized  in  months. 

About  seven-thirty,  after  little  Jim 
had  gone  off  for  the  night,  at  Van 
Ostrand 's  suggestion  the  blue  and 
white  bathing  suit  made  another  ap- 
pearance, the  surveyor  being  accom- 
modated with  a  garment  of  a  similar 
type  belonging  to  the  absent  brother- 
in-law. 

"I'llbegladofadip,"  she  acquiesced. 
"You  popped  into  the  scene  so  unex- 
pectedly this  morning  that  I  had  to  cut 
my  regular  swim  short.  But,"  with  a 
friendly  smile,  "I'm  very  glad  you  did. 
We'd  have  been  rather  badly  off  by  this 
time,  little  Jim  and  I,  without  you." 
The  night  and  the  next  day  passed 
uneventfully,  and  without  a  sign  of  the 
return  of  the  relief  expedition.  The 
girl  preserved  a  cheerful  front  but 
occasionally  the  anxiety  she  felt  broke 
through.  Once  or  twice  Van  Ostrand 
found  her  with  the  babe  in  her  arms 
and  tears  on  her  cheeks  when  he  came 
in  from  a  short  trip  away  from  the 
camp  for  firewood  or  after  fish  for 
dinner. 

The  evening  of  the  second  day,  as 
they  sat  on  the  shore  after  their  swim, 
watching  the  lake  in  silence,  both 
evidently  busy  in  their  own  thoughts. 


the  man  broached  the  plan  of  striking 
out  in  the  morning  for  the  post. 

Your  people  have  likely  j^otten 
r'.ere  by  now,"  he  said,  "and  are  on 
the  way  back.  We'd  probably  meet 
them.  In  any  event  you'd  be  much 
better  there.  Besides  our  grub  is 
running  low.  Another  day  will  see  us 
down  to  fish  and  hard  tack,  and,"  with 
a  mischievous  smile,  "you'll  have  to 
hail  another  half-breed  to  get  milk  for 
little  Jim." 

"I've  been  thinking  about  it  too," 
the  girl  replied,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  "and  your  plan  seems  the  only 
sensible  one.  But  I  can't  help  seeing 
what  would  happen  to  Madge  if  they 
came  back  here  and  found  little  Jim 
and  I  gone.  Can't  we  stay  another 
day  or  two  ?  Surely  they'll  get  along 
by  then." 

Were  it  not  for  practical  needs  Van 
Ostrand  would  have  been  glad  to  con- 
tinue the  sweetness  of  this  new  friend- 
ship and  the  present  mode  of  life 
indefinitely  so  he  assented  without 
much  hesitation. 

The  next  morning  was  cloudy  and 
after  his  share  of  the  camp  work  was 
done  the  man  paddled  off  to  a  spot  a 
mile  to  the  west  where  he  remembered 
he  had  seen  a  stream  enter  the  lake, 
to  look  for  trout.  He  wondered  how 
much  meaning  there  had  been  in  the 
girl's  eyes  as  they  followed  him  while 
she  stood  with  the  babe  in  her  arms 
waving  him  good-bye. 

"Good  luck,"  she  had  called  after 
him,  and  a  little  anxiously,  "you  won't 
go  too  far  ?  Remember,  I'm  depend- 
ing on  you  for  the  dinner  !" 

He  saw  her  eyes  and  richly-colored 
mouth  and  cheeks  more  vividly  than 
he  did  the  brown  hackle  and  the  coach- 
man he  selected  from  brother  Fred's 
fly  book  and  tied  on  the  long  gut  leader. 
He  was  too  absorbed  even  to  pay  much 
attention  to  his  casting.  Trout  rise 
readily,  however,  in  these  untouched 
northern  waters,  and  after  a  little  the 
lure  of  the  sport  gripped  him  and  he 
climbed  the  stream's  steep  bank  to  try 
for  some  big  fellows  which  he  susj>ected 
lay  in  a  rocky  pool  above. 

Half  a  dozen  speckled  beauties  were 
flapping  in  the  creel  on  his  back  and 
he  was  zipping  the  fly  against  a  log  at 
the  further  side  of  the  pool  to  tempt  a 
giant  who  had  jumped  a  moment  be- 
fore when  a  gleam  of  sun  striking 
through  the  cedars  into  his  eyes  rather 
dismayed  him. 

"Good  heavens,"  he  said.  "It's 
nearly  noon.  I've  been  away  too 
long." 

He  urged  the  canoe  along  eagerly  on 
the  return  trip.  "I  hope  nothing  has 
happened,"  he  thought,  and  then, 
retrospectively,  "I'd  like  to  tell  her 
to-night  how  much  I  care.  But  I'd 
be  a  cad  to  do  it  under  the  circum- 
Continued  on  page  291. 


On  Account  of  Joe  Hooligan's  Jug 

THERE  WAS  NOT  ENOUGH  GOLD  IN  IRELAND  TO  TAKE  "BOTHERED  BILL" 

DONAHUE  AFTER  NIGHTFALL  TO  CHARTRES  MILL.    NEVERTHELESS 

THIS  IS  THE  STORY  OF  HOW  HE  WENT  THERE.  AND  WHAT 

THINGS  THEREAFTER  BEFELL  AN  UNLUCKY  TINKER 


IN   a   deep,  wooded  hollow  be- 
tween two  rocky  spurs  of  the 
Slieve-na-man  hills — as  lonely 
a  spot  as  can  be  found  in  all 
Tipperary — stands  Chartre's  ruin- 
ed   mill.     Two    generations    ago    the 
tumbling   stream   which  fed  the  mill 
dried  up;  and  now  the  conquering  ivy 
shackles  the  great  helpless  wheel,  and 
the   impudent   loosestrife,  unmolested 
and  defiant,  flares   and    flaunts   itself 
from  every  piteous  crack  and 
crevice.     Shunned    and    dis- 
liked, the  ruin  droops,  a  blur 
of   brown    and    gray   among 
the  leaves — a  pathetic  picture 
of  friendless  old  age. 

Some  give  one  reason  for 
this  unfortunate  decay,  and 
some  give  another  but  Sheelah 
McGuire,  the  fairy  doctor, 
who  is,  of  course,  the  best 
authority  in  Ballinderg  upwn 
such  matters,  declares  that 
the  ill  luck  which  blighted 
the  place  commenced  on  that 
day,  in  the  rebellion  of  1798, 
when  brave  old  Felix  Chartre 
was  hanged  to  its  roof-beam 
for  high  treason. 

However  that  may  be,  there 
is  a  darker  blight  dian  mere 
ill  luck  lurking  under  its 
thatch ;  the  place  is  haunted. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  of 
that;  any  bare-legged  little 
gossoon  in  the  barony  will 
tell  you  of  many  strange 
things  seen  and  heard  after 
twilight  in  its  vicinity;  and 
he  will  tell  you,  too,  that 
the  strangest  of  these  un- 
toward experiences  was  that 
which  fell  to  Bothered  Bill 
Donahue,  the  tinker,  who 
spent  an  unwilling  night 
within  its  crumbling  walls. 
How  the  tinker  was  beguil- 
ed into  such  a  desperate  situ- 
ation is  a  part  of  my  story. 

One  Sunday  morning  the  village  of 
Ballinderg  was  astounded  by  the  news 
that  Mrs.  Cornelius  Brady  had  lost 
two  of  her  fine  black  Spanish  hens, 
and  also — and  this  followed  as  a  matter 
of  course — that  Mrs.  Brady  accused 
Bothered  Bill  Donahue,  the  tinker, 
of  having  taken  them. 

Mary  McGuire,  Mrs.  Brady's  own 
sister's  child,  saw  the  tinker  only  the 


By  Hermione  Templeton 

Illustrated  by  Edmund  J.  Sullivan 

day  before  chirruping  through  the 
hedge  at  the  two  innocent  creatures, 
and  they  were  looking  back  at  him 
without  a  blink  of  suspicion  in  their 
eyes.  Well,  the  next  morning,  when 
Mrs.  Brady  went  to  feed  the  chickens. 


'BAD  HANNBKS  TO  THK  BOTH  OF  YEZ  I"  HE  CRIED.       "SO  I'M  TO  CARRV  THE 
COSSIP  AND  it's  the  LIKES  or  YEZ  AS  WILL  CONDESCIND 
TO  LISTEN  TO   IT" 

liicre  wasn't  a  pin-feather  of  the  poor 
things  to  be  found.  In  a  twinkling 
the  indignant  parish  t<x)k  fire. 

Now,  notwithstanding  this  strong 
evidence  against  him,  Bill  had  no  more 
to  do  with  the  mysterious  disappear- 
ance of  these  same  hens  than  had — 
well,  had  old  Lord  Killgobbin  himself. 
But  even  though  day  after  day,  by 
virtue  of  his  oath,  he  savagely  affirmed 


his  innocence  to  whomsoever  would 
listen,  the  parish  of  Ballinderg 
passed  him  coldly  by  with  accus- 
ing condemnatory  glances. 

One  afternoon,  about  a  week  after 
the   disappearance  of   the   hens.    Bill 
crawled     through     the    gap    in     Mc- 
Guinnis'    hedge    and    seated    himself 
dejectedly  in  the  deep  shade.     Nursing 
his  head  in  his  two  hands,  the  worried 
man  began  fiercely  debating  whether 
to  shoulder  his  kit  and  leave 
the  County Tipperaryforever, 
or  whether  to  whirl  in  and 
beat    black  and   blue   every 
man,   woman   and    child    in 
the    village    of     Ballinderg. 
As  luck  would  have  it,  in  the 
midst  of  this  bitter  quandary, 
Public    Opinion,    personified 
by  Kate  Clancy  and  her  first 
cousin,  Honoria  DriscoU,  met 
itself    in   the    highroad    not 
three    yards    distant     from 
where   the    tinker    sat,    and 
proceeded  to  settle  his  repu- 
tation. 

"Arrah,    is    that     yerself, 
Kate  Clancy?    Sure,  wasn't 
I   just  on  the  road    to  yer 
house  this  minute.  I  wouldn't 
stop    to    dhrink  more   than 
three    cups    of     Mag    Hen- 
nessy's        salybrated        new 
Chinayse    tay,    though    she 
almost    tore    the    shawl    oS 
houlding  me    back   to    take 
the  fourth  cup.     But,  to  tell 
ye    the    truth,    Kate,"    and 
Mrs.  Driscoll's  voice  sank  to 
a  hoarse,  confidential    whis- 
per,   "betwixt    you   an'    me, 
the  sorra   much    I   think   of 
that  same  new  tay.     It  isn't 
to    be   compared    with    yer 
own  for  stren'th;  s-s-sh,  she 
has  to  bile  it   ten    minutes 
be   the   clock   or   it   has   no 
more  stren'th  than — Oh,  did 
ye  hear  ?     I   came  near  for- 
getting   to    tell   ye.     Danny   Gilligan 
dhramed     Ijist    night    that    he     saw 
one  of    Mrs.    Brady's  black   Spanish 
hins  settin'  on  a  stone  be  Hagan's  stile, 
and  it  soldering  up  a  hole  in  the  bottom 
of  a  big  iron  kittle." 

Mrs.  Clancy's  lips  tightened. 
"Will  ye  look  at  that  for  proof  !"  she 
groaned.     "Isn't  it  a  thrue  sayin'  that 
murdher  will  out?  Oh,isn'theavillain!"" 

SiS 


250 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


'Well,  Kate,"  said  Mrs.  Driscoll, 
"it  is  thrue  the  worruld  must  have 
tinkers,  but  afther  that  raydoubtable 
thrick,  while  Bill  Donahue  is  mendtn' 
my  pots  and  soldering  my  pans,  though 
I  may  listen  to  the  gossip  the  villain 
brings  to  the  house  (for  sure  we  must 
have  news  of  what's  goin'  on  in  the 
worruld),  'tis  an  unfriendly  an'  ray- 
provin'  eye  I'll  be  givin'  him  the  while; 
and — God  bless  us  an'  save  us  !  d'ye 
see  where  the  rogue  is  lying  hiding  an' 
listening  beyant  the  hedge  ?  Oh,  here 
he  comes;  run  for  yer  life  !" 

Even  as  Mrs.  Driscoll  spoke,  the 
scowling  black  face  of  the  enraged 
tinker  was  pushed  through  the  hedge, 
and  the  next  moment  his  long,  lank 
body  wormed  itself  after.  Meanwhile 
the  startled  women  had  bolted  in 
opposite  directions  and  were  running 
like  frightened  hares  toward  their 
homes. 

Bill  savagely  shook  his  fist,  first  at 
one  woman,  then  at  the  other.  "Bad 
manners  to  the  both  of  yez,"  he  roared. 
"So  I'm  to  carry  the  gossip,  am  I,  and 
it's  the  loikes  of  you  as'll  condescind  to 
listen  to  it  ?  Oh,  ho,  niver  fear  but 
I'll  carry  the  gossip;  I'll  hang  the 
saycrit  maymores  of  yer  two  families 
an'  of  their  dishgraceful  pettigrees  on 
ivery  bush  betwixt  Killmurphy  and 
Ballinderg.  Out  on  yez,  ye  ongrateful 
spalpeens  !"  He  waved  his  clenched 
fist  at  the  empty  landscape.  "To  the 
divil  with  yez  !  to  the  divil  with  the 
whole  parish,  for  the  matther  of  that  ! 
I'm  done  with  yez  all  !"  he  shouted. 
By  a  strange  chance  this  sweeping 


"WILL  VE  LOOK  AT  THAT  FOR  PROOF  ?"  SHE  GROANED. 

"isn't  it  A  THRUE  SAYIN'  THAT  MURDHER 

WILL   OUT  ?" 


denunciation  met  with  im- 
mediate challenge.  Out  of 
the  drowsy  noonday  silence 
broke  an  answering  shout  of 
angry  derision  that  startled 
the  tinker.  Giving  a  sur- 
prised look  in  the  direction 
whence  it  came.  Bill  saw 
advancing  toward  him,  down 
the  narrow  by-lane,  an  an- 
tagonist worthy  of  his  steel. 
Standing  erect  in  his  donkey- 
cart  and  furiously  shaking 
his  fist  at  Bill,  came  irascible 
little  Michael  Callahan,  who 
kept  the  private  still  up  in 
Chartre's  woods. 

Now,  Bill  had  not  the 
slightest  quarrel  with  the 
little  distiller,  nor  had  Michael 
Callahan,  up  to  that  mo- 
ment, any  grievance  whatever 
against  the  tinker.  That 
mattered  little.  Every  one 
knew  that  Michael  was  a 
sensitive-minded  little  man 
who  could  pick  an  insult  out 
of  the  time  o'  day;  and  so  Bill 
understood  at  once  that  the 
distiller  had  taken  to  himself 
the  angry  shouts  and  had  mis-  "  ^'•^^ 
interpreted  the  defiant  gesture 
as  personal  affronts.  Instead  of  offer- 
ing explanation  or  apology,  however, 
the  sore  heart  of  the  tinker  exulted  at 
the  chance  of  an  adversary,  and  the  row 
was  on.  Michael  Callahan  was  too  far 
away  to  be  intelligible;  but  that  made 
no  serious  difference. 

"Tinker  yerself,  ye  chaytin',  undher- 
sized  Judy  Ascarriat,"  roared  Bill, 
"you  and  yer  swindHn'  little  pint 
measures  !  What's  that  ?  I  dare  ye  ! 
Twicet  yer  size  wouldn't  be  able. 
Come  down  out  of  yer  ould  ca-art.  Oh 
ho  !  What  did  ye  say  ?  I  niver  saw 
Mrs.  Brady's  hins.  Ah,  ha  1  Go  wan, 
ye  cross-eyed  callumniator.     What  ?" 

If  Michael  Callahan's  way  had 
tended  down  the  road  past  where  Bill 
stood,  there  might  have  happened 
something  more  lasting  than  hard 
words;  but  as  the  cart's  proper  journey 
lay  in  the  other  direction,  the  two  men 
continued  only  to  shake  their  fists  at 
each  other  and  to  shout  abuse,  until 
the  distiller,  thundering  and  lightning 
like  a  retreating  storm,  dropped  out  of 
sight  in  the  hollow  of  the  road  this  side 
of  Muldoon's  hill. 

Then  Bill  itumed  and  wiped  his 
moist  brow  with  a  triumphant  sweep 
of  his  hand.  "I'd  do  no  more  than 
right,"  he  muttered,  "if  I  was  to  tell 
the  ganger  of  the  dozen  jugs  of  poteen 
the  blagguard  has  with  him  hid  undher 
that  pile  of  fagots  in  his  ca-art.  Why 
shouldn't  I?" 

He  flung  a  resentful  eye  toward  the 
cluster  of  cottages  down  in  the  valley. 
"No,"  he  went  on  bitterly,  "I  can't. 
It  isn't  in  me  blood  or  breed  to  turn 


-  \.-^  — •' 


THE  TINKER  WHO  FIRST  GAINED .  -  .  __E  DOWN 

THROUGH  THE  HOLE  IN  THE  FLOOR 

informer.  But  hould  a  bit  1  I'll  have 
me  sweet  revenge.  I'll  go  up  to 
Callahan's  still  in  Chartre's  wood, — 
that  little  divil  Michael'll  be  gone  all 
day,  and  there's  no  wan  tendin'  it — an' 
oh,  thin  won't  I  dhrink  me  fill  !" 

He  chuckled  to  himself.  "An'  whin 
I've  had  all  I  want,  I'll  march  back 
bould  as  a  sheep  to  Mrs.  Brady's  house 
for  the  night,  an'  afther  atin'  me  hot 
supper  I'll  sit  in  me  comer  cowld  an' 
impident  till  bedtime,  and  in  the  mom- 
in'  I'll  shake  the  dust  of  this  parish 
from  me  feet  forever." 

Bill  gulped  a  sob  at  the  thought  and 
continued  in  a  burst  of  self-pity: 

"Oh,  ain't  they  the  hardhearted, 
fickle  people,  to  forget  so  soon  after  all 
me  goodness  to  thim  ?"  he  sniveled. 
"I've  mended  an'  I've  moiled,  I've 
tinkered  an'  I've  toiled  for  them  this 
twenty  years,  an'  now,  afther  all  me 
hard  worruk,  look  at  the  thanks  I  get." 

Wiping  his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his 
hand,  for  he  felt  the  general  slight  and 
insult  in  the  marrow  of  his  bones.  Bill 
hid  his  bag  of  tools  in  a  covered  drain, 
and,  taking  with  him  only  a  heavy 
blackthorn  stick,  wended  his  lonely 
way  over  the  stony  upland  toward 
Chartre's  woods. 

It  was  almost  sunset  when  the  tired 
man  reached  Callahan's  cave  in 
Chartre's  wood,  and  it  was  all  he  could 
do  to  Scrooge  himself  through  the  nar- 
row passage  which  led  into  the  still; 
but,  after  sundry'  bumps  and  scratches, 
he  found  himself  at  last  in  the  vener- 
ated presence  of  the  big  copper  vessel 
itself. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


251 


A  little  hole  in  the  roof  let  in  just 
enough  light  to  reveal  dimly  the  con- 
tents of  the  mysterious  room.  Bill's 
quick,  admiring  glance  took  in  the 
coils  of  pipe  and  the  vessels  of  copper 
and  iron  which  lay  scattered  about; 
but  what  riveted  the  tinker's  attention 
and  gladdened  his  heav>'  heart  was  the 
sight  of  half  a  dozen  fat,  satisfied- 
looking  jugs  standing  cheek  by  jowl 
on  the  cool,  damp  earthen  floor.  Each 
particular  jug  Bill  had  seen  so  often 
before  in  the  home  of  its  owner  that 
now  he  had  no  trouble  at  all  in  identify- 
ing it. 

"There  yez  are,  the  darlints,"  said 
Bill;  "six  of  the  comfortingest  friends 
a  man  can  have  in  trouble.  Yez'll 
not  backbite  him  nor  thrayduce  him 
to  his  neighbors;  but  whin  his  heart  is 
froze  wid  sorrow,  an'  there's  nothing 
left  but  a  cowld  and  lonely  hearthstone, 
'tis  you  that  can  kindle  a  blaze  in  the 
ashes  an'  warrum  the  cockles  of  his 
heart  wid  pleasant  dhrames  an'  friendly 
faces.  An'  'tis  meself  never  had  sorer 
nade  of  ye." 

He  stooped  and  liftedj^one  of  "the 
jugs  high  above  his  head.  Then, 
smiling,  he  said : 

"This  is  yours.  Darby  O'Gill;'! 
know  it  by  the  nick  on  the  handle. 
Well,  Darby,  me  bouchal,  here's  luck 
to  ye."  A  prolonged  low  gurgle  echoed 
in  the  silent  room. 

Bill  set  the  jug  back  considerably 
lightened;  he  picked  up  another. 

"Wisha,  thin,  I  will  so,  Joe  Hooli- 
gan, me  lad,  since  you're  so  kind  and 
pressing,"  he  said,  "Many's  the  time 
I've  seen  ye  hid  snug  behind  the  forge 
dure  !"  Joe  Hooligan's  jug  gurgled 
even  longer  than  Darby  O'Gill's,  and 
Bill  set  it  down  with  a  satisfied  gasp. 

"Oh,  ho,  Mrs.  Flannigan,  is  that 
yerself  ?"  he  chuckled,  with  a  rollicking 
wink.  "An'  isn't  it  a  sight  for  sore 
eyes  to  see  ye  sittin'  there  so  aisy  an' 
beguilin'  !  An'  now,  with  yer  I'ave, 
Mrs.  Flannigan,  alanna,  I'llloight  my 
poipe,  an'  it's  outside  the  two  of  us'll 
go,  where  ye  can  sit  on  me  knee  in  the 
dusk  of  the  evening;  for  who  knows 
but  what  that  rogue  of  a  Michael  Cal- 
lahan might  come  sneakin'  back  an' 
surprise  the  both  of  us  together  ?" 

The  shadows  were  already  settling 
heavy  on  the  hillside  as  Bill  sat  himself 
down  under  the  nearest  tree.  There 
was  a  drowsy  twittering  of  nestling 
birds  in  the  boughs,  and  somewhere 
far  down  in  the  valley  a  belated  thrush 
was  hurrying  through  its  evening  song. 
Bill's  gaze  roved  idly  down  the  hill- 
slofie  from  one  ridge  of  gray  rocks  to 
another;  the  dull  red  roof  of  Chartre's 
Mill,  half  a  mile  away,  seemed  to  push 
itself  through  the  tops  of  the  cluster- 
ing trees  and  to  turn  a  frowning  and 
sullen  face  toward  him. 

A  little  startled,  the  man  paused 
with   pipe  half  lifted.     Even  at  that 


DAY  AFTER  DAY,  BOTHERED  BILL  DONAHUE  SAVAGELY  AFFIRMED  HIS  INNOCENCE 
TO  WHOEVER  WOULD  LISTEN 


distance,  the  old  ruin  after  sunset  was 
not  a  pleasant  neighbor.  "Oh,  ho,  ye 
murdherin'  ould  blagguard,  ye  I  it's 
glad  I  am  that  you're  over  there  and 
I'm  over  here.  I  niver  heard  a  good 
word  of  ye  yet,"  he  growled.  "Lemme 
see,  I  wonder  if  I  raymember  the  chune 
that  was  med  up  about  you  an'  Paddy 
Carrol  an'  the  peddler.  I  haven't 
heard  it  since  I  was  a  bit  of  a  gossoon." 

Scratching  his  head  with  the  stem  of 
his  pipe.  Bill's  mind  struggled  through 
the  adventure  of  Paddy  Carrol  and  the 
peddler: 

One  stormy  night,  as  Paddy  Carrol 
drove  past  the  mill,  his  best  ear  cocked 
and  his  weather  eye  opened  for  any 
kind  of  supernatural  sign,  he  was 
startled  out  of  his  wits  by  three  agon- 
ized shrieks  for  help.  Never  doubting 
but  what  it  was  the  spirits  he  heard, 
Paddy  whipped  up  his  pony  which 
galloped  frantically  on  its  way. 

The  next  morning  however,  mis- 
doubting whether,  after  all,  it  mightn't 
have  been  a  human  voice  he'd  heard. 


Paddy  gathered  up  a  crowd  of  the 
neighbors  and  went  hack  to  investi- 
gate. And  well  he  did  so,  for  what  did 
they  find  in  the  upper  room  of  the  ruin 
but  a  peddler  lying  flat  on  the  floor, 
his  pack  ransacked  and  he  dead  as  a 
doornail.  Undoubtedly  they  were  the 
poor  fellow's  last  cries  that  had 
startled  Paddy.  Three  days  later  the 
assassins  of  the  unfortunate  traveler 
were  captured.  They  proved  to  be 
two  soldiers  who  had  drunk  with  their 
victim  at  the  public  house  during  the 
day,  and  who  afterward,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  robbery,  followed  him  to  this 
refuge  in  the  deserted  mill. 

All  these  things  drifted  slowly 
through  Bill's  muddled  mind  as  he  sat 
there  nursing  the  jug.  Presently,  to 
his  surprise,  he  heard  some  one  singing 
in  a  thick,  quavering  voice  the  lugu- 
brious ballad  which  recounted  the 
capture  of  the  two  soldiers,  their  con- 
fession, and  the  rather  harrowing 
details  of  their  public  execution.  After 
puzzling    a    moment    as    to   who    the 


262 

singer  might  be,  Bill  was  much  relieved 
to  discover  that  'twas  only  he  himself 
that  was  making  the  noise. 

"And  to  think,  Misthress  Flannigan, 
ma'am,"  he  hiccoughed,  as  he  lifted 
the  jug  and  held  it  close  to  his  lips, 
"the  sojers  kilt  him  for  nothin';  the 
leather  pouch  of  money  that  they  saw 
with  the  peddler  at  the  public  house 
they  couldn't  find  on  him.  An',  be 
the  same  token,  no  one  has  ever  been 
able  to  find  it;  though  Long  Pether 
McCarthy  says  that  if  any  man  had  the 
■courage  to  go  to  the  mill  at  night  and 
face  the  peddler's  ghost,  he'd  find  the 
money." 

"I  have  the  courage,  but — well,  why 
-don't  Pether  McCarthy  go  himself  ? 
Why  don't  he  send  his— his— "  The 
man's  mind  floundered  helplessly  in  a 
whirl  of  tipsy  resentment.  "For  the 
matther  of  that,  what  does  a  ghost  be 
afther  wan  tin'  with  money  anny  way, 
I'd  like  to  know  ?  He  can't  spind  it. 
'Tis  pure  maneness  that  makes  him 
kape  it.  I  raypate  it,"  said  Bill, 
hammering  out  each  word  on  his  knee 
and  glaring  defiance  at  the  distant  mill, 
"dirthy  stinginess  an' — an'  maneness." 

"An'  now,"  he  added  after  a  pause. 
"Mrs.  Flannigan,  ma'am,  we'll  be 
gettin'  along.  We'll  not  go  as  far  as 
Mrs.  Brady's  the  night,  acushla,  but 
we'll  stop  at  the  first  neighbor's  house 
we  come  to,  so  we  will,  an',  God  willin' 
that'll  be  Mrs.  McKinney's." 

So  saying.  Bill  struggled  to  his  feet. 
He  braced  himself  unsteadily  for  a 
moment  his  short  black  pipe  gripped 
upside  down  in  his  teeth,  and  the  half- 
empty  jug  under  his  arm.  Then, 
slanting  his  hat  rakishly  to  one  side, 
the  fated  man  zigzagged  his  uncertain 
way  down  the  hill. 

If  the  unfortunate  tinker  had  turned 
to  the  left,  as  was  his  intention,  he 
might  have  landed  safe  enough  at 
Mrs.  McKinney's;  but  with  the  liquor 
growing  stronger  on  him  every  minute, 
and  the  darkness  rising  deeper  and 
deeper  at  every  step,  what  does  the 
fuddled  man  do  but  take  the  turn  to 
the  right  and  go  staggering  down  a 
rocky  path  till  he  reached  the  dark  and 
lonely  road  that  led  straight  up  to 
Chartre's  Mill  itself  ? 

Notwithstanding  the  tinker's  brave 
boast,  there  was  not  money  enough  in 
the  bank  of  Ireland  to  have  hired 
Bothered  Bill  Donahue  in  his  sober 
senses  to  walk  down  that  path  after 
dark.  And  yet,  presently,  there  he 
stood  within  five  feet  of  the  broken 
mill  door,  swaying  unsteadily  from  his 
toes  to  his  heels  and  from  his  heels 
back  to  his  toes  again,  and  roaring 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  for  one  to  come 
to  him;  for  where  did  the  benighted 
man  think  himself  but  under  the  eaves 
of  Joe  Hooligan's  forge  ? 

"Ho,  there,  Joey,"  he  cried,  "are 
ye  within,  I  dunno  !" 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

There  was  no  answer,  and  Bill's 
voice  echoed  back,  strange  and  un- 
canny in  the  stillness,  while  the  old 
mill,  dark,  dangerous  and  secret, 
crouched  lower  in  the  thick  shadows, 
as  if  waiting  to  spring. 

"What's  the  matther  with  yez  all  ?" 
he  bawled.  "Oh,  I  know  ye're  within, 
so  ye  needn't  be  purtendin'  ye're  out. 
You  hear  me  well  enough  !"  Bill 
lurched  toward  the  door  with  out- 
stretched arms.  "Well,  whether  ye 
like  it  or  not,  I'm  coming  in  annyhow  1" 

Muttering  and  grumbling,  the  tinker 
planted  one  knee  upon  the  broken  sill. 
At  that  instant  a  bat  swooped  fiercely 
from  the  black  void  within,  and  missed 
the  rash  intruder's  head  by  a  spare 
inch. 

"Hello,  who  threw  that  ?  Sthop 
yer  skylarkin',  ye  unmannerly  blag- 
guards,  ye  !  What  !  Spake,  can't  ye? 
Oh,  ho,  wait  till  I  lay  me  hands  on  yez!" 
He  scrambled  to  his  feet  on  the  dusty 
floor  and  stumbled  blindly  into  the 
room. 

Something  like  the  cackle  of  a  low, 
malicious  laugh  came  from  the  heart 
of  the  smothering  darkness  over  near 
the  great  millstone. 

"Is  that  where  yez  are  ?"  said  Bill, 
venturing  a  few  steps  farther.  "Well, 
bad  luck  to  ye,  Joe  Hooligan,  can't  ye 
sthrike  a  light  ?  What's  that  ?  At 
laste  have  the  dacency  to  give  a  man 
a  hand.     What  ?" 

This  last  request  was  no  sooner  m.ade 
than  it  was  grimly  answered.  A 
touch  fell  upon  his  groping  arm,  and  a 
hand  cold  as  clay  and  dripping  with 
water  seized  him  firmly  by  the  wrist. 

After  the  first  thrill  of  angry  surprise 
for  he  still  suspected  that  Joe  Hooli- 
gan was  playing  tricks  on  him.  Bill 
leaned  forward,  straining  with  blink- 
ing eyes  to  catch  a  sight  of  his  captor. 
In  vain.  Neither  in  front  nor  on  either 
side  was  visible  any  tangible  shape. 

"Leave  go  1"  he  blustered  uneasily. 
"Take  yer  hands  off  me,  or,  be  me 
faith,  I'll  give  ye  one  belt  that'll  make 
surgeont's  work  of  ye  !" 

And  now  a  thing  happened  which, 
drunk  as  he  was,  should  have  sobered 
the  tinker:  as  he  spoke,  Bill  clutched 
viciously  with  his  free  hand  for  the  arm 
that  held  him  prisoner,  and  lo  !  there 
was  nothing  there.  The  viselike  hand 
that  grasped  his  wrist  was  without  an 
arm.  He  then  pried  desperately  at 
the  cold,  stiff  fingers,  but  they  only 
closed    the   tighter   for   his  struggles. 

"Lave  go  !"  he  repeated,  "or,  be 
the  powers " 

As  though  in  answer  to  the  un- 
finished threat,  the  wet  hand  drew 
him,  questioning  and  angrily  protest- 
ing the  while,  over  to  the  swaying 
oaken  stairs,  and  with  a  grip  of  steel  it 
guided  him  step  by  step  up  to  the  low- 
roofed  room  above.  In  the  darkest 
comer  of  the  silent  loft  the  hand  sud- 


denly left  Bill's  wrist,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate tinker,  helpless  cis  a  blind  man, 
sank  in  a  limp  heap  on  the  crumbling 
floor  and  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

Just  how  long  the  sleeper  lay  thus 
unconscious  is  uncertain.  However, 
he  awoke  at  last,  with  a  start,  and  sat 
bolt  upright.  A  great  round  moon  was 
pouring  a  flood  of  silvery  light  in 
through  the  one  gaping  window  of  the 
loft  and  thrusting  straight,  slender 
.shafts  through  a  hundred  cracks  and 
crevices  of  the  old  walls.  Bill  yawned, 
stretching  first  one  arm,  then  the 
other,  above  his  head,  meanwhile  tak- 
ing a  drowsy  survey  of  the  surround- 
ings. He  probably  would  have  fallen 
back  and  gone  to  sleep  again  except 
that  he  noticed  that  the  old  structure 
was  vibrating  and  quivering  from  gable 
to  foundation.  It  creaked  and  groaned 
and  strained  as  if  in  dreadful  pain. 

"Be  the  mortal  man,  where  am  I  ? 
What's  all  this  goin'  on  ?"  Bill  peered 
anxiously   through    the  half-darkness. 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  room  was 
visible  the  large  black  hole  of  the  stair- 
way, and  midway  between  it  and  him- 
self was  a  stretch  of  leaf-figured  moon- 
light which  lay  like  a  strip  of  pale  green 
carpet  across  the  dusty  floor. 

The  bewildered  man  half  rose  in  an 
attempt  to  find  out  where  he  was,  but 
got  no  farther  than  to  his  knees,  for, 
as  he  looked,  a  strange,  silent,  shapeless 
thing  rose  slowly  through  the  hole  of 
the  stairway,  and  Bill,  with  a  muttered 
exclamation  of  surprise,  shuffled  farther 
back  into  the  dark  comer,  where  he 
crouched,  wide-eyed  and  suspicious. 

Presently  the  figure  lifted  into  full 
view,  and,  notwithstanding  the  gloom 
of  the  loft,  the  tinker  was  able  to  make 
out  the  faint  outlines  of  a  bent,  quaintly 
dressed  old  man,  who  seemed  to  be 
carrying  a  sack  of  meal  on  his  back. 

"Wirra,  wirra,"  Bill  muttered,  "I 
wondher  who  can  this  be.  I  never  saw 
a  shuit  of  clothes  like  that  in  these  parts 
before.  'Tisn't  any  of  Hooligan's 
people." 

Silent  as  a  shadow,  the  apparition 
glided  across  the  room  till  it  reached 
the  broad  patch  of  moonlight.  There 
it  stopped,  and,  to  Bill's  unspeakable 
horror,  slowly  turned  its  livid  face  full 
upon  his.  But  instead  of  the  tradi- 
tional gray,  filmy  lineaments,,  the 
features  which  now  met  the  tinker's 
terrified  gaze  were  those  of  a  dead  man's 
quiet,  inscrutable  face. 

Day  or  night,  through  all  the  years 
after.  Bill  need  only  shut  his  eyps  to  see 
again  those  staring,  immovable  fea- 
tures. The  hair  was  silver-white, 
fastened  behind  in  an  old-fashioned 
peruke  and  crowned  by  a  three-corner- 
ed black  hat.  But  the  never-to-be- 
forgotten  badge  of  horror  was  a  noose 
which  encircled  the  bowed  neck,  and 
from  which  the  broken  end  of  a  rope 
Continued  on  page  286. 


HE  VOAAAN  OF  IT 

%r  (jAIan  cAdair 

C/Tuthor  of  "THE  APOSTACy  OF  JULIAN  FULKE."  "JOAN."  etc. 

Illustrated  Q>y 
K^therinQ  Southzoick 


SYNOPSIt. 

This  novel  of  English  society  opens  with  a  proloeue  showing  Robert  Sinclair  as  a  boy  in  Rome.  He  angel's  his  father,  a  cashiered  captain,  by 
wanting  to  become  a  singer,  and  is  brutally  beaten.  Mother  and  son  leave  Rome  that  night,  the  boy  regretting  only  his  parting  with  his  playmate, 
Denzil  Merton. 

The  scene  changes  to  London.  Lord  Merton  is  giving  a  box  party  at  the  opera  for  the  family  of  a  Canadbn  railway  man,  with  whose  daughter, 
Valerie  .Monro,  he  is  deeply  in  love.  When  the  new  tenor  who  is  to  make  his  premier  in  the  role  of  the  Knight  Lohengrin  come>  on,  Merton  tircog- 
nizes  him  as  his  boyhood  friend.  Robert  Sinclair.  Valerie  is  strangely  impre».sed  by  the  tenor  but  chides  herself  for  being  as  silly  about  him  as 
the  other  women  of  the  party.  Merton  tells  her  he  it  going  to  oil  on  Sinclair  the  next  day.  which  he  does,  and  finds  Sinclair  eager  to  renew  their 
boyish  acquaintance.  Merton  tells  him  that  Valerie  wants  to  meet  him,  but  he  laughx  and  intimates  the  Lohengrin's  armour  has  dazzled  her  a 
Uttle.  Merton  disclaims  this,  saying,  "She  is  not  like  that,"  and  when  Mrs.  Monro  sends  the  singer  a  card  for  her  next  ball,  Merton  persuades 
him  to  arcept.  Valerie  perversely  snubs  him.  Later  in  the  evening  a  lighted  candle  falls  cm  her,  and  Sinclair  puts  out  the  fire,  burning  his  hands. 
Valerie  attempts  to  thank  him,  and  ends  by  a  gust  of  hysterical  tears  which  washes  away  the  coldncns  l>etween  them.  They  start  afresh  on  their 
acquaintanceship,  and  she  invites  Sinclair  to  come  and  see  them.  However,  their  next  meeting  is  at  the  Duchess  of  Northshire's  musicale, 
where  Sinclair  is  a  lion.  She  promivs  him  three  dances  at  Lady  .Merton's  ball.  Feeling  intuitively  that  Merton  will  ask  her  to  marry  him, 
she  tells  herself,  "To-night  I  will  be  happy.  After  that,  the  deluge  !"  She  coquettes  with  Sinclair,  and  provokes  him  until  at  last  he  takes  her 
in  his  arms,  and  admits  that  he  loves  her.  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away,  saying,  "There  is  Denzil,  my  friend— and  yours."  She 
tells  him,  "He  will  ask  me  to  marry  him,  to-night.  VVIiai  shall  I  say  to  him  ?"  Sinclair  grips  her  by  the  shoulder  and  says  fiercely;  "You  arenx 
going  to  marry  him  I  Do  you  hear  me  ?"  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away.  He  will  not  take  Denzil's  beloved  away  from  him,  and  he 
tells  Valerie  he  loves  her  too  much  to  marry  her,  that  he  would  not  make  her  happy,  that  he  loves  his  work  more  than  any  woman.  Valerie 
cannot  understand  this  altogether,  but  he  forces  her  to  accept  the  fact  that  he  will  not  marry  her;  and  later  in  the  evening  she  accepts  DenziJ. 
When  Sinclair  reaches  home,  his  father  is  asleep  in  his  rooms,  having  come  to  beg  for  money  on  the  strength  of  the  fact  that  he  is  the  next  heir 
to  the  baronetcy  of  Abbott's  Wood,  and  Sir  Fulke  Sinclair  is  a  very  old  and  feeble  man.  His  son  settles  two  hundred  pounds  a  year  on  him,  and 
tells  him  that  it  is  only  on  condition  that  the  captain  never  show  his  face  near  his  son  again,  never  write  to  liim  or  communicate  with  him.  The 
elder  Sinclair  consents,  borrows  all  the  gold  the  son  has  in  his  pockets  at  the  moment,  and  goes  off  with  a  pitiful  attempt  at  jauntiness,  leaving  the 
young  man  alone.  Valerie,  as  Denzil's  fiancee,  goes  with  the  Menons  to  Barranmuir,  for  the  shooting.  After  niuih  persu.'.sion,  Sinclair  comes  for 
a  few  days,  and  is  shocked  to  find  hjw  thin  .in;l  white  Vilerio  h  is  afrown  Diphihcri.i  breaks  out  i  the  village,  and  Denzil  is  anxious  alrout  her, 
but  she  laughs  it  ofT.  Captain  Sinclair  turns  up,«nd  dem  mis  mi-e  miney  from  his  son.  whiih  Robert  refuses  to  give.  In  a  rage,  the  captain 
threatens  to  ask  Lord  Merton  for  a  loan.  Meantime  Valerie,  notii  ing  that  Robert  is  amused  by  pretty  Pollv  Prent,  be'ie\es  that  he  is  falling 
in  \n\e  with  her,  and  cannot  endure  it.  She  meets  him,  and  for  a  moment  bot'^  lose  their  control  over  tt  emsclves.  He  tal  es  her  in  his  arms, 
and  kisses  her  passionately,  but  swiftly  realizes  his  treachery  to  Den/il,  and  sends  her  back  to  the  house.  As  he  wai's  in  the  coppi  e  for  the 
shooting  party  to  come  up,  he  hears  something  or  somebody  stealing  off  through  the  woods,  and  it  suddenly  conies  to  him  that  perhaps  it  is  his  father. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Valerie's  eyes  did  not  stray  in  Sin- 
clair's direction  once  that  evening  and 
Robert  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that 
she  existed,  save  for  the  one  fact  that 
he  did  not  attach  himself  so  openly 
to  Dolly  Brent — but  he  was  very 
quiet  and  did  not  offer  to  sing,  al- 
though Lady  Killoe  assured  him  that 
she  was  at  his  service. 

He  sought  out  Denzil.  "I  shall  have 
to  go  in  a  day  or  so,  old  man,"  he  said 
to  him. 

Denzil  slipped  one  hand  through  his 
arm.  "To  go,  Bob,"  he  asked.  "But 
you  were  to  stay  with  me  until  you 
left  for  Paris  !" 

"I  must  have  a  few  days  in  London," 
said  Sinclair.  "You  don't  know  the 
amount  of  business  a  singer  has  to 
do  !" 

"But  I  thought  you  great  men 
always  had  an  agent,"  said  Denzil. 


"So  I  have,  but  even  he  wants  seeing 
sometimes  !" 

Denzil  was  silent  for  a  moment  and 
then  he  said  ruefully,  "I  know  what 
is  driving  you  away.  Bob — I  feel  it 
always.  Perhaps  when  we  are  married 
it  will  be  different;  I  shall  feel  as  if  I 
had  secured  Valeric  for  the  rest  of  my 
life  then;  but  now,  I  hate  to  be  away 
from  her  a  moment.  It  always  seems 
to  me  as  if  I  were  throwing  away  what 
the  gods  had  given  me  !  I  can't  be- 
lieve in  my  own  good  fortune  !" 

"But  I've  always  the  shooting,"  said 
Sinclair.  Then  he  added,  "and  I 
don't  think  it  will  be  very  different 
after  you  are  married  !"  Merton 
laughed.  "Nor  I,"  he  said  happily. 
"If  only  I  could  hurry  the  day  on. 
Bob  !" 

They  wished  each  other  good-night 
and  Sinclair  went  upstairs  to  his  room. 
It  was  a  cold  and  frosty  night  and  the 


moon  was  still  bright  as  it  had  been 
in  the  afternoon.  He  went  to  his 
window  and  threw  it  open.  His  early 
life  had  unfitted  him  for  these  luxur- 
iously warmed  rooms  and  sumptuous 
surroundings.  He  liked  his  environ- 
ment to  be  as  simple  as  he  was  himself. 

From  his  window,  he  could  see  the 
coppice  where  he  had  met  Valerie, 
where  he  had  taken  her  into  his  arms. 
His  pulses  leapt  at  the  recollection. 
He  saw  her  face,  pale  with  passion, 
and  her  crimson,  seductive  mouth  and 
the  yellow  leaves  like  flames  all  about 
her. 

And  as  he  stood  there,  he  knew  that 
he  wanted  her  more  than  anything 
else  in  his  whole  life.  For  a  moment 
it  mattered  nothing  to  him,  that  he 
could  sing,  that  he  was  young  and 
handsome  and  strong.  He  simply 
wanted  Valerie  ! 

And    there    was    nothing    between 

3ft3 


254 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


"don't  fool  yourself,  young  man,  because  you  have  a  tenor  voice  and  strut  about 

THE  stage,  that  YOU  CAN  GET  THE  BETTER  OF  A  MAN  LIKE  ME" 


them,  save  Denzil  and  his  love  for 
him,  and  his  honor  !  Valerie  would 
have  given  up  everything  for  him  and 
would  count  herself  happy  to  be  chosen 
by  him — but  Jean  MacDonald's  son 
was  not  one  to  be  conquered  by  the 
temptation  of  the  woman  he  loved. 

"No,"  he  said  to  himself,  "I  have 
enough  !  He  must  be  happy — he 
must  1" 

Denzil's  want  of  size,  his  plainness, 
made  an  appeal  to  him,  which  he  could 
not  dismiss.  If  he  had  been  cast  in 
another  mould  it  would  have  been 
different  perhaps.  Somehow  it  seemed 
to  him  that  he  and  Valerie  were  made 
of  the  stuff  that  could  bear  suffering — 
but  not  Denzil.     It  was  characteristic 


of  him  and  of  his  conception  of  Valerie's 
character,  that  he  unhesitatingly  con- 
demned her  to  suffering  too. 

He  fought  out  his  fight,  standing 
there  looking  at  the  whitened  park 
and  listening  to  the  soft  drop  of  the 
leaves  that '  were  coming  down  like 
rain  after  the  first  frost. 

To-morrow  the  glory  of  the  coppice 
would  be  laid  low.  It  would  no  more 
give  shelter  to  two  lovers — and  to  one 
eavesdropper  ! 

It  was  of  that  one  eaves-dropper 
that  Sinclair  thought  most.  When  he 
had  finally  made  up  his  mind  that 
the  person  concealed  in  the  coppice 
was  his  father,  he  had  resolved  at  once 
to  wait  two  days  on   the  chance  of 


developments.  Two  days  would  be 
ample  time  for  his  father  to  have 
matured  any  plan  of  action.  That  he 
would  assuredly  try  to  make  use  of 
what  he  had  overheard,  the  young  man 
never  doubted.  It  remained  yet  to  be 
seen  whether  Denzil  would  listen  to 
anything  that  he  might  say. 

Denzil  slept  happily  that  night, 
unconscious  of  what  the  fates  had  in 
store  for  him.  If  his  last  thought,  his 
last  prayer  was  for  Valerie — it  was 
only  what  was  the  case  every  night. 
The  only  difference  was  that  he  felt 
with  joy  that  he  was  one  day  nearer 
the  day  when  Valerie  would  be  his 
wife. 

The  next  morning  was  fine  and  dry 
and  the  ground  was  covered  with  a 
powdered  white  frost.  Valerie,  look- 
ing at  the  coppice  as  Robert  had  looked 
at  it,  the  night  before,  saw  that  now 
the  trees  stood  almost  bare,  that  they 
were  touched  with  rime.  Yesterday 
the  glow  and  color  of  passion — to-day, 
nothing  but  the  frost  of  recollection  T 
It  was  emblematical. 

But  for  all  that  she  was  happier. 
Robert  loved  her  with  all  the  strength 
of  a  nature  that  was  manly  to  a  degree. 
And  as  she  went  down  the  beautiful 
staircase  and  crossed  the  hall,  she 
heard  a  servant  say  to  Denzil,  who 
came  forward  to  meet  her,  "Mr.  Sin- 
clair wants  to  see  you  in  the  study,  for 
a  few  moments  only,  he  says — will 
you  see  him  ?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  Denzil, 
astonished. 

Valerie  had  grown  very  pale,  but 
Denzil  did  not  notice  that.  "You'll 
let  me  drive  you  out  again  to-day, 
sweetheart  ?"  he  said  to  her. 

"We'll  walk  to-day,"  said  Valerie. 
It  was  a  sudden  thought  that  she  would 
not  do  anything  that  she  had  done  the 
previous  day. 

"You  go  in  to  breakfast,"  he  said, 
"Bob  wants  me  for  something  or  other. 
I  hope  he  will  not  want  to  go  away 
sooner — although  I  feel  that  I  have 
neglected  him  very  much  !" 

"He  enjoys  his  shooting,"  said 
Valerie.  She  could  not  discuss  Robert 
with  anybody. 

"I  won't  be  long  after  you,"  said 
Denzil  and  he  opened  the  door  for 
Valerie  to  pass  in. 

The  first  person  she  saw  was  Robert 
himself— he  was  standing  with  his 
back  to  her  at  one  of  the  sideboards 
and  was  carving  himself  some  ham. 
He  did  not  turn  at  her  entrance,  al- 
though she  always  fancied  that  he 
knew  when  she  had  come  into  the 
room.  Valerie  was  a  little  perplexed. 
"I  thought  the  man  said  Mr.  Sinclair," 
she  said  to  herself,  "and  Denzil  thought 
so  too — but  it  must  have  been  some- 
one else.  I  thought  it  was  unlike  him 
to  send  so  ceremonious  a  message  !" 
Denzil  had  gone  straight  into  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


255 


study  with,  "Well,  what  is  it,  old 
man  ?"  on  his  lips.  For  a  moment,  he 
saw  no  one.  Then  a  shabby  figure  rose 
from  a  deep  chair  by  the  fire.  In  a 
flash  Denzil  recognized  him  as  the 
man  who  had  stared  at  Valerie  in  the 
inn   parlor. 

His  anger  flared  up.  "What  are 
you  doing  here  ?"  he  asked  the  man. 

"I  sent  in  my  name  to  see  whether 
you  would  see  me,"  answered  the 
visitor  insolently.  "You  might  have 
refused  me  if  you  had  not  wanted  to 
come  in  " 

"Your  name  !" 

"Yes,  Sinclair.  I  am  Captain  Sin- 
clair, Robert's  father." 

"Robert's  father  !"  echoed  Denzil — 
but  he  knew  that  the  man  before  him 
was  telling  the  truth.  Of  course,  he 
was  Robert's  father.  Denzil  knew 
now  why  his  appearance  had  been 
familiar  and  why  he  had  disliked  him 
so. 

'I  remember,"  he  said  very  stiffly. 
"To  what  am  I  indebted  for  the  honor 
of  a  visit  from  you  ?" 

"To  the  fact  that  my  precious  son 
refuses  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
me." 

"I  am  afraid  I  cannot  influence  him," 
said  Merton  haughtily — his  tone 
implied  "and  would  not  if  I  could." 

"No,"  said  Sinclair  sneeringly.  "I 
thought  as  much." 

"Then  if  you  thought  so,  why  take 
the  trouble  to  come  ?"  ►' 

"Because  I  was  in  urgent  need'of 
money." 

"You  thought  it  likely  that  I  should 
give  you  money  when  he  had  refused 
it  ?  I  know  him  well,  remember,  and 
I  know  he  must  have  good  reasons  for 
refusing  !" 

"You  know  him  well,"  said  Geoffrey 
Sinclair  very  slowly.  "My  impeccable 
son — you  know  him  well  !  I  could 
tell^you  something  about  him  that 
would  make  you  doubt  if  you  knew 
him  at  all  !" 

"You  could  not  tell  me  anything 
that  I  would  listen  to,  Captain  Sin- 
clair,"  said   Denzil   shortly. 

"But  you  will  have  to  listen — 
whether  you  like  it  or  not.  Give  me 
money,  and  I  will  hold  my  tongue. 
If  you  do  not,  I'll  topple  your  house  of 
cards  about  your  feet." 

"I  will  not  give  you  a  penny,"  said 
Denzil  and  walked  across  to  the  door. 

"You   had   better  reconsider  it." 

"I'll  not  reconsider  it.  You  will 
oblige  me  by  leaving  this  room  and 
this  house  directly."  He  put  out  iiis 
hand  to  the  \ye\\. 

Sinclair  sprang  up  and  gripped  nerv- 
ously the  other's  arm.  "You  little 
fool,"  he  cried,  rage  mastering  him, 
"do  you  want  me  to  spit  out  what 
I }  mean  to  say,  before  the  ser- 
vants ?" 

"You  may  tell  your  lies  before  the 


whole  world,"  cried  Denzil  and  gave 
the  bell  a  furious  tug. 

But  before  a  servant  or  any  one 
could  have  come  into  the  room, 
Geoffrey  thrust  his  evil  face  close  to 
Denzil's.  "I'll  tell  you,"  he  said, 
"listen  and  be  damned  to  you  !  My 
precious  son  and  the  woman  whom 
you  are  to  marry,  were  in  the  shrubbery 
together  for  half  an  hour  yesterday — 
he  loves  her — let  him  deny  it,  if  he 
can  !" 

Denzil  stood  perfectly  still  for  the 
fraction  of  a  second,  then  he  turned 
on  his  heel  and  took  a  step  towards 
the  door. 

"Turn  this  man  out,"  he  said  to  the 
footman,  who  had  made  his  appear- 
ance at  this  moment. 


"Don't  dare  to  touch  me  !"  screamed 
the  captain.  "I  have  no  desire  to 
stay  a  moment  in  this  house  !  My 
lord  Merton,  I  hope  you  like  what  I 
have  told  you — it's  true,  too — ask 
him  !" 

Denzil  had  passed  out  of  the  room 
and  the  captain,  crimson  with  anger, 
was  making  his  way  towards  the  door. 
As  he  did  so,  the  dinirtg  room  door 
opened  and  Robert  came  out. 

In  one  moment  he  had  realized  that 
the  blow  had  fallen.  If  he  had  only 
seen  the  manner  of  Denzil's  walking 
across  the  passage  without  seeing  his 
father,  he  would  have  known  quite 
well  that  his  father  had  spoken. 
Just  in  the  doorway  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  captain's   shabby   sil- 


ONCE  AI-OSE  ON  Tlllt  MOOR.  WEARImtsS  SKTTI.Kn  DOWN  ON  SINa.AIR  WITH  AN  ALMOST  PHV^^ft 
HI  HAD  rOSTPONKO  THINKING  AND  FBKLINO,  BUT  NOW  HE  KNEW  HE  MUST  GET  AW 
SOMEWHERE   AND    THINK    IT   OUT 


256 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


houette,    and    followe<i    him.     "What 
are  you  doing  here  ?"  he  asked. 

"Putting  a  spoke  in  your  wheel,  my 
son,"  said  the  captain  with  malicious 
glee." 

"You  will  leave  this  house  at 
once  !" 

"I'm  going,"  said  the  captain,  and 
then  he  let  his  fury  get  the  better  of 
him.  "Look  here,  you  puppy,"  he 
cried,  "let  me  give  you  a  word  of 
advice.  Don't  think  yourself  so 
mighty  clever  !  You  think  because 
you  have  a  tenor  voice  and  strut  about 
the  stage  and  the  women  make  a  fool 
of  you,  you  can  get  the  better  of  a  man 
like  me.  You  are  making  a  damned 
bad  mistake  !  You'll  never  best  me  ! 
Never  !  do  you  hear  that  !  I'll  be  on 
top  of  you  always  !  I've  hated  you 
all  the  days  of  your  life  ever  since  that 
white-faced  mother  of  yours — " 

Robert  made  a  leap  forward.  "You 
dare  say  a  word  against  her  and  I'll 
shake  the  life  out  of  your  vile  body," 
he  said.  "Go  !  if  you  don't  want  to  have 
your  bones  broken  !" 

He  seized  him  with  a  strength  that 
would  have  been  equal  to  holding  two 
men  of  the  captain's  size  and  thrust 
him  down  the  steps.  Even  then,  he 
waited  to  see  that  his  father  had  not 
fallen,  but  he  was  shaking  all  over 
with  rage.  He  had  quite  forgotten  to 
wonder  what  his  father  had  told  Den- 
zil,  so  outraged  had  he  been  at  his 
presuming  to  take  the  dead  woman's 
name  on  his  foul  lips. 

But  he  must  not  stay  here — and  he 
must  have  things  out  with  Denzil  ! 
He  walked  straight  into  the  study  and 
closed  the  door — he  knew  quite  well 
that  Denzil  'would  come  to  him.  But 
he  waited  for  an  hour  in  vain.  He 
heard  the  men  in  the  hall  making 
ready  to  start — he  heard  the  yelping 
of  the  dogs  and  the  flutter  of  the 
women's  gowns  and  their  delicious, 
light  laughter.  He  even  heard  them 
say  "Where's  Sinclair  ?  He  was  com- 
ing out  with  us,"  and  he  sat  still,  wait- 
ing, for  what  seemed  to  him  hours. 
And  then  the  handle  of  the  door 
turned  and  Denzil  came  in.  He 
seemed  to  have  shrunken  in  that 
hour's  agony  and  his  brown  eyes  had  a 
look  in  them  that  went  to  Robert's 
heart.  But  he  was  dignified  as  always 
— the  only  thing  small  about  Denzil 
Merton  was  his  stature.  Sinclair  look- 
ed up  and  pushed  a  chair  towards  his 
friend^and  that  simple  action  caused 
a  look  of  hope  to  cross  Denzil's  pale 
face.  Somehow  he  knew  that  Robert 
would  not  have  acted  so,  if  he  had  been 
a  traitor  to  him. 

"I've  been  waiting  for  you,  Denzil," 
he  said  quietly. 

"I  could  not  come  before." 
"Oh,  I  know — you  have  had  a  facer, 
old  man  !" 

Denzil  looked  at  him  a  little  wildly. 


"Bob,"  he  said,  "can  you  speak  to  me 
like  this  ?" 

"Why  not  ?"  asked  Sinclair. 
"When  the  solid  earth  yawns  under 
your  feet — when  everything  you  have 
,  trusted    and    loved — " 

Sinclair  looked  up— a  smile  of  won- 
derful sweetness  played  round  his 
lips.  "I  should  have  thought  you 
would  have  trusted  me  to  the  death, 
Denzil,"  he  said. 

Merton  gave  him  a  quick  look.  "I 
have  trusted  you,"  he  said. 

"You  might — you  knew  me  as  a 
boy — have  I  ever  put  anything  before 
my  honor,  old  fellow  ?" 

He  held  his  hand  out  to  his  friend. 
That  hand  of  his,  with  its  long  slender 
fingers,  like  his  mother's,  so  sensitive 
and  so  slight,  yet  with  such  a  firm  and 
vigorous  grasp  ! 

"Oh,  Robert!"  said  Denzil  and  laid 
his  hand  in  his  friend's  without  a 
moment's  hesitation. 

"That's  better,"  said  Sinclair,  just 
as  one  soothes  a  child  that  has  been 
naughty.  "That's  better,  eh,  Denzil  ?" 
"God  knows  it  is,"  said  the  other 
with  a  catch  in  his  voice.  There  was 
a  suspicious  shining  in  Sinclair's  eyes, 
but  his  voice  was  quite  steady  as  he 
said,  "That  blackguard  of  a  father  of 
mine  came  to  beg  of  you  and  when  you 
refused  him  he  told  you  that  he  had 
seen  me  in  the  shrubbery  with  Miss 
Monro — " 

Denzil  nodded — he  could  not  speak. 
"Well,  it's  true,"  said  Sinclair  after 
a  pause. 

"It  is  true  !  You  love  her,  Robert?" 
"I  have  loved  her  from  the  first 
moment  I  saw  her  at  the  opera,  sitting 
by  your  side — but  she  was  by  your 
side,  Denzil — and  you  were  my  friend !" 
Denzil  looked  up  quickly — there 
was  a  light  in  his  eyes. 

"Since  then,  I  have  avoided  her — I 
would  not  come  here  because  of  her. 
For  all  that,  I  do  not  mean  to  pretend 
to  you,  Denzil — she  is  the  woman  I 
love,  shall  always  love,  and  she  chose 
you  !" 

Denzil  looked  up  quickly.  "Yes," 
he  said  with  a  lift  in  his  voice,  "she 
chose  me  !  But  she  does  not  love  me 
as  I  love  her  !" 

"That  is  for  you  two  to  settle  be- 
tween you,"  said  Sinclair.     "There  is 
no  question  of  her  between  you  and  me. 
That  I  love  her  is  true  enough  !     That 
I  shall  always  love  her  is,  I  fear,  also 
true — but  'that  is  all,  old  friend  !     I 
want  you  to  know  this  !" 
"You  give  her  up  ?" 
"She  has  never  been  mine,"  said  he. 
"She  promised  herself  to  you — that  is 
enough  for  me  !" 
"Do  you  mean — " 
"I    mean,"    said    Sinclair    quietly, 
"that  nothing  new  has  happened  at 
all — you  know  a  fact  that  I  wanted 
to  keep  hidden  from  you,  but  you  will 


understand  some  things  better  now' 
You  will  understand  why  I  want  to 
leave  you,  why  I  was  not  anxious  to 
be  your  guest  while  she  was  with  you. 
You  will  know  now  that  although  I 
shall  think  of  you  with  love  always,  it 
will  be  better  that  when  you  are 
married  we  should  not  meet.  Above 
all,  don't  let  Miss  Monro  guess  that 
this  has  happened  !  Let  her  remain 
in  ignorance.  Our  meeting  yesterday 
was  a  mere  accident.  I  was  not  quite 
master  of  myself — I  have  repentad  of 
it  bitterly  but  it  is  the  last  and  only 
time.  And  now,  I  think  I  shall  go 
and  shoot  !" 

He  rose  as  he  spoke  and  stood  by 
Denzil,  who,  physically  exhausted  by 
what  he  had  undergone,  sat  still  where 
he  was. 

"You  trust  me,  old  man  ?"  he  said, 
hesitating  one  moment  before  he  left 
him. 

"Always,"  said  Denzil  and  Sin- 
clair went  out  of  the  door,  closing  it 
softly. 

"God  forgive  me,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "I  let  him  think  she  did  not  care 
for  me  !  But  it  was  the  only  course  I 
could  take.  His  heart  would  have 
broken  !" 

He  made  his  way  to  the  moors  and 
it  is  recorded  of  him  that  he  shot  better 
than  he  had  ever  done  before  ! 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Sinclair  had  shot  uncommonly  well, 
and  with  the  surface  part  of  his  nature 
had  enjoyed  doing  it — one  always 
enjoys  anything  one  does  well.  But 
late  in  the  afternoon,  he  began  to  feel 
unaccountably  tired  and  bored.  Even 
Dolly  Brent's  gaiety  and  pretty  tricks 
of  voice  and  expression  wearied  him, 
and  Dolly,  perceiving  this,  tactfully 
grew  silent,  too.  Suddenly  he  realized 
that  for  some  time  he  had  not  heard 
her  voice,  and  turned  to  her  penitently. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Brent. 
You  were  saying " 

She  laughed.  "Half  an  hour  ago,  I 
remarked  that  it  looked  as  if  we  might 
catch  a  storm  from  those  clouds  yon- 
der." 

"Half  an  hour  !"  repeated  Sinclair, 
with  an  appealing  gesture.  "It  wasn't 
as  bad  as  all  that,  was  it  ?  I'm 
desperatelv  sorry." 

"You  look  it  !"  she  rallied. 

"Well,  I'm  trying  to,"  he  protested, 
and  they  both  laughed.  She  held  up 
a  penny,  bargainingly.  "What  were 
they  ;  and  I'll  forgive  you." 

"I  was  thinking  that  I  ought  to  be 
in  Paris,"  said  he,  telling  a  half-truth. 
"I  sing  there  next  month,  you  know." 

"Oh  !  Then  you  are  going  to  leave 
us."  She  looked  charmingly  regret- 
ful, but  his  eyes  were  not  responsive. 
"How — Denzil^will  miss  you."  She 
made  the  little  pause  eloquent. 
Continued  on  page  269. 


Tag — You're  It 


By  Felix  Koch 


ON  BOARD  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE  BOATS,  WHERE  SOBER  JUDGE  AND 

FRIVOLOUS  YOUNG  THING  PLAY  MERRY  TOM-FOOL  TO 

THE  DELIGHT  OF  ALL  BEHOLDERS 


NOT  everybody  can  go  back  to 
childhood,  once  he  has  gradu- 
ated to  the  dignity  of  long 
trousers  and  a  watch,  or  to 
trailing  skirts  and  "done-up"  hair — 
but  it  is  easier  to  do  it  on  shipboard 
than  anywhere 
else.  Unless  you 
are  incurably  a 
grown-up,  field 
day  on  one  of 
the  big  Atlantic 
liners  will  re- 
duce you  to  a 
thorough  -  going 
"kid."  The 
spectacle  of  a 
dignified  judge 
pursuing  a  fleet- 
footed  grand- 
daughter in  the 
mazes  of  cross- 
tag,  or  of  a  pon- 
derous M.  P. 
anxiously  at- 
tempting the 
feat  of  simul- 
taneously rub- 
bing his  stomach 
and  patting  his 
head  in  the 
game  of  forfeits 
is  illuminating, 
and  does  the 
participant  no 
end  of  good. 

Once  the 
steamer  passes 
Belle  Isle,  and 
picks  up  the  se- 
rene waters  of 
the  St.  Law- 
rence, field  day 
is  as  certain  an 
event  as  deatli 
or  taxes  ashore. 

In  the  main, 
the  ship's  crew 

are  athletic  in  their  tastes  and  inclina- 
tions, and  the  Anglo-Saxon's  love  of 
outdoor  sports  manifests  itself  through- 
out the  voyage.  There  has  been 
shuffleboard  and  ringtoss  all  the  way 
across,  of  course,  but  these  are  com- 
mon-place— every  vessel  has  them. 
On  the  St.  Lawrence,  in  addition,  one 


Illustrated  from  Photographs 

must  have  deck-sports  which  are  dis- 
tinctive, and  funny  as  the  proverbial 
goat. 

Long  before  the  actual  field-day 
arrives,  there  is  a  big  placard  of  entries 
on  a  table  in  the  companionway,  where 
under  one  or  more  of  a  variety  of  heads, 
one  may  inscribe  his  or  her  name.  The 
total  value  of  the  proportion,  therefore, 
is  divided  in  turn  among  the  number  of 
entrants  therein. 

Assuming,  let  us  say,  that  there  are 
fifteen  different  events  on  this  deck- 
day,  each  event,  be  it  nail-driving  or 
bottle-walking  or  "Are  You  There  ?" 
will  be  valued  at  one-fifteenth  of  the 


BALANCIN-C  THE  ELUSIVE  POTATO 

ON  THE    SPOON    IS  NO  EASY  TASK 

ON  A  SWAYING  STEAMER 


j^ir- 


THE  GAM«  or  "ARE  YOU  THERE  ?"  IS  SECOND  COl  SIN  TO  AM  IKISH  i 
AS  FAR  AS  HEAD-WHACKING  IS  CONCERNED 

whole   numljer   of   points — say    150 — 
and  so  at  ten  points. 

Let  us  suppose  that  in  this  event  six 
persons  participate.  The  winner  scores 
six,  the  next  to  come  in,  fi\c,  the  next 
four,  and  so  on  down  to  the  loser,  who 
gets  one  for  his  trouble.  Among  the 
six   participants'   total   of   twenty-one 


points,  the  basic  ten  is  divided,  on  a 
basis  of  6-21,  5-21  and  so  on. 

For  prize,  the  ship's  company  usually 
offers  something,  and  there's  a  collec- 
tion taken  up  among  the  passengers  for 
lesser  prizes,  as  well.  But  the  prizes 
are  the  least  part  of  the  fun — it's  the 
game  that  the  contestants  have  at 
heart. 

First,   perhaps,   there  is  a  bout  of 
"Are  You  There  ?" — a  sport  dear  to 
English    sailors,    and    first    cousin    to 
Donnybrook  fair.     The  first  officer  and 
purser   are   blindfolded   for   this,   and 
stretch  themselves  full  length  on  a  big 
square  of  white  canvas,  set  across  a 
hatch    on     the 
foredeck.       Each 
clasps   the    other 
by  the  hand,  and 
one  of  them  bran- 
dishes^ a   canvas 
baton. 

";A  r  e  '  y  o'u 
there  ?"  he  cries. 
"Yes,"  answers 
his  opponent,  dis- 
guising the  loca- 
tion of  his  voice 
as  much  as  he 
can,  and  tucking 
his  head  into,such 
concealment  as  he 
may.  He  must 
never  let  go  of  his 
partner's  hand, 
but  with  this  con- 
dition, he  may 
duck,  squirm, 
wriggle,  and  pro- 
tect his  pate  in 
any  conceivable 
way  that  his  nim- 
^^^1  ble  mind  and  ac- 
^^^H  robatic  muscles 
can  achieve. 
R  Instantly  upon 

the  reply,  the  oth- 
er strikes  with  his  baton.  He  must  hit 
his  rival  directly  on  the  head,  or  it 
counts  nothing — scrapes,  glancing 
blows  and  collisions  not  counted. 
Five  times  he  calls,  "Are  you  there  ?" 
Five  times  he  receives  the  answer,  and 
five  times  he  strikes.  Then  his  score  i» 
recorded,  the  baton  goes  to  his  oppon- 

257 


258 


CANADA  iMONTHLY 


ent,  and  he  may  look  out  for  himself. 

After  the  first  ofificer  and  the  purser 
have  had  their  bout,  other  couples  take 
their  place  on  the  canvas  and  try  their 
luck  at  hitting  heads.  One  after 
another  they  are  weeded  out  until  only 
two  remain,  and  between  them  the 
champion  is  found. 

This,  however,  is  largely  a  game  of 
skill — others  are  to  follow  which  are 
less  skilful  and  more  under  the  dominion 
of  that  fickle  jade,  Luck.  Among  them 
is  the  game  of  "Driving  the  Hus- 
band." 

Almost  every  ship  carries  at  least 
one  pair  of  newly-married  folk,  and 
thev  are  always  the  ones  requisitioned 
to  olay  a  star  part  in  this  game.  In 
default  of  bride  and  groom,  any  couple 
married  less  than  five  years  may  join 
the   merrymakers. 

For  this  event,  the  steward  is  invited 


the  voyage,  it  amuses  his  friends  to 
behold  him  driving  his  wife  at  last. 

Women,  in  fact,  get  full  opportunity 
to  show  their  prowess  in  these  field 
sports.  For  example,  it's  common 
report  that  a  woman  can't  drive  a  nail. 
Wait  until  you  see  her  on  shipboard  ! 

The  delighted  sailors  produce  a 
plank  of  tough  wood  into  which  a 
number  of  huge  spikes  have  been  set 
just  far  enough  to  keep  them  standing. 
A  sturdy  bluejacket  is  told  off  to  hold 
the  plank  firm,  and  milady  advances, 
hatchet  in  hand,  to  drive  the  obstinate 
spike.  It  must  go  into  the  tough  oak, 
up  to  its  head,  in  the  least  possible 
number  of  blows.  Every  little  bit  of  a 
nib,  every  push  with  the  hatchet  to 
straighten  the  errant  nail,  counts  as  a 
blow.  Sometimes  the  skill  of  the 
women  surprises  the  onlookers.  They 
grasp   the   hatchet   scientifically,   heft 


WHO  SAYS  A  WOMAN  CAN*T  DRIVE  A  NAIL  ?      WAIT  TILL  YOU   SEE  HER  ON  SHIP  BOARD 


to  produce  a  lot  of  large,  heavy  empty 
bottles — stout  and  ale-bottles  usually. 
These  are  set  up  in  irregular  formation 
on  the  deck,  a  course  is  cleared,  and  the 
husbands  harnessed.  A  piece  of  rope 
about  each  upper  arm,  with  reins 
attached,  form  the  harness;  a  handker- 
chief is  tied  about  his  eyes;  and  guided 
only  by  jerks  of  the  reins,  he  is  driven 
by  his  wife  in  and  out  among  the 
bottles  to  the  end  of  the  course.  The 
one  who  upsets  the  least  number  is  the 
winner.  Afterwards,  the  wife  is  blind- 
folded, and  the  husband  takes  his  turn 
at  driving  her,  amid  a  fire  of  jokes  as 
to  who  is  the  better  driver  of  the  pair. 
Particularly  when  some  man  has  shown 
himself   an   obedient   husband    during 


it  delicately  twice  or  thrice  to  get  the 
exact  balance  of  the  weapon,  and — 
bang  !  bang  !  bang  1  the  spike  goes 
down  to  its  appointed  socket  as  if 
"Chips,"  the  carpenter,  were  himself 
behind  the  blows.  Again,  the  sur- 
prise is  in  the  Opposite  direction — but 
either  way  the  contest  is  amusing  for 
everybody. 

But  if  the  nail-driving  is  funny,  the 
whistle-and-biscuit  race  is  enough  to 
make  you  split  your  sides.  Men  and 
women  enter  for  this  event.  Then  the 
purser  draws  by  lot  a  man's  name  and  a 
woman's  who  thereupon  become  part- 
ners. 

Far  at  one  end  of  the  deck  stands  the 
feminine  half  of  the  team — far  at  the 


other  end  in  racing  position,  stands  her 
masculine  partner.  A  sailor  presents 
each  woman  with  a  piece  of  paper,  a 
pencil,  and  a  huge  sea-biscuit.  An- 
other sailor  gives  each  man  a  slip  of 
paper  with  a  familiar  tune  written 
upon  it — "Annie  Laurie,"  "Old  Black 
Joe,"  "Rule  Britannia,"  and  the  like. 

At  a  signal,  the  men  are  off.  They 
rush  down  the  deck,  pell-mell,  to  where 
their  partners  await  them,  holding  out 
at  arm'.s-length  the  biscuit.  Hastily 
they  snatch  it,  and  proceed  to  devour 
it  against  time.  Some  crush  it  in  their 
hands,  reducing  it  to  crumbs  which 
they  shovel  into  their  mouths.  Others 
bite  great  semi-circles  from  the  cracker, 
and  catch  the  fragments  to  be  devoured 
later — for  every  morsel  may  be  dry, 
but  it  must  be  swallowed.  Did  you 
ever  try  to  eat  a  hard,  dry,  tough  sea- 
biscuit  without  any  artificial  moistener? 

Then  comes  the  funny  part — fun- 
niest thing  you  ever  saw !  Their 
throats  dried  with  the  sea-biscuit,  their 
lips  parched,  their  palates  like^'ise,  and 
stray  crumbs  of  cracker  getting  into 
the  way  of  their  whistle,  each  man 
proceeds  to  render,  each  to  his  lady 
fair,  his  own  particular  melody,  and 
she  must  guess  from  his  pipings  what 
tune  it  is.  Try  as  he  will,  he  can't 
make  her  guess  it.  In  the  frantic  run 
headlong  down  the  deck,  he  has 
remembered  the  general  up-and-down- 
ness  of  the  melody,  and  now,  choking 
to  death,  without  a  bit  of  lubricant  left 
in  his  thirsty  mouth,  he  struggles  with 
"Oh,  Where  and  Oh  Where  Has  My 
Highland  Laddie  Gone  ?"  or  the  acci- 
dentals of  "Hark,  Hark  the  Lark  !" 
while  she  listens,  anxiously  trying  to 
detect  a  familiar  phrase. 

The  more  pathetic  the  attempt,  the 
greater  fun,  of  course,  for  the  onlookers. 
By  and  by  one  girl  guesses  aright, 
writes  the  title  on  her  slip  of  paper 
instantly  locks  arms  with  her  partner, 
and  together  they  dash  up  the  deck  to 
the  start,  winners  in  the  contest. 
Other  couples  follow,  and  the  last  one 
is  left  to  find  that  while  he  thinks  he 
has  been  whistling  "Rule  Britannia," 
he  has  actually,  by  a  trick  of  the  memo- 
ry, been  emitting  a  remote  resemb- 
lance to  "A  Life  on  the  Ocean  Wave." 

Another  race,  with  a  flavor  of  the 
practical  about  it,  is  the  life-belt  adjust- 
ing contest.  A  man  and  woman  are 
partners  in  this,  also,  and  are  placed  at 
opposite  ends  of  the  deck,  with  a  life- 
belt extended  ready  for  application. 
At  a  signal,  each  rushes  towards  the 
other,  ties  and  secures  the  life-belt  as 
he  or  she  would,  were  the  ship  in 
actual  danger  of  sinking, — and  get 
more  in  each  others'  way  in  the  process 
than  you  could  believe  two  human 
beings  capable  of  doing.  A  sailor  acts 
as  judge  and  the  winning  couple  is 
given  points  for  neatness,  security,  and  ■ 
speed. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


259 


Still  another  is  the  potato-and- 
spoon  contest.  The  potato  race  is 
always  funny,  but  never  more  so  than 
at  sea,  where  the  motion  of  the  ship 
sends  the  elusive  tuber  helter-skelter 
off  the  spoon  and  rolling  gaily  into 
inaccessible  corners.  The  contestants 
must  raise  the  potato  on  the  kitchen 
spoon  which  is  their  sole  equipment, 
bear  it  the  length  of  the  deck,  and 
deposit  it  in  the  waiting  bucket. 
Each  person  must  gather,  say,  six 
tubers  and  land  them  safely  in  the 
least  possible  time,  and  the  one  coming 
in  first  is,  of  course,  the  winner. 

With  various  ships,  naturally,  the 
programme  varies.  Passengers  intro- 
duce novelties,  and  the  ship's  com- 
pany always  have  a  crack  team  special- 
izing in  some  particular  event.  On 
one  voyage  an  indoor  track  meet  was 
organized,  which  bore  about  the  same 
relation  to  regular  track  athletics  that 
tiddledy-winks  does  to  a  smashing 
game  of  polo.  Putting  the  shot  was 
represented  by  a  downy  breastfeather 
extracted  from  one  of  the  ship's  fowls, 
weighted  at  the  quill  end  with  a  tiny 
blob  of  sealing  wax,  and  cast  the 
farthest  possible  distance  into  a  bulls- 
eye  chalked  on  the  deck.  A  nice  hand, 
and  an  estimating  eye  were  required 
for  this  feat.  The  marathon  was 
parodied  by  a  course  laid  out  along  the 
deck.  The  athletic  competitors  gravely 
moistened  their  shoes,  stuck  a  sheet  of 
paper  on  the  bottom,  and  raced  around 
the  deck  in  an  effort  to  complete  the 
run  without  losing  the  sheet  of  paper 
from  either  foot.  Pole-vaulting  required 
a  toothpick  and  a  thread,  placed  a  few 


TO  THE  ON-COMING  CO.N'TESTANT,  THE  SEA-BISCUITS  LOOM  UP  AS  LARGB  AS  LIFE-PRESERVERS, 

AND  WHILE  HE  RUNS  HE  FRANTICALLY  TRIES  TO  RBCOLLECT  IHB 

AIR  OF  "OLD  BLACK  JOE" 


inches  above  the  floor.  The  vaulter 
had  to  leap  over  the  thread  in  proper 
form,  without  breaking  the  toothpick 
or  lifting  it  off  the  floor  until  the  jump 
was  completed — and  so  on,  and  so  on. 
Then  there  are  the  trick  feats,  ap- 
parently simple  of  execution,  but  with 
some  hidden  trick  of  balance,  gravity 


RACING  ACAINtT  TIMK  IN  A  I  tFF.-BCLT  ADJUSTING    CONTRST- 


-THE  WINNING  COUn.1 


or  the  like  in  them  to  check  their  per- 
formance. The  optimistic  endeavorer 
starts  out  to  perform  them  in  high 
feather,  amid  the  amueed  circle  of  on- 
lookers who  are  "wise." 

For  instance,  there  is  the  innocent- 
looking  trick  of  the  wall  and  the  com- 
mon kitchen  chair.  The  latter  is  placed 
lightly  against  the  wall  in  its  ordin;ir\' 
position.  The  hopeful  strong  man, 
whose  task  it  is  to  lift  itby  even  so  much 
as  an  inch,  places  himself  in  a  bent 
position  over  It,  his  head  resting  against 
the  wall,  and  his  feet  set  one  foot's 
length  back  from  tiie  back  legs  of  the 
chaif.  In  this  position,  try  to  lift  that 
light-built  chair.  Hoisting  yourself  by 
your  boot -straps  is  nothing  to  it.  It 
sounds  simple  and  it  looks  simple,  but 
in  it  there  is  a  trick  of  balance  that 
makes  it  impossible  for  the  slightest 
leverage  to  be  exercised. 

Physical  conundrums  create  amuse- 
ment. Placing  one  hand  on  your  body 
in  such  a  position  that  the  other  hand 
caiuiot  touch  it  is  typiail — the  spot  is, 
of  course,  on  the  other  arm's  elbow, 
but  few  people  will  think  that  out. 

But  whatever  is  the  programme,  the 
deck-sports  day  is  always  a  red-letter 
one  in  the  voyage,  and  nobody  enjoys 
the  foolishness  more  than  the  dignified 
grandfathers  and  grandmothers  who 
slip  off  the  years,  and  return  to  child- 
hood again.  People  look  back  to  it 
with  merriment  when  other  events  are 
forgotten,  and  recall  one  another's 
parts  in  the  ship's  sfwrts,  when  they 
meet,  even  though  it  be  a  decade  after. 


That  Promise  to  Pa 

WHEREIN  THE  POWERS  OF  DARKNESS  RANGE  THEMSELVES  ON  AMELIA'S 
SIDE  AND  ADVOCATE  THE  HIGHER  EDUCATION 

OF  WOMEN 


By  Maravene  Kennedy  Thompson 


U 


.ON'T     you     be    askin'    any 

questions    to-night,    Amely. 

Do  y'  hear?  'Tain't  a  meetin' 

for   young  folks.     You  was 

asked  only  so's  I  could  have  company 

goin'  and  comin'.  " 

Mrs.  Elliot  drew  her  heavy  brocade 
shawl  tightly  about  her  angular 
shoulders  as  she  addressed  "Amely." 
There  was  a  half-fearful  expression  in 
her  colorless  eyes;  an  uncertain  settling 
of  her  thin  lips  on  this  particular  occa- 
sion. Her  bony  hands  trembled  as  she 
drew  on  her  mittens. 

"If  Pa  comes,  I'll  ask  him  one 
question, ' '  said  Amelia,  in  a  slow,  defiant 
voice.  "I'll  ask  him  if  he's  resting 
content  while  his  only  child  is  denied 
an  education  befitting  an  Elliot.  I 
don't  believe  he  is  content,"  she  con- 
tinued in  louder,  higher  key. 

Mrs.  Elliot  met  her  daughter's  chal- 
lenging words  with  a  stern,  "Get  on 
your  mittens.  We  don't  want  to  keep 
'em  waitin'.  " 

Both  glanced  regretfully  around  the 
cheerful  sitting  room  before  they 
started  out.  The  big  base  burner  stove 
threw  out  an  inviting  warmth,  its  bed 
of  coals  glowing  cheerfully  red  through 
the  mica  doors;  the  high  cushioned 
rockers  on  either  side  the  centre  table 
extended  appealing  arms;  the  big 
cherry  bedstead,  with  its  high  feather 
bed  under  a  red  and  white  coverlet, 
bespoke  snug  comfort.  An  icy  blast 
met  them  as  they  opened  the  front 
door.  Mrs.  Elliot  closed  it  quickly 
and  stepped  back  into  the  room ;  she 
turned  on  the  lower  draft  of  the  stove  a 
little  further,  then  raised  the  cover  of 
the  coal  hopper  and  peered  in. 

"It's  full,"  vouchsafed  Amelia.  "I 
put  in  two  scuttles.  I  filled  the  coalhod 
too." 

"It  needs  to  be  full,"  returned  her 
mother  grimly.  "This  kind  of  weather 
licks  the  coal  up  like  kindlin'  wood. 
It's  the  coldest  night  we've  had." 

The  crunch  of  the  frozen  snow  under 
their  feet  was  the  only  sound  as  they 
slowly  plodded  along  in  the  middle  of 
the ,  road — the  only  broken  path — to 
the  other  end  of  the  town.  There  was 
repressed  excitement  on  both  their 
faces.  They  were  going  to  a  spirit- 
ualistic meeting — going  secretly;  fear- 
ful, not  only  of  what  the  minister  and 

260 


IF  PA  COMES,  I  LL  ASK  HIM  ONE  QUESTION,      SAID    AMELY 

IN  A  SLOW,  DEFIANT  VOICE.      "  I'lL  ASK  HIM  IF  HE  IS 

RESTIN'  content  while  HIS  ONLY  CHILD  IS 

DENIED  THE  EDUCATION  BEFITTIN' 

AN    ELLIOTT." 


some  of  the  church  folks  might  say-,  but 
fearful  of  what  "messages"  the  "spirits" 
might  ha^■e  for  them. 

It  was  not  a  public  meeting.  The 
"medium"  was  a  cousin  of  Mrs. 
Elliot's  deceased  brother's  wife.  She 
had  a  place  in  Boston  where  she  gave 
her  sittings;  her  visit  to  Cresston  was 
only  for  rest.  The  invited  guests,  a 
few  friends  and  relatives  of  the 
hostess,  were  already  in  their  places 
when  the  Elliots  arrived.  The  medium 
sat    at    one    end    of   the  dining-room 


table,  with  three  women  on  either 
side.  On  tip-toe  and  with  bated 
breath  Mrs.  Elliot  and  Amelia  found 
the  places  reserved  for  them  at  the 
end  opposite  the  medium.  The 
medium  was  a  big,  sallow  woman 
with  puffy  eye-lids  over  bold  black 
eyes.  Her  features  were  coarse,  a 
good  sized  mustache  on  a  square-cut 
lip  giving  added  heaviness  to  her 
face.  But  it  was  an  impressive 
heaviness,  in  striking  contrast  to  the 
ascetic  faces  of  the  women  sur- 
rounding her — plain  good  country 
women,  bom  and  bred  in  the  little 
town,  indulging  at  the  present  mo- 
ment in  the  wildest  dissipation  of 
their  lives.     , 

Each  woman  laid  her  hand  on  her 
neighbor's  as  commanded,  and  waited 
breathlessly  while  the  medium  rolled 
out  in  her  low,  deep  voice: 

"In  the  name  of  the  Lord  if  there 
are  any  spirits  present,  rap  !" 

"Tap-tap.     Tap-tap." 

It  was  not  the  medium's  usual 
method  of  "spirit"  entertainment. 
The  slate-writings,  materializations, 
trances,  that  she  gave  in  her  Boston 
place,  could  not  very  well  be  given  in 
her  hostess'  sitting  room  with  only  an 
ordinary  dining-room  table  for  par- 
aphernalia. But  it  was  strange  and 
awesome  enough  for  her  present 
1  sitters.  The  "tap-tap,  tap-tap"  sent 
a  shiver  down  eight  rigid  spinal 
VJ  columns. 

"Who's  present  ?"  asked  the  med- 
ium, following  up  the  question  by  a 
recitation  of  the  alphabet — repeating 
it  until  the  "spirit  had  rapped  out," 
letter  by  letter,  an  intelligible  name. 

The  "sitters"  waited  in  a  tense 
silence;  they  hardly  breathed;  their 
hearts  beat  like  sledge  hammers. 
Which  of  their  dead  was  lingering 
under  the  table  ?  Whose  spirit  had 
returned  to  deliver  a  message  from 
the  spirit  world  ?  And  what — what 
would   the  message  be  ? 

"E-1-l-i-o-t." 

"It's  Mr.  Elliot,"  announced  the 
medium,  in  matter-of-fact-voice.  "Ask 
him  questions,  Mrs.  Elliot,  that  can 
be  answered  by  yes  or  no.  One  rap 
means  no,  two  mean  yes." 

Mrs.  Elliot  leaned  stiffly  forward. 
She  tried   to  frame  a  question.     But 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


261 


how  to  address  a  spirit  ?  She  opened 
her  lips,  licked  them,  closed  them  with 
a  dry  gasp,  opened  them  again. 

"Speak  to — to  him,  Amely,"  she 
quavered. 

"Howdy-do,  Pa,"  said  Amelia,  her 

aoice  only  a  little  less  quavery  than 

ver  mother's.     "Have  you  something 

mportant  that  you  want  to  say  to  Ma 

hnd  me  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Mrs.  EHiot  clutched  her  daughter's 
hand.       "Ask    him     if     he's 
happy      in      Heaven,"     she 
commanded.      "Don't  worry 
him  now  over  earthly  things." 

"Are  you  happy  in  Heaven, 
Pa  ?  Are  you  resting  easy 
knowin'  that  I'm  not  goin'  to 
college  ?" 

"No." 

"Amely  !"  Mrs.  Elliot's 
voice  was  shrill. 

"Did  you  come  back  to  tell 
your  wishes  again  to  Ma  ?  Do 
you  want  her  to  promise  you 
again  that  I'm  to  have  an 
education  befittin'  an  Elliot  ? 
— those  were  your  dyin' 
words,  weren't  they.  Pa  ?" 

"Yes — yes — yes." 

"Amely  !" 

"Will  your  soul  rest  in 
peace  if  Ma  doesn't  send  me 
to  college  ?" 

"No." 

"Will  it  if  she  does,  Pa  ?' 

"Yes — yes." 

"That  ain't  your  Pa's 
spirit,"  cried  Mrs.  Elliot,  in 
tones  trembling  with  both 
fear  and  anger.  "He  knows 
I  never  promised — " 

The  medium  threw  up  her 
hands.  "You've  driven  him 
away,"  she  cried  sharply. 
"You  musn't  ever  contradict 
them." 

The  woman  turned  her 
helpless  interrogation  on  the  speaker. 

"I  felt  him  leave,"  she  answered 
calmly.  "But  there's  another  spirit 
present.  It's  for  some  one  at  this  end 
of  the  table." 

The  spelling  began  again.  The  spirit 
rapped  out  a  few  more  answers;  then 
he.  too,  departed.  Another  came,  five 
spirits  in  all  appearing — one  for  each 
family  represented. 

1 1  was  eleven  o'clock  when  the  seance 
broke  up.  In  subdued  voices  the 
women  bade  one  another  good-night, 
their  faces  pallid,  yet  with  a  furtive 
questioning  in  their  eyes.  Their 
Puritan  bl<Kxl  could  not  fully  accept  this 
irreligious  performance  as  emanating 
from  their  sanctified  dead;  their  sound 
Canadian  reason  demanded  proofs 
that  what  they  had  heard  was  in  truth 
the  voices  of  their  departed  relatives. 
They  left  the  meeting  not  fully  believ- 
'"K — yet  not  fulK/l""I><inK:  awed  into 


silence  by  the  strange  someth.inz  that 
had  been  in  their  presence — the  unseen 
something  that  had  made  raps  like  no 
human  raps  that  they  had  ever  heard. 
Mrs.  Elliot  and  Amelia  separated 
from  the  others  at  the  gate,  and  turned 
in  the  opposite  direction.  Silently, 
side  by  side  they  tramped  the  long 
mile  to  their  home.  It  was  bitterly 
cold.  The  thermometer  had  fallen  ten 
degrees  since  the  early  evening  when 
thev  left  the  house.    Their  breath  froze 


THEIK  BLOOD  rAIRLY  CONGEALSD  WITH  TERROR  AND  COLD,  THB  WOMBN  SAT  ■■FORE 
THE  FIRE  FOR  TWO  HOURS,  TALKING  IN  HUSHED  VOICBS, 


eyes    m 


in  flakes  on  their  (jouhlcfi  baize  veils, 
their  ears  tingled  under  their  knitted 
hoods,  their  feet  grew  so  numb  that 
they  could  scarcely  move  them;  even 
their  hands,  encasetl  in  heavy  mittens 
and  wrapped  tightly  in  their  thick 
shawls,  felt  the  deadly  chill. 

"Ugh  !"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Elliot,  with 
a  spasmodic  shiver,  as  they  opened 
their  door. 

"I'm  'most  froze  stiff.  Turn  on  the 
drafts  c|uick,  Amely.    Ugh!" 

The  hot  bed  of  coals  leaped  quickly 
to  a  cheering  blaze,  the  coal  snapping 
and  crackling  in  a  wholesome  way  that 
brought  back  the  natural  color  to  Mrs. 
Elliot's  face  and  drove  the  fe;ir  from 
her  eyes.  She  leaned  against  the 
straight  back  of  the  high  rocker  and 
planted  her  feet  on  the  nickel  fender  of 
the  stove. 

"Your  Pa  would  never  have  spoke 
through  any  such  woman  as  that. 
'Twas  l)lasphemy  her  rallin'  on  the  Lord 


"in  that  way.  I'm  ashamed  of  myself 
for  countenancin'  such  a  sacrilegious 
performance.  Your  Pa  alius  said  that 
such  things  was  of  the  Evil  One —  that 
if  folks  was  in  Heaven  they  didn't 
want  to  come  back;  if  they  was  in  the 
other  place  'twa'n't  likely  they  could 
get  back." 

"A  spirit  ain't  bound  by  laws,"  said 
Amelia  sententiously.  "You  promised 
Pa  that  I  should  go  to  college.  His 
heart  was  set  on  my  having  a  college 
education.  He  sold  the  East 
End  farm  on  purpose  to  pay 
the  expenses.  He  and  I  had 
all  the  courses  picked  out — 
I  was  going  to  study  geology 
on  purpose  to  please  him. 
I've  been  tryin'  for  two  years 
to  get  you  to  do  what  he 
wanted,  to  keep  the  promise 
you  made  him  on  his  dyin' 
bed.  And  he  came  back  to 
help.  He  didn't  care  whom 
became  through,  nor  how.  It 
was  Pa — and  you  know  it  was 
Pa." 

"Your  Pa  sold  that  farm 
against  his  own  reason;  he 
cried  the  day  he  put  the 
money  in  the  bank.  An'  I 
didn't  promise  to  send  you  to 
college,  a  place  where  women 
learn  to  act  like  men,  settrn' 
themselves  up  against  their 
betters — not  wantin'  to  keep 
house  nor  raise  their  own 
children.  I  told  him  that  I'd 
see  that  you  had  an  education 
befittin'  an  Elliot.  An'  you've 
got  that  without  goin'  to  col- 
lege; a  high  school  education 
is  good  enough  for  any  girl, 
EHiot  or  no  Elliot.  I  let  you' 
take  china  paintin',  an'  I'm 
goin'  to  have  Rachel  Carr  grve 
you  embroidery  lessons.  An' 
that  is  all  I  am  goin'  to  do.**^ 
She  rose  on  the  last  word,  standing 
erect,  her  tall,  angular  figure  rigid  with 
determination.  Amelia  met  her  steely 
glance  with  a  gaze  of  impotent  though 
wrathful  despair. 

"It  was  Pa,"  she  uttered  defiantly. 
"And  you  know  he  meant  college  when 
he  said  an  education  befittin'  an 
Elliot.    You  know-—" 

"Put  the  soap  stortes  in  the  bed," 
commanded  her  mother.  "They  ought 
to  been  in  while  we  was  goiie.  The 
heat  don't  seem  to  get  away  from  the 
stove  to-night." 

She  herself  shook  down  some  fresh 
coal,  completely  covering  the  glowing 
fire,  aiwJ  turned  off  the  drafts — the 
usual  nig^itfy  proceeding. 

Ametia  watched  her  mother  kneel 
beside  the  bed  arKi  say  her  prayers. 
She  Iboked  with  embittered  eyes  on 
the  gaunt  white-robed  figure.  She 
climbed  ir*  after  her  without  bcrsdf 
kneelinfp. 


262 

"Amely,  get  right  out  an'  say  your- 
prayers." 

"I  won't  say  my  prayers  again, 
ever,"  responded  Amelia  with  pas- 
sionate bitterness.  "I've  prayed  every 
night  and  morning  for  two  years  that 
your  heart  be  moved  to  send  me  to 
college.  I  prayed  without  ceasin'. 
I  believed  that  He  would  answer  them. 
Now  I  know  that  there's  nothing  in 
prayer,  or  promises  from  anybody." 

Mrs.  Elliot  groaned  righteously. 
"This  comes  from  my  takin'  you  to  that 
blasphemous  performance."  She 
clambered  stiffly  out  onto  the  cold 
floor  again  and  prayed  loudly  for  for- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

giveness  for  her  own  culpability  and 
Amelia's  guilt.  Her  teeth  chattered  over 
the  amen,  her  knees  knocking  together 
with  the  bitter  cold  even  after  she  was 
again  in  bed. 

The  bed  was  like  ice;  it  drew  the 
heat  from  their  bodies  and  gave  back 
no  warmth  in  return.  Each  kept 
closely  to  her  own  side,  too  resentful 
to  snuggle  up  to  the  other.  An  hour 
passed  without  cither's  falling  asleep. 
The  hot  soap  stones  had  mitigated  the 
icy  chill  of  the  bed,  but  still  Mrs. 
Elliot  moved  restlessly,  Amelia  stared 
out  at  a  streak  of  moonlight  that  came 
through  a  crack  of  the  shade,  falling 


like  a  long  wraith  across  the  blackness 
of  the  room.  Their  minds  were  still 
possessed  by  the  uncanny  experience 
of  the  evening.  Both  were  thinking 
of  it. 

And  suddenly,  sharply,  like  a  bolt  of 
lightning  from  a  clear  sky,  freezing  the 
blood  in  their  veins,  It  came  again^ 
came  with  a  tremendous  rap  at  the 
head  of  the  bed . 

"Crack  !    Cra— ck  !" 

An  awful  silence  followed,  a  terrify- 
ing, blood-curdling  silence. 

"Amely  !"  So  hoarse  and  changed 
with  fear  was  Mrs.  Elliot's  voice  that 
Continued  on  page  2S6. 


Under  Canvas  at  Summer  Fairs 


TO  THE  VISITOR,  THE  EXHIBITS  MAKE  THE  SHOW.  BUT  TO  THE 

EXHIBITOR.  THE  PEOPLE  PRESENT  AN  EVER 

ENTERTAINING  SPECTACLE 

By  Lillian  Beynon  Thomas 


"W 


rALK  right  up  and  get  some  ! 

Get    some  !     Lemonade  ! 

Orangeade  !       Ice  cold  ! 

Five  cents  a  glass  !       She 

likes  it  !     She  likes  it  !     Come  right 

along  !" 

It  was  the  man  across  the  way.  A 
man  and  a  woman  were  passing  his 
stand.  He  kept  on  repeating  his 
invitation  until  the  couple  had  passed 
his  gorgeous  array  of  deep  glasses  of 
ice  cold  drinks.  "They're  married,"  he 
said  in  an  audible  whisper  to  their 
backs.  A  certain  resentful  stiffening 
of  their  muscles  indicated  that  they 
had  heard. 

Just  then  two  women  with  half  a 
dozen  children  appeared,  and  the  man 
across  the  way  expanded  his  lungs, 
and  called  in  his  most  inviting  tones. 

"Come  right  along,  mam  !  Orange- 
ade and  lemonade  for  the  children. 
They  like  it.  Kids  ain't  been  to  a 
fair  without  it.  Ice  cold,  mam.  It  is 
good  for  them,  mam.  Five  cents  a 
glass  and  one  for  the  wee  un."  Then 
in  a  conversational  tone,  "That's 
right,  mam.  Here,  my  little  man  ! 
I  told  you  they'd  like  it. '  Tastes  good, 
eh  ?  You  think  I  can  drink  all  I  want, 
son.  So  I  can,  but  I  keep  it  for  kids 
like  you.  Come  again,  mam.  Give 
them  a  taste  before  you  go  home." 

He  was  quiet  for  a  few  minutes  while 
he  washed  the  glasses  the  women  and 
children  had  used.  That  task  finished, 
he  looked  around.  The  crowd  was 
beginning  to  gather.     He  began  calling 


Illustrated  from  Photographs 


again,  and  kept  it  up  all  day,  stopping 
only  to  serve  customers  and  wash  the 
glasses. 

The  men  and  women  in  the  tents 
and  stalls  around  him,  in  fact  all  over 
the  fair  grounds,  followed  the  same 
general  plan,  which  not  only  advertised 
their  goods,  but  created  an  uproar 
that  was  good  for  business.  A  Sab- 
bath stillness  has  its  place,  but  that 
place  is  not  on  the  fair  grounds.  The 
more  noise  the  better,  is  a  pretty  good 
general  rule  there,  but  like  all  general 
rules  it  should  not  be  pressed  too  far. 
It  would  be  more  accurate  to  say,  the 
greater  conglomeration  of  sounds  the 
better.  It  requires  the  hum  of  ma- 
chinery, the  voices  of  men,  women, 
children,  and  domestic  animals  and 
music — the  more  the  better. 

Let  this  medley  burst  on  the  ear  of 
one  unaccustomed  to  noise,  especially 
if  there  is  a  crowd  around  and  his 
spirits  begin  to  rise.  He  feels  a  strange 
elation.  He  is  in  a  new  world,  carried 
out  of  himself.  He  is  at  the  fair, 
worked  up  to  the  point  of  spending 
money,  in  a  way  that  will  surprise  him 
next  day,  and  maybe  make  him  won- 
der if  it  was  worth  while.  But  the 
next  year  he  will  go  again,  and  again 
the  next. 

I  spent  most  of  one  summer  attend- 
ing fairs  in  small  towns.  Professor 
Ross  and  I  had  a  tent,  for  which  we 


secured  as  good  a  position  as  possible. 
We  were  advertising  the  extension 
work  of  a  new  western  University. 
Prof.  Ross  had  beautifully  engraved 
pictures  of  the  University,  samples  of 
noxious  weeds,  of  grains  and  grasses, 
and  also  of  harmful  birds  and  insects. 
I  remember  that  one  of  his  talking 
points  was  marquis  wheat,  and  another 
alfalfa.  As  soon  as  our  tent  was 
pitched  he  always  went  on  a  weed 
hunting  expedition,  and  in  his  absence, 
I  had  to  discuss  weeds,  grains  and 
grasses. 

My  work  was  to  interest  the  women 
in  the  clubs  the  University  was  trying 
to  organize  in  the  rural  districts. 
These  clubs  were  to  interest  the 
women  in  scientific  homemaking,  in 
rural  improvement,  in  better  market- 
ing, and  in  education.  I  asked  for 
names  and  addresses  of  all  women  who 
visited  the  tent,  that  we  might  send 
them  literature  from  the  University. 
Professor  Ross  and  I  had  a  lot  of 
literature  with  us,  which  we  were  dis- 
tributing free. 

I  noticed  the  man  across  the  way,  or 
rather  I  should  say  I  heard  him,  as 
soon  as  I  entered  the  grounds  at  our 
first  fair.  His  stand  was  across  a 
narrow  driveway,  and  from  morning 
until  night  he  kept  up  a  continual 
stream  of  talk.  He  was  a  short  stocky 
individual  with  a  booming  voice  that 
could  be  heard  above  all  the  others 
around.  His  voice  was  evidently  his 
biggest  asset,  for  he  did  a  flourishing 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


263 


■ 


business,  in  an  untidy,  unattractive 
stall.  When  we  packed  up  to  leave 
that  town,  and  were  waiting  at  the 
station,  I  noticed  the  man  across  the 
way  sitting  on  a  bundle  and  leaning 
against  the  station.  I  never  saw  a 
man  look  more  tired.  As  soon  as  we 
got  on  the  train  he  went  to  sleep,  like 
one  utterly  exhausted.  At  our  next 
fair  his  stand  was  some  distance  from 
ours,  but  we  could  hear  his  voice  from 
morning  until  night. 

Betty  was  on  one  side  of  us,  and  a 
shooting  gallery  on  the  other.  A 
man  stood  in  front  of  Betty's  tent  and 
shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "Betty 
wants  to  see  you."  He  gave  no 
explanation,  nor  was  there  anything 
to  indicate  why  Betty  wished  com- 
pany, or  why  it  would  be  wise  to  pay 
twenty-five  cents  to  see  her.  Those 
who  took  chances  and  went  in  to  see 
her,  found  a  woman  gorgeously  dressed 
in  a  peculiar  snake-like  dress,  wiggling 
and  playing  among  a  lot  of  snakes. 
She  looked  strange  and  uncanny,  but 
those  of  us  who  were  around  in  the 
mornings  saw  quite  a  normal  looking 
woman,  sitting  out  behind  the  tent, 
enjoying  the  sunshine,  or  going  back- 
ward and  forward  preparing  her  hus- 
band's breakfast. 

One  morning  it  was  raining  and  dull 
and  she  came  in  to  see  me.  She  told 
me  her  story  then.  Her  husband's 
health  had  failed,  and  they  had  spent 
all  their  reserve  funds  for  doctors  and 
nurses.  She  had  never  learned  to  earn 
her  living,  but  she  had  one  hobby, 
she  was  fond  of  snakes.  One  day 
when  things  were  at  their  worst,  she 
sat  down  and  tried  to  think  of  some 
way  out.  She  remembered  reading 
that  every  woman  has  some  special 
ability,  which  if  cultivated,  would  be 
marketable.  She  could  not  think  of 
any  gift  that  she  had,  and  she  said  so 
to  a  friend.  This  friend  suggested 
that  she  use  her  ability  to  keep  snakes. 
From  that  suggestion,  grew  the  idea  of 
the  side  show. 

A  woman  came  to  our  tent  after 
visiting  Betty  that  day.  She  was 
righteously  indignant. 

"I  asked  that  woman  in  there  why 
she  goes  around  making  a  public 
exhibition  of  herself,"  she  announced 
exultantly. 

"What  did  Betty  say  ?"  I  asked. 

"She  said  she  had  to  earn  a  living, 
but  I  told  her  that  if  she  wished  to 
earn  an  honest  living,  I  would  pay  her 
a  good  wage  and  give  her  a  respectable 
home." 

"Did  she  accept  your  offer?"  I  asked. 

"No  !  She  asked  me  how  much  I 
would  pay  her.  I  said  eighteen  dollars 
a  month  if  she  was  quick  and  capable. 
But  she  just  laughed,  and  said  she 
made  that  much  in  a  day  sometimes. 
I  told  her  what  I  thought  of  her  and 
that  lazy  good-for-nothing  man  going 


IN  SCIENTIFIC  BUTTBR-HAKINC,  AS  SHOWN  AT  THS  FAIR,  EVERYTHING  IS  SANflARY,  ORDERLY 
AND   ACCURAIBLT  CALCUIATEO 


around  together.     I  did  my  duty  but 
it  didn't  do  any  good." 

Betty  told  her  husband  about  it  that 
night.  She  said,  "One  of  those  awfully 
respectable  women  offered  me  a  job 
in  her  kitchen  to-day.  Eighteen  dol- 
lars a  month,  if  I  made  good." 

"I  suppose  she  gave  you  a  lecture 
about  the  kind  of  a  life  you  are  living  ?" 
her  husband  said. 

"Yes,  the  usual  dope,  but  she  brought 
her  whole  bunch  of  kids  in  to  see  the 
snakes." 

I  didn't  hear  the  rest,  for  my  atten- 
tion was  attracted  to  the  shooting 
gallery.  I  had  been  greatly  interested 
in  the  way  the  two  men  conducting  it 
managed.  One  remained  to  run  the 
business  and  the  other  went  away,  but 
never  so  far  that  he  could  not  see 
what  was  going  on  at  theygallery. 
When  anyone  stopped  before  the  gal- 
lery, and  seemed  to  hesitate  about 
trying,  man  number  two  strolled  up, 
and  asked  about  the  rules.  The  man 
inside  urged  him  to  try  a  shot,  but  he 
always  held  back  for  some  time,  and 
urged  the  other  fellows  to  go  ahead. 
If  they  would  not,  he  would  finally 
yield  to  persuasion ,f and  take  a  shot. 
He  always  made  good,  and  then  the 
others  would  try.  When  the  others 
were  once  interested  he  disappeared, 
and  did  not  reappear  until  all  those 
he  had  persuaded  to  try  a  shot  had 
disappeared.  Then  he  would  come 
along  and  get  another  lot  started.  I 
watched  them  pretty  closely  for  the 
three  days  we  were  at  that  fair,  and  I 
could  not  see  that  the  second  man  was 
ever  suspected  of  being  in  league  with 
the  man  who  was  running  the  business 
end. 


An  interesting  class  of  people  are 
those  who  cater  to  the  people  attending 
a  fair.  The  frying  tents,  some  call 
them,  for  the  odor  of  frying  meat  and 
potatoes  is  always  in  evidence,  and 
back  of  the  frying  victuals,  a  man 
stands,  inviting  all  to  enter.  Some- 
times in  the  larger  tents  a  man  stands 
at  the  door  inviting  all  to  come  in  and 
enjoy  their  hospitality.  At  one  of  the 
large  fairs,  there  were  far  too  many 
people  to  cater  for  the  crowd  attending. 
One  morning  I  was  passing  a  tent  where 
a  man  was  earnestly  inviting  every  one 
to  come  in  and  be  at  home.  He  was 
particularly  jolly  and  witty,  and  I 
said,  "How  goes  it  ?" 

In  a  low  \()ice  he  said:  "Rotten  ! 
I  losit  twenty-five  dollars  yesterday, 
and  I  will  lose  more  to-day,  if  things 
do  not  change  soon."  Then  in  a 
merry  voice  he  called  to  a  couple  pass- 
ing, "  Come  in  and  have  a  lunch. 
Your  young  lady  would  like  it,  mister. 
Don't  be  stingy.     Give  her  the  best." 

The  church  women's  organizations 
find  great  favor  as  caterers  at  fairs, 
and  they  do  not  need  to  be  advertised. 
This  is  because  most  of  the  cooking  is 
home  made  and  the  best  the  women 
of  the  community  can  produce,  and  it 
is  impossible  for  anyone  depending  on 
the  stores  for  supplies  to  compete  with 
the  women.  All  church  .'Societies  cater- 
ing at  fairs,  have  all  they  can  do,  while 
often  those  who  are  doing  it  for 
personal  gain,  lo.se  heav'ily. 

People  in  charge  of  newspaper  stalls 
or  tents,  people  in  charge  of  tents  for 
fraternal  societies,  people  advertising 
machinery,  and  people  in  charge  of 
exhibits,  generally  look  for  a  tent  run 
by  a  woman's  organization,  when  the 


264 

matter  of  meals  has  to  be  considered, 
and  wlien  they  find  such  a  tent,  they 
generally  stay  with  it  right  through 
the  fair.  It  is  the  most  homelike  place 
on  a  fair  grounds. 

Another  class  of  people  who  help 
to  make  a  fair  lively  are  those  who 
have  something  to  sell.  One  man  we 
were  talking  to  was  selling  post  cards. 
He  was  the  father  of  five  children,  and 
he  hoped  to  make  enough  to  send  one 
of  the  boys  to  college  the  next  winter. 
Sonic  are  selling  to  get  money  for  some 
pet  scheme  that  they  could  not  manage 
in  the  ordinary  way.  Others,  restless 
souls,  prefer  that  kind  of  life. 

Many  of  these  people  travel  from 
fair  to  fair,  through  the  United  States 
and  Canada,  and  thus  they  are  busy 
most  of  the  year.  Sometimes  a  num- 
ber are  booked  for  the  same  fairs,  and 
they  get  well  acquainted  and  visit 
with  each  other  in  their  leisure  time. 
But  even  on  the  fair  ground  there  are 
rigid  social  distinctions.  For  instance 
Betty  and  her  few  snakes  would  not 
be  recognized  by  the  members  of  a 
great  big  show  carrying  many  wild 
animals  and  a  large  number  of  trained 
performers.  But  as  a  rule  such  shows 
as  Betty's  kept  to  the  smaller  fairs 
where  there  is  little,  if  any,  competition 
in  their  line. 

t  But  one  thing  I  noticed  was  the 
general  feeling  of  good  fellowship 
among  the  people  who  do  so  much  to 
make  our  small  town  fairs  what  they 
are.  I  suppose  there  is  some  jealousy, 
but  we  did  not  see  any  sign  of  it,  but 
we  did  see  people  do  many  kind  things. 
We  saw  people  making  sacrifices  for 
people  they  had  never  seen  before,  and 
might  never  see  again.  We  found 
them  ready  to  give  us  a  helping  hand 
to  put  up  our  tent  or  arrange  our  dis- 
play. In  the  larger  shows  the  per- 
formers kept  pretty  much  to  themselves, 
but  they  seemed  on  the  whole  to  be 
very  loyal  to  each  other. 

It  takes  all  kinds  of  people  to  make 
a  world,  and  you  find  them  all  at  a 
fair.  Many  people  peeked  into  our 
tent.andwhenwe  invited  them  to  come 
in,  they  bolted,  without  a  backward 
look  or  word.  No  doubt  they  had 
read  of  the  sharks  that  wait  around, 
every  fair  for  unwary  individuals.  We 
didn't  fool  them  with  our  polite  man- 
ner and  invitation  to  make  them- 
selves at  home. 

Everyone  at  a  fair  knows  the 
haughty  individual,  who  is  superior  to 
every  blandishment.  Such  people 
stepped  firmly  into  our  tent,  as  much 
as  to  say,  "I  have  paid  to  see  all  there 
is  to  see  and  I  am  going  to  see  it, 
but  don't  make  any  mistake,  you 
can't  spring  any  surprises  on  me  !" 
The  most  extreme  member  of  this  type 
that  I  tried  to  instruct  was  a  young 
woman,  who  seemed JtoJ have  harden- 
ing of  the  joints.    The  only  ones  that  I 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

felt  sure  were  in  commission,  were  her 
hip  joints,  for  she  got  around,  but  I 
am  quite  sure  her  knees  never  even 
flickered.  She  came  in  with  a  young 
girl  who  was  so  interested  in  every- 
thing that  she  never  thought  of  herself 
and  she  asked  all  kinds  of  questions, 
but  the  haughty  lady  was  not  led 
astray  by  the  veneer  of  respectability 
around  us.  She  knew  that  people  in  a 
tent  at  a  fair  hadn't  any  social  stand- 
ing, in  fact  she  was  sure  such  people 
didn't  have  any  standing  of  any  kind, 
and  she  was  afraid  of  the  germs.  She 
did  not  open  her  lips,  she  did  not 
touch  anything,  she  looked  disdain- 
fully at  the  literature  we  offered  her, 
and  she  walked  away,  with  her  dignity 
intact,  no  doubt  much  pleased  that 
she  had  been  able  to  show  us  our  place. 

In  contrast  to  the  haughty  individual 
there  were  the  friendly  persons  who 
accepted  the  invitation  to  come  in  very 
readily,  and  when  they  were  in  decided 
to  make  themselves  at  home.  Such 
people  had  no  doubt  that  the  Uni- 
versity belonged  to  the  people,  and 
they  were  the  people.  They  brought 
their  wraps,  their  baby  carriages,  their 
lunch  baskets,  and  all  their  friends. 
They  lunched  in  the  tent,  slept  in  the 
tent  when  tired  with  walking  around, 
brought  their  oranges,  bananas,  and 
ice  cream  cones  into  the  tent,  and  left 
peelings,  papers,  and  anything  they 
did  not  wish  on  the  floor.  Some- 
times half  the  chairs  were  occupied  by 
sleeping  children,  and  the  other  half 
by  dozing  adults,  and  we  had  to  step 
over  their  extended  limbs  toget  around, 
but  we  were  the  servants  of  the  people. 

But  the  great  majority  were  thor- 
oughly interested.  People  go  to  a 
fair  to  be  amused  and  to  learn,  and  the 
first  fair  we  attended  a  man  assured 
us  that  our  show  and  the  dog  show 
were  the  only  things  on  the  ground 
worth  seeing.  At  another  place  we 
were  told  that  we  came  in  a  close 
second  to  the  poultry  show. 

Of  the  really  interested  people,  there 
were  many  classes,  which  can  best  be 
explained  by  examples.  A  friendly 
couple  came  in  one  day,  followed  by 
two  children.  Professor  Ross  was  out, 
so  I  went  around  the  tent  with  them 
fexplaining  what  we  were  doing.  When 
I  pointed  out  some  wild  oats,  they 
both  laughed,  and  the  woman  said, 
"I  reckon  dad  knows  what  that  is." 

"Yes,  I  reckon  I  do,"  dad  said. 
"When  I  first  come  to  this  part  I 
didn't  know  anything  about  farming 
and  some  of  that  stuff  was  growing 
around  and  it  looked  good  to  me.  I 
saved  the  seed  and  sowed  it  the  next 
year." 

I  gasped,  and  his  wife  said,  "Yes,  he 
sowed  it,  and  we've  all  been  pickingwild 
oats  ever  since.    He  gave  us  a  life  job." 

"You  bet  !"  one  of  the  children  said 
in  a  low  tone. 


We  went  on  around  the  tent,  and  I 
saw  thai  they  knew  most  of  the  weeds 
and  f,;rainfe.  They  were  particularly 
inter-  sted  in  alfalfa,  of  which  they 
had  read  a  lot,  but  had  not  yet  tried. 
They  asked  for  literature  on  the  grow- 
ing of  grasses,  especially  alfalfa,  and 
on  the  best  means  of  killing  weeds. 
They  wished  us  well,  and  went  away, 
leaving  us  feeling  that  our  work  was 
worth  while.  This  couple  represented 
quite  a  large  class  who  visited  the  tent. 

Of  course  we  had  the  people  who 
knew  it  all.  They  talked  all  the  time, 
told  us  volumes  of  stuflf  about  things 
that  did  not  interest  us  in  the  least, 
much  of  it  bearing  on  their  own 
personal  cleverness.  They  knew  every- 
thing in  the  tent  and  everything  out 
of  it,  and  had  known  it  for  ages. 
They  had  no  doubt  we  might  do  some 
good,  but  there  were  many  important 
things  that  we  had  entirely  over- 
looked, things  much  more  important 
than  anything  we  had  attempted.  If 
we  had  only  consulted  them  before 
starting  out,  we  might  have  done 
something  worth  while. 

There  were  people  from  older 
countries,  who  were  tremendously 
interested  in  everything  in  the  west, 
and  who  belie\ed  that  a  new  country 
should  be  greater  than  the  old.  There 
were  others  who  had  no  faith  in  any- 
thing nev/.  If  we  showed  them  any- 
thing they  looked  languidly  at  it  and 
said,  "Yes,  I  guess  it  is  all  right,  but  you 
should  see — "  and  then  you  would  be 
in  for  a  lengthy  lecture  on  the  grandeurs 
of  something  they  had  seen. 

We  found  that  most  women  refused 
to  take  literature,  until  we  told  them 
that  it  was  free.  Some  said  quite 
frankly,  "I  would,  only  I  haven't  my 
purse."  When  told  that  it  did  not 
cost  anything  they  took  all  we  gave 
them.  Others  seemed  a  little  suspi- 
cious of  us  all  the  time,  especially  when 
I  asked  their  name  and  address.  They 
seemed  afraid  that  something  might  be 
forced  on  them,  if  they  were  known. 

At  one  place  a  man  and  woman 
came  in  together.  I  talked  to  the 
woman,  who  wa.<?apne  of  those  dry, 
expressionless,  drab  little  women ;  while 
Professor  Ross  talked  to  the  man. 
When  I  had  explained  to  her  what  I 
was  doing  and  asked  for  her  name  and 
address,  she  did  not  answer  me  but 
called,  "John  !" 

Her  husband  came  over,  and  she 
looked  at  me,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Tell 
him."  I  did  not  wish  to  tell  him,  but  I 
did  so.  When  I  had  finished  he  looked 
at  her  and  said,  "You  have  no  time 
for  that  kind  of  thing." 

In  a  perfectly  expressionless  voice 
she  said,  "She  says  she'll  send  me 
home  papers  and  things,  that  is  all." 

T'he  man  looked  at  me  a  second  and 

then  bcg.m,  "My  name " 

Continued  on  page  272. 


At  Fort  Despair 


ms!: 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  MAN  WHOSE  MIND  WAS  FAR  AWAY,  OF  THE  STRANGER 
WHO  FOLLOWED  HIM  TO  FORT  DE5f^AIR.  OF  THE  FIGHT  FObGHr  OUT 
IN  THE  MCOSE-YARD  TO  THE  TUNE  THAT  ZENONI 
CALLED  THE  HUMORESKE— AND  ALSO 
THE  STORY  OF  A  WOMAN 


By  Alex  A.  Thompson 


TO-NIGHT  as  I  sat  in  the  vast 
rotunda  of  the  hotel  in  this 
western  city,  idly  smoking  as  I 
scanned  the  faces  of  the  men 
and  women  who  passed  and  repassed 
in  that  huge  caravanserai,  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  was  thousands  of  miles 
away  from  the  western  plains — rather 
in  one  of  the  huge  homes  for  the  wan- 
derers of  the  earth  which  are  to  be 
found  in  New  York  or  London.  Wo- 
men, jewel  bedecked  and  dressed  like 
birds  of  Paradise,  followed  by  clean 
shaven  men  attired  in  the  regulation 
evening  garb  of  society,  hurried  past 
me<lown  the  wide  marble  staircase  to 
where  automobiles  awaited  to  bear 
them  to  the  dreary  labor  of  the  social 
swirl. 

It  was,  in  a  sense,  a  revelation,  a 
pageant  of  the  progress  of  this  great 
western  Canada  of  ours,  that  to-night 
I  can  sit  under  softly  shaded  electric 
lights  while  the  music  of  the  hotel 
orchestra  filters  dreamily  to  my  ears 
from  the  distant  dining  room.  How 
few  among  all  that  galaxy  of  business- 
men, globe  trotters  and  human  drift- 
wcod,  even  remembered  for  a  moment 
that  only  a  few  short  years  had  elapsed 
since  the  time  when  this  bustling 
western  city  was  but  a  few  shacks — a 
trading  post  where  two  trails  met. 

Progress — the  twin  lines  of  steel 
that  have  i)ushed  their  tentacles  all 
over  the  map  of  Western  Canada — 
has  rapidly  taken  from  wanderers  such 
as  I  what  is  nearly  the  last  of  the  lands 
of  unbroken  trails.  Yet  it  is  strange 
to  think  tiiat  only  yesterday  I  entered 
the  depot  at  this  western  city  fresh 
frtjm  vshal  seemed  another  world — the 
silent  places  of  the  Barren  Lands  that 
sweep  away  northwards,  ever  north- 
wards, clear  to  the  bleak  uncharted 
waters  of  the  Arctic  ocean. 

From  that  northern  kingdom,  the 
lure  of  the  open  places,  the  sighing 
pines  and  the  slumbering  lakes,  iuive 
a  whispering  voice  that  keeps  calling, 
calling  to  such  as  I,  who  am  but  an 
Ishmael  whose  fatherland  is  amid  the 
mystery  of  the  trackless  forests  and 
the  gray   silences  of   the  seven   seas. 


The  ni;m-stifled  cities  cannot  hold  me 
long,  and,  please  God,  in  but  a  few 
days  wlien  I  get  a  new  outfit  and  a 
Peterboro  to  replace  the  one  that  I 
lost  in  the  rapids  on  Cree  River  (I  shall 
tell  the  Huds(jn's  Bay  stores  here  to 
send  them  up  to  the  Landing)  again  I 
will  be  out  on  "the  long  trail,  the  out 
trail,  the  trail  that  is  always  new." 
F"or  one  who  passed  so  much  of  his  life 
among  sticky  galley-proofs,  Kipling 
knows  almost  uncannily  the  soul  of 
the  wanderers  o'  earth. 

As  I  sat  and  watched  these  men  and 
women — the  dwellers  in  the  last  great 
west — I  might  have  been  in  any 
European  capital  so  far  as  surround- 
ings and  ai)pearances  went,  yet  my 
thoughts  swing  back  to  the  story  told 
me  by  Old  Phil,  as  we  sat  by  Lac 
Labiche  only  a  brief  month  ago.  And 
to-night,  I  guess  Old  Phil  is  asleep  in 
his  blanket,  under  the  sweet  scented 
pines;  a  bed  I  envy  him. 

In  the  cities  it  is  hard  to  tell  of  the 
open  places;  things  seem  to  bulk  less, 
although  it  is  a  great  and  ever  interest- 
ing lx)ok  to  gaze  upon  the  passing 
faces  in  the  streets — that  hurrying 
mob  of  humanity  that  goes  to  make 
up  the  twisted  warp  and  woof  of 
comedy  and  tragedy  which  we  term 
our  lives. 

Among  the  sky-scrapers  they  value 
over-much'  the  knowledge  that  is  said 
to  be  acepiired  by  listening  to  the 
prating  of  bald-pated  and  profound 
profeswirs,  guides  of  the  gloomy  lecture 
rooms.  Dynamics  and  differential  cal- 
culus may  have  their  uses,  but  to  hear 
the  rhythm  of  the  great  throbbing, 
deep-hidden  heart  of  Life  itself,  one 
must  be,  like  Stevenson,  a  dweller  in 
"God's  great  out  o'  doors." 

I  am  forgetting  Old  Phil's  story,  for 
I  can  never  think  correctly  with  the 
incessant  jangle  of  telephones  and  the 
raucous  voices  of  liell  Iwys  in  my  brain. 
Old  Phil  and  I  had  left  Fort  Mc- 
Murray  in  the  fall  and  had  headed  east 
in  the  canoe  up  the  Clearwater  River 
and  south  across  the  Height  of  Land 
until  we  came  to  Lac  Labiche.  Down 
the    lake   we    paddled    through    these 


soft  fall  days — it  raises  a  hunger  in 
my  heart  to-night  when  I  think  of  the 
trip  as  I  look  through  the  lazy  smoke 
from  my  cigar  and  see  again  the  vivid 
green  of  the  grass,  the  medley  of  color, 
dark  pines,  scrubby  brush  and  barren 
gray  rocks — all  changeable  with  the 
bright  sunlight  or  deep  shade,  dappled 
by  the  fleeting  shadows  of  the  drifting 
clouds.  Say — ^if  you  sit  in  the  city  as 
you  read  this — ^just  try  with  me,  to 
imagine  a  sunset  more  wonderful  than 
any  you  ever  saw. 

Try  to  imagine  a  fringe  of  spruce 
and  pine  silhouetted  against  a  pale 
pink  coral  sky  which  blended  into 
every  known  hue  of  the  painter's 
palette  clear  up  to  the  darkening  dome 
of  heaven.  Scattered  far  to  the  rim 
of  the  horizon  are  piled  up  masses  of 
fleecy  clouds — seemed  as  though  the 
angels  from  the  arctic  heaven  use  them 
as  chariots  to  tell  the  people  of  the 
other  side  that  their  day  is  coming. 

Can  I  ever  forget  the  days  on  Lac 
Labiche  ?  We'd  camp  at  twilight  and 
lie  by  the  fire  after  supper  looking 
away  up  into  that  mysterious  dome 
with  its  studded  stars,  showers  of 
shooting  meteors,  and  then,  some 
nights,  those  baffling  northern  lights 
that  hung  like  pendants  from  a  great 
electric  arc,  or  like  a  reflected  glow 
from  some  hidden  fire,  again  maybe 
just  a  hazy  sparkling  shower  of  cold 
white  light  !  And  when  the  lantern 
of  the  voyageur — the  moon — would 
swim  up  from  beyond  the  pines,  across 
hollows,  filtering  among  the  trees  and 
seeking  the  shadows  of  little  bays  as  " 
we  paddled  along  at  night  it  cast  its 
full  radiance,  a  ]iath  of  glittering  silver, 
across  the  [ilacid  waters  of  Lac  Labiche. 
Often,  out  on  the  trail,  I've  wakened 
with  the  moon  shining  on  my  face, 
and  have  lain  breathlessly,  just  drink- 
ing it  in  and  thinking.  I-ooking  up 
into  the  fathomless  beyond  you  gain  a 
perspective  such  as  you  never  win 
l)eneath  ten-story  buildings  and  a 
choking  network  of  telephone  wires, 
and  you  feel  that  you  arc  only  a  mite 
in  the  infinite — that  when  you  whim- 
Continued  on  page  280. 

SOS 


HARVEST  SCENE,  PAINTED  BY  SIR  WILLI  iM  VAN  HORNE  ON  HIS  FARM  AT  SELKI  :K 

Spoiling  a  Painter  to  Make 

a  President 


THE  THINGS  THAT  GREAT  MEN  PLAY  AT  OFTEN  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN  THEIR  LIFE 
WORK,  HAD  FATE  SHUFFLED  THE  CARDS  A  LITTLE  DIFFERENTLY.     IF  THE 
PROFESSION  OF  ENGINEERING  HAD  NOT  CLAIMED  HIM.    SIR  WILLIAM 
VAN  HORNE  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN  A  WORLD-FAMOUS  PAINTER 

By  Bernard  Muddiman 

Illustrated  from  Photographs  of  Paintings  by  Sir  William  and  in  his  Collection 


THE  Canadian  Pacific  Railway 
and  Sir  William  Van  Home  go 
together  in  most  Canadian 
minds.  A  few  of  his  intimates 
know  of  his  pet  railway  in  Cuba,  of  his 
farms,  and  the  art  collection  at  his 
Sherbrooke  Street  mansion  in  Mon- 
treal. Smokers,  too,  knov/  the  Sir 
William  Van  Home  cigar.  But  there 
the  greater  part  of  the  world's  knowl- 
edge of  this  great  railroad  wizard  ends. 
For  among  other  things  Sir  William 
Van  Home  has  been  a  painter  all  his 
life.  And  if  engineering  had  failed 
him  and  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway 

266 


had  gone  up  the  spout,  Sir  William 
might  have  been  a  great  painter — a 
world-famed  artist  like  Sargent  or 
Monet  or  Zuloaga. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  some  faint 
hope  of  getting  a  peep  at  Sir  William's 
own  paintings  as  well  as  his  celebrated 
collection  of  pictures  and  objets  d'art 
that  I  called  at  his  mansion  on  Sher- 
brooke Street,  Montreal's  Fifth  Anenue. 
It  is  a  large  square  grey  stone  building 
on  the  north  side  of  the  street,  com- 
paratively plain  on  the  outside  but  like 
a  merchant  prince's  palace  within. 

Sir  William,  large  in  form,  a  trifle 


greyer  than  he  used  to  be,  with  a  half- 
lit  cigar  in  his  mouth,  his  coat  collar 
accidentally  turned  under  and  his 
clothes  dusty,  was  busy  packing  for  a 
jaunt  to  his  summer  home  at  St. 
Andrews,  N.B.  Whether  the  time  was 
opportune  or  not,  he  offered  in  a  most 
inv'ting  manner  to  let  me  into  his 
treasure  house. 

When  I  asked  after  his  own  paint- 
ings, he  took  me  into  the  breakfast 
room,  on  whose  walls  were  hung  about 
fifteen  or  twenty  large  canvases. 

"I  keep  this  room,"  he  explained, 
"for  my  own  paintings,  so  as  not  to 


disturb  the  rest  of  the  household.  1 
sometimes  call  it  the  Chamber  of 
Horrors,"  he  added  with  a  twinkle. 

The  pictures  in  no  way  warranted 
the  appellation  their  maker  had  given 
them.  Most  of  them  were  peaceful 
and  calm  in  character,  showing  the 
beauties  of  nature  in  summer  and  in 
winter,  in  daytime  and  at  night,  painted 
in  a  confident  pleasing  manner.  In- 
deed, apart  from  the  curiosity  of  seeing 
the  work  of  so  great  a  man,  one  viewed 
the  pictures  with  considerable  admira- 
tion. 

How  long  had  he  been  painting? 

"Oh,  a  long  while,"  he  answered, 
"ever  since  I  was  eleven  or  twelve. 
Here  is  one  I  painted  twenty-five 
years  ago,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  little 
landscape  with  a  stream  of  water  flow- 
ing through  a  field;  the  picture  was 
alive  with  a  i-jally  artistic  touch. 

On  the  east  wall  hung  a  large 
picture  of  the  Van  Home  farm  at 
Selkirk,  Manitoba,  showing  great 
broad  stubble  fields,  and  three  straw 
stacks,  the  workmen  building  the  last 
one  from  the  load  standing  by;  beauti- 
ful ambers  and  golds  were  in  the  graii. ; 
Indian  reds  and  emeralds  in  the  foliage; 
light  and  shade,  rhythm,  balance, 
movement,  all  the  resources  of  the 
landscape  artist  had  been  adroitly 
used.  The  railroad  wizard  could  paint. 
He  had  united  art  with  agriculture. 

.'^'■'uss  the  room  was  an  impressixe 
picture  of  the  great  Dominion  Irrn 
and  Steel  Works  at  Sydney,  Nova 
Scotia,  as  seen  at  night,  showing  the 
flaming  blast  furnace  fires,  the  lighted 
buildings,  the  multitude  of  towering 
chimneys,  the  sweeping,  curling,  illum- 
ined smoke,  planted  against  the  deep, 
starry  sky  of  night,  all  reflected  in  the 
water.  There  was  an  intense  dramatic 
quality  presented  in  the  canvas  which 
kept  (  ne  looking  a  long  time.  Sir 
William  had  painted  this  from  mem- 
ory, he  explained,  after  his  return  from 
a  trip  to  the  Cape  Breton  Iron  Works. 
The  retentive  power  of  his  mind  was 
remarkable.  Ihere  were  a  hundred 
observations  recorded  and  arranged 
with   beauty,  emphasis  and  accuracy. 

"You  do  not  always  paint  direct 
from  nature  ?"  I  asked  him. 

"No,  hardly  ever.  In  fact  I  seld<  m 
have  time  of  late  years  to  paint  in  the 
day-time.  I  use  the  Japanese  method 
of  taking  impressions  of  the  subject, 
and  after  a  lapse  of  time,  I  try  to  repro- 
duce them.  Generally  I  don't  begin 
painting  till  everyone  else  is  gone  to 
l)ed,  and  then  I  keep  mi  till  two  in  the 
morning." 

"How  long  does  it  take  you  to  paint 
a  picture  ?" 

"Here's  a  |)irture,"  he  siiid,  indicat- 
ing one.  "They  timed  me  on  it  and 
I  was  just  twenty-five  minutes." 

"Do  you  generally  finish  a  picture 
at  one  sitting  ?" 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"Nearly  always;  what  I  have  to  say, 
I  say  at  once.  I  don't  like  starting  a 
thing  a  second  time,  except  merely  t3 
add  some  finishing  touches." 

Attention  was  next  drawn  to  a  panel 
in  a  monochromatic  harmony  of  color. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  in  explanation,  "that 
was  partly  an  experiment.  I  painted 
it  with  common  ink  on  a  piece  of  beaver 
board,  and  then  I  tried  putting  a  coat 
of  shellac  over  it.  I  intended  it  as  a 
panel  for  a  fireplace"  (one  of  the 
mementoes  which  Sir  William  often 
given  to  his  personal  friends  of  St. 
Andrews.) 

There  were  many  more  pictures  of 
Sir  William's  making,  some  showing 
his  engineering  knowledge  of  form, 
several  nocturnes  and  odd  views  of 
land  and  sea,  showing  that  he  pre- 
ferred the  unusual  to  the  commonplace. 

One  was  a  scene  in  Cuba,  the  land  of 
his  pet  railway.  Wherever  he  goes,  his 
color-box  goes  too. 


267 

"I  see  3'our  paintings  are  all  of  land- 
scape. There  are  scarcely  any  of 
people." 

"No,  I  don't  like  painting  people, 
except  as  part  of  a  landscape;  it  is  not 
because  they  are  more  difficult,  for 
they  are  not." 

"Did  you  ever  take  any  lesson  in 
painting  ?" 

"No,  none." 

Chatting,  we  went  on  to  survey  the 
main  art  collections  of  the  house. 
The  fl<x)rs  of  the  great  mansion  were 
filled  with  works  of  art  of  almost  every 
sch(X)l.  Workers  of  Europe  and 
America,  and  even  Egypt  and  the 
Orient'  were  represented  in  paintings 
of  every  variety  and  style.  Flemish 
tapestr>-,  Oriental  rugs,  Chinese  lac- 
querware,  ebony  and  bejewelled  cabi- 
nets of  leak,  models  (.f  Viking  ships, 
Venetian  lateens.  and  Spanish  galleons, 
rare  manuscripts  and  books,  statuary, 
Japanese  arms,  antiques  crowded  the 


'Tilt  TOPEK."  BY  FRAN2 


OF  THK  NOTABLE  PAINTINCI  IN  U«  WILL  AM*!  COI.LECTtON 


268 

place.  All  were  carefully  arranged  in 
the  various  rooms  and  the  halls  of  tiie 
building.  No  room  was  left  without 
its  works,  not  even  the  garret  store- 
rooms. 

"Just  imagine,"  I  thought,  "living 
here  !  Think  of  waking  up  in  a 
Louis  XVI.  chamber  with  Murillo's 
Madonna  looking  down  (jn  you,  and 
stepping  out  on  an  eight  thousand 
dollar  rug  once  hung  in  a  Persian 
harem.  One  of  Franz  Hals'  laughing 
faces  would  watch  you  dress.  You 
would  step  into  the  study,  see  a  model 
of  the  shiji  that  carried  Columbus  to 
America,'  sit  down  by  a  Brazilian 
mahogany  table,  write  with  a  stylo 
pen  that  once  grew  in  the  Nile,  set 
your  cigar  on  a  bronze  tray  decked 
with  the  waves  that  broke  on  the 
ships  sailing  to  Troy,  and  throw  waste 
paper  into  a  Chinese  ninth  century 
brass  urn  with  the  holy  royal  dragon 
encircling  it,  and  then  examine  a 
ceramic  Egyptian  mummy  case  of 
some  unknown  princess,  or  look  at  a 
futurist  impressionistic  painting,  to 
see  which  should  be  added  to  your 
collection. 

After  viewing  the  noted  Velassque^ 
paintings  of  the  Spanish  school,  the 
Rembrandts  and  Franz  Hals,  and 
Ruysdalls  of  the  Dutch  collection,  the 
great  Herod  Feast  of  Rubens,  a  group 
of  the  Barhizim  painters  and  even 
such  a  treasure  as  a  Leonardo  da  Vinci 
head,  we  came  to  the  favourite  school 
of    our    collector    artist,    the    modern 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

impressionists,  the  works  of  Cezanne, 
Lautrec,  Leon  Dalxj,  and  some  others. 
Cezanne  was  represented  by  a  study  of 
his  wife.  Lautrec's  "Girl  with  the 
Bottle"  was  certainly  impressive;  it 
told  its  story  in  short  but  certain 
words.  It  was  the  morning  after  the 
night  bef(jre.  The  canvas  was  only 
partly  covered  with  paint,  a  trick 
Whistler  once  used. 

There  were  tw*^  or  three  blue  evening 
scenes  by  Leon  Dabo,  and  another  last 
arrival  of  his  not  yet  up;  a  violet 
coloured  fleur-de-lis  painted  on  a  bright 
green  piece  of  board. 

"Yes,  I  like  them  more  every  time 
I  see  them,"  Sir  William  said,  with  no 
uncertainty  as  to  his  feelings  for  the 
French  Impressionists.  "That  one  by 
Lautrec,  of  the  girl  and  the  bottle,  (I 
call  it  the  'Painted  Headache')  is  one 
of  my  favourites.  I  lent  it  to  the 
International  Art  Show  in  New  York 
last  spring.  I  do  not  think  painting 
consists  of  good  draftsmanship,  or  neat 
technique,  but  rather  the  impression 
the  forms  convey." 

Finally  we  reached  Sir  William's 
private  study,  a  large  room  in  the 
upper  story  where  he  does  his  work  and 
most  of  his  thinking.  Arranged  on  the 
larger  part  of  the  walls  was  his  collec- 
tion of  Oriental  pottery.  Never  tiring, 
he  pulled  out  tl.e  large  leather  bound 
catalogues  containing  many  hundreds 
of  pages  in  which  with  his  own  hand 
he  had  written  the  name,  origin,  and 
description  of  each  of  his  art  treasures. 


In  the  catalogue  of  Chinese  and 
Japanese  pieces  of  pottery  (many 
hundred  in  number)  he  had  painted 
exquisite  representations  of  each  one 
on  a  one-twentieth  scale  which,  under 
the  magnifying  glass,  showed  not  a 
blemish,  and  rounded  into  shape  as  if 
the  little  vases  or  jars  really  stood 
before  you. 

"May  I  ask  what  you  consider  is  the 
greatest  principle  in  art  ?" 

"I  believe,"  he  answered,  "that  art 
has  to  be  the  product  of  the  subcon- 
scious mind,  that  the  conscious  mind 
should  not  have  to  think  or  exert  itself 
during  the  process  of  expression,  el.se 
the  fingers  cannot  feel  free  to  put 
down  what  is  desired.  In  other  words, 
the  artist's  emotion  and  not  his  intel- 
lect should  control  his  art." 

Such  was  my  glimpse  into  the  life 
and  interests  of  one  of  our  most  dis- 
tinguished Canadians.  Sir  William 
has,  by  his  professicm,  built  and  financ- 
ed all  manner  of  works,  but  he  has 
satisfied  his  heart  by  delving  into  the 
secrets  of  the  beautiful.  He  has  been 
the  most  extensive  art  collector  in 
Canada,  while  the  beliefs  he  holds 
concerning  beauty  he  has  practiced 
with  the  same  confidence,  thorough- 
ness, speed  and  certainty  with  which 
he  has  planned  and  established  his 
transportation  lines.  That  he  has 
succeeded  in  transportation,  e\eryone 
khows;  that  he  has  signally  succeeded 
in  the  world  of  art,  I  had  seen  ample 
evidence. 


^  c;>i  i<;^  (<^  t$j  t<;5 1$]  d;^  !<;>}  i^  c;?i  i$]  «;>)  i$j  t$? 

<&  -§> 

§  -§> 

<&  § 

§  The  Breakwater  § 

S-  By  Mary  Gordon  Frascr                                                '  -^ 

»  "\'\ /"ITHOUT,  the  roar  of  surf  on  jagged  reefs,  ■& 

<§■  VV       Mad  winds  that  shr-ek  across  a  surging  sea,  ■& 

"S"                          *  The  swir  of  breakers,  drifting  clouds  of  spume,  § 

»  And  storm-swept  shores  grown  old  in  tragedy.  "S* 

^  Within,  tall  vessels  swaying  in  their  sleep,  "& 

"pj  Gray  harbor-mists  enshrouding  mast  and  spar,  "& 

^'  Ship's  bells,  low-mufifled,  over  depths  profound,  "& 

»  And,  through  the  shadowed  dusk,  the  first  pale  star.  "& 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


269 


The  Woman  Of  It    g 


Continued  from  page  256. 

"I  shall  miss  him,  too,"  agreed  Sin- 
clair, smiling  inwardly.  "I'm  leaving 
Barranmuir  to-morrow." 

"I  shall  come  to  hear  you  sing  in 
London,"  said  Dolly  lightly.  "You 
know  I'm  to  be  married  in  December." 

"Really  !  Good  enough  !  Let  me 
congratulate  you,"  said  Sinclair,  with  a 
sudden  return  of  his  warm,  boyish 
enthusiasm. 

She  laughed,  not  very  merrily. 
"You  said  that  just  as  if  I'd  been 
successful  with  a  difficult  shot.  It  is 
rather  like  that,  isn't  it  ?  Don't  look 
horrified ;  everybody  knew  I  had  to 
marry.  And  really  I'm  no  end  fond 
of  Colonel  Sandays." 

"Sandays  is  a  thoroughbred,"  said 
Sinclair.     "He  is  worth  being  fond  of." 

Dolly  no('<'ed  soberly.  "Much  too 
good  for  mi'  "'  she  said,  to  her  com- 
panion's am  zement.  Suddenly  she 
dropped  her  k'ttenish  pose,  rnd  looked 
him  square  'n  the  eyes.  "Let's  sit 
down  here  a  bit,"  she  suggested.  "I'm 
going  to  flirt  with  you,  and  I  want 
your  adviie." 

Rather  astonished,  Sinclair  complied. 
This  was  a  new  aspect  of  feather- 
headed  Dolly.  He  waited  for  her  to 
set  the  key-note  of  the  interview,  but 
she  leaned  her  chin  on  her  hand,  and 
stared  out  over  the  grey  and  purple 
moor  with  a  brooding  look.  When  she 
spoke,  it  was  without  looking  at  him. 

"Do  you  think  I'm  giving  Sandys  a 
rotten    deal  ?"    she    asked. 

"How  ?"  said  Sinclair,  temporizing. 
It  is  not  always  wise  to  adopt  too 
energetically  the  role  of  spiritual 
adviser  when  pretty  women  begin 
confessing  sins. 

"Oh,  making  him  marry  me." 

"Letting  him  marry  you,"  amended 
he.  "Anyone  could  see  that  he  was 
very  much  in  love  with — you." 

"That's  just  it,"  she  said  soberly. 
"He  isn't  in  love  with  me."  She 
faced  about,  and  looked  at  him 
earnestly.  "I'm  going  to  tell  you 
all  afjout  it — the  story's  common 
enough.  You're  going  away  to-mor- 
row, and  we'll  probably  never  see  each 
other  again.  And  somehow  I  feel  as 
if  you'd  be  honest  with  a  woman-  -  as 
honest  as  any  man  can  be  with  any 
woman.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
listen  to  me,  and  perhaps  advise  me. 
I'll  warn  you  now  f  may  take  your 
advice,  and  I  may  not — I)ut  I  would 
feel  better  if  I  heard  what  a  man 
thought  about  what  I'm  doing.     Will 


you 


"Of  course  I  will,"  said  Sinclair. 
"That  is,  if  you're  really  sure  you 
want  to  tell  anyone." 

"You  knew  I  had  to  marry  some- 
body, didn't  you  ?" 

He  ntxided. 


The  heavy  beard  of  the  outdoor  man  "sun-cured"  and  wiry, 
is  the  "acid- test"  of  a  razor— and  here  it  is  that  the 

Gillette    Safety    Razor 

most  clearly  shows  its  'class,"  Wherever  a  man  may  cheese  to  use 
it.  afloat  or  ashore,  the  Gillette  gives  a  clean,  cool,  comfortable  shave, 
without  pulling,  gashing,  or  even  irritating  the  skin. 

Be  sure  your  vacation  outfit  includes  a  Gillette  Safeiy  Razor.     It 
will  save  your  face  and  temper,  and  help 
you  to  keep  clean  and  respectable  wherc- 
ever  the  trail  m.iy  lead. 

Your  Hardware  Dealer,  Druggist  or  Jeweller  will 
gladly  show  you  a  wide  range  of  Gill  -  ttes  Stand- 
ard sets  at  $6.00  Pocket  Editions  at  $6.00  to 
$6.00     Combination  Sets  from  $6.50  to  $26.00. 

Gillette  Safety  Razor  Co.  of  Canada 


Office  and  Factory  ; 

THE  NEW  GILLETTE  HLDG.,  MONTREAL 


IT  PAYS  TO    FAV 


ilmimmiiL 


imi:iX'r!iii/mii:irmimii/iwM 


"I  wish  you  could  see  the  things 
that  well-meaning  old  dowagers  have 
brought  up  to  be  snared,"  .siiid  the 
girl.  "I  won't  tell  you'' their  names; 
but  I  —  I'd  rather  have  married  a 
groom  from  the  stables.  I've  been 
f)ut  three  years  now.  Before  long, 
they'll  begin  to  sjiy  that  I'm  losing  my 
looks.  .  .  And  my  sisters  are  com- 
ing up.  Miriam's  seventeen.  And 
and  I  wanted  to  marry  somebody  1 
cared  aljoiit.  You  know  ?"  She  did 
not  look  at  him. 


'  ^'cs.  I  know,  "  said  he  gently. 
'There  hasn't  been  anybody.  Tlicre 
have  been  some  I've  liked.  I  like  you, 
for  example.  You'd  be  a  first-class 
brother.  But  I  wanted  to  love  some- 
body— to  love  somehotly  enough  so 
it  would  be  hea\en  when  he  was  around 
and  -the  either  place  when  he  wasn't. 
You  know  that,  too  ?" 

"Yes,  I  know  that,  hk)." 
'Well,  Sandays  is  a  gentleman.     He 
thinks  he  loves  me.     He  doesn't  know 
anything  at  all  about  me.     He  thinks 


270 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


TheOneDish 

That  Agrees  With 

The  Ag-ed 


CORN  HAKES 

Get  the  Original 


— everybody  thinks — that  I'm  just 
silly  little  Dolly  Brent  without  an  idea 
in  her  curly  pate  except  dances  and 
dresses  and  having  somebody  to  hand 
me  a  cup  of  tea.  I'm  not  clever.  I 
can't  sing  or  paint  or  write  or  dance 
or  do  anything  like  that.  I  can't  do 
anything  but  wear  my  frocks  well  and 
do  society  things  passably,  and  hus- 
band-hunt. If  I  could  have  made  up 
my  mind  to  marry  some  of  the  other 
creatures,  I'd  have  palmed  myself  ofl 
on  them  without  a  qualm  of  conscience. 
But — but  Sandays  is  a  gentleman.  Do 
you  think  I'm  selling  him  a  pup  ? 

"Sometimes  I  don't  think  I'm  worth 
loving  at  all.  And  yet  I've  got  to 
marry  somebody,  and  I'd  rather  have 
it  Sandays  than  anyone  else  there  is.  I 
do  truly  and  honestly  like  him  no  end. 
But  if  I  were  a  man,  I  wouldn't  marry 
me.  Do  you  think  I'm  doing  some- 
thing that  isn't — isn't  sporting  ?  Do 
you  ?" 

She  turned  and  faced  him,  again. 
There  were  no  tears  in  her  eyes,  but  a 
humbleness  and  doubt  that  touched  his 
heart.  He  hesitated,  arranging  his 
words  in  his  mind,  and  she  waited. 

"I  Hke  you  this  moment  better  than 
I've  ever  liked  you  before,"  he  said. 
"Why  not  tell  Colonel  Sandays  just 
what  you've  told  me  ?  I  believe  he 
would  respect  you  more  for  it,  and 
love  you  more." 

"Yes,"  she  said  intently.  "I've 
thought  of  that.  Suppose  he  didn't, 
though  ?  Suppose  he  didn't  ?" 
1;^ There  was  no  answer  to  that.  Sin- 
clair could  easily  conjure  up  a  vision 
of  the  alternatives  offered  by  the 
dowagers,  and  shivered,  as  Dolly  her- 
self had  done,  at  the  thought. 

"I  think  I'd  take  the  chance,"  he 
said  gravely.  "With  nine  out  of  ten 
men,  I  wouldn't  advise  your  doing  it; 
but  I  belie\'e  Sandays  is  true  blue." 

"Maybe,"  mused  the  girl.  "Maybe. 
Men  have  such  strange  ideas  about 
things  sometimes,  though."  And  then,' 
suddenly  she  broke  down.  "Oh,  why 
didn't  they  teach  me  something  use- 
ful ?"  she  sobbed.  "I'd  so  much 
rather  not  marry  anybody  yet — not 
anybody.  And  I  can't  even  sew.  It 
isn't  fair,   it  isn't  fair  !" 

Sinclair  said  nothing.  The  world 
had  not  been  fair  to  him,  either.  It 
occurred  to  him  to  reach  out  a  hand 
and  pat  her -shoulder,  but  with  his  curi- 
ous isolation,  he  felt  hesitant  about  it. 
She  pulled  herself  together  in  a  moment. 
"I'm  not  taking  this  very  well,"  she 
apologized.  "It  must  be  boring  you 
frightfully." 

He  smiled,  with  the  gentle,  com- 
prehending smile  that  made  people 
love  him,  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"On  the  contrary.  Miss  Brent.  I  feel 
honored  with  your  confidence.  Will 
you  believe  me  when  I  say  that  I  am 
more  your  friend  now  than  I  have  ever 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


271 


been — that  I  have  more  respect  for 
you  as  a  woman  and  as  a  good  sports- 
man ?  I  think  you  will  make  Colonel 
Sandays  very  happy,  if  you  keep  on 
being  as  honest  and  courageous  as  you 
have  been  this  afternoon." 

She  laughed,  with  something  of  her 
usual  light  manner.  "I'm  afraid  it 
would  be  too  great  a  strain,"  she  said. 
"But  I'm  ever  so  grateful  to  you.  It's 
been  a  comfort  to  tell  somebody,  and  I 
feel  better." 

At  this  juncture.  Colonel  Sandays 
himself  appeared  over  the  top  of  the 
heather-clad  hill,  and,  seeing  them, 
waved  a  hand  and  turned  his  steps  in 
their  direction.  Sinclair  and _,  Dolly 
exchanged  a  look. 

"Shall  you  ?"  he  said. 

"I — I  don't  quite  know,"  she  said. 
Then,   bravely,   "I— I   think  so." 

"Go  in  and  win,"  he  encouraged 
her,  and  they  were  laughing  together 
when  the  colonel  came  up,  with  the 
inquiry,  "What  luck  ?" 

"Pretty  fair,"  said  Sinclair.  "Miss 
Brent  and  I  were  just  discussing  the 
looks  of  those  easterly  clouds.  Do 
you  think  we'll  have  rain  out  of  them  ?" 

The  colonel  cocked  an  estimating 
eye  in  their  direction. 

"It  looks  rather  like  it,"  he  judged. 
"But  you  aren't  going  to  hesitate  over 
a  hatful  of  rain,  are  you  ?" 

"Ordinarily,  no,"  returned  the 
singer.  "But  I'm  feeling  a  bit  out  of 
sorts  to-day,  and  my  next  concert 
date  is  too  close  for  me  to  risk  a  cold. 
So  if  you  will  be  good  enough  to  take 
charge  of  Miss  Brent,  I  think  I'll  go 
in.  I've  been  boring  her  frightfully, 
anyhow." 

"I  was  just  going  to  investigate  the 
cover  beyond  the  burn,  here,"  said  the 
Colonel,"  and  I  shall  be  delighted  if 
you  will  accompany  me.  Miss  Brent. 
You  remember,  I  was  telling  you  about 
it  at  breakfast." 

"Oh,  really  ?  How  fascinating — " 
began  Dolly.  She  broke  oflf,  with  an 
<xid  look  at  Sinclair.  "You  mean  the 
one  where  you  found  the  weasel's 
track  ?  I  want  to  see  that."  She 
smiled  at  the  singer.  "The  colonel 
sees  a  thousand  things  in  the  woods 
that  nobody  else  ever  notices.  He  has 
even  promised  to  teach  me  how  to 
ff)llow  a  spoor." 

"VV^e'll  have  our  first  lesson  now," 
declared  the  Colonel,  laughing,  and 
they  made  off  together  across  the 
moor.  Dolly  turned  once,  and  waved 
her  hand  to  Sinclair  with  a  gesture 
singularly  gallant  and  somehow  touch- 
ing. 

Once  alone  on  the  moor,  weariness 
settletl  down  upon  the  young  man 
with  an  almost  physical  weight.  He 
wanted  to  get  away  from  everybody. 
He  wanted  to  be  by  himself  in  the 
quiet  of  his  big  empty  room  in  London. 
The  doings  of  the  previous  day  had 


Safety  in  Summer 

comes  from  a  wise 
selection  of  easily 
digested  foods 
which  supply  the 
maximum  of  nu- 
triment with  the 
least  tax  upon  the 
digestive  organs. 
Food  follies  in  Summer  lower  vitality,  de- 
crease efficiency  and  cause  damages  that  are 
not  easily  repaired.  The  ideal  diet  for  the 
sultry  days  is 

Shredded  Wheat 

with  fresh  fruit  and  green  vegetables  —  a 
combination  that  is  wholesome,  cooling 
and  satisfying  and  that  supplies  all  the 
strength  needed  for  work  or  play  and  keeps 
the  alimentary  tract  in  healthy  condition. 


Shredded  Wheat  i>  delicioutly  nourishing 
for  breakfast  with  milk  or  cream  or  for 
any  meal  in  combination  with  huckle- 
berries, raspberries  or  other  fruits.  Heat 
one  or  more  Biscuits  in  the  oven  to  re- 
store crispness;  then  cover  with  berries 
and  serve  with  sugar  and  cream. 


"Ifs  All  in  the  Shreds" 

The  Canadian  Shredded  Wheat  Co.,  Ltd., 
Niagara  Falls,  Ont. 

Toronto  OSes  :  ti  WelUncton  Street,  Bast. 


jrar 


■*^'"'""'"''""-'''''"*i 


been  a  strain  on  him.  This  morning's 
conversation  had  been  another.  Even 
the  talk  with  Dolly  Brent  had  sub- 
tracted from  his  emotional  store.  He 
had  postponed  thinking  and  feeling; 
and  now  he  knew  that  he  must  get 
away  somewhere  and  think  things  out. 
The  wind  had  changed  and  now 
rain  began  to  fall — a  drop  or  two  at 
first,  then  a  moment's  shower,  and 
then  a  sluggish  persistent  drizzle.  He 
turned  up  his  collar.     Tired  and  dis- 


pirited as  he  was,  he  felt  that  his 
vitality  was  low,  and  a  wetting  might 
affect  his  voice.  He  wanted  to 
sing  well  in  Paris.  He  had  never 
sung  there  before.  Swiftly  he  length- 
ened his  stride. 

"I  shall  have  to  get  back  quickly," 
he  said  to  himself,  "and  to-morrow  I 
leave  Barranmuir.  I  shall  never  come 
back  again — never." 

To  he  conlitiMed. 


272 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


You  Start  to  Eat  Them 

One  by  One 

Puffed  Wheat  and  Puffed  Rice  are  so  dainty — so  crisp,  airy  and 
fragile — that  you  treat  them  at  first  like  confections.  One  starts  to 
eat  them  grain  by  grain. 

Yet  these  are  but  whole  grains — nothing  is  added.  The  almond 
taste — like  toasted  nuts — comes  from  terrific  heat.  And  sfeam  explo- 
sion makes  each  grain  like  a  bubble. 

The  Only  Perfect  Cooking 

Professor  Anderson's  process  is  the  only  way  known  to  fit  every 
food  granule  for  easy  digestion.  In  Puffed  Grains,  each  separate  food 
granule  is  literally  blasted  to  pieces. 

Other  forms  of  these  grains  are  delicious.  But  this  way  alone 
gives  perfect  cooking— makes  them  scientific  foods.  There  lies  the 
main  reason  for  Puffed  Grains. 


Puffed  Wheat,  10c 
Puffed  Rice,      15c 

Except  in  Extreme   West 


CORN 
PUFFS 


The  different  Puffed  Grains  with  all  the  ways  of  serving  offer  you 
endless  variety.  Serve  them  with  cream  and  sugar.  Mix  them  with 
berries.     Float  them  like  crackers  in  bowls  of  milk. 

Use  like  nut  meats  in  candy  making  or  as  garnish  for  ice 
cream.  _  Serve  one  in  the  morning,  another  at  night — for  the  sum- 
mer dairy  supper. 

No  other  cereal  food  ever  created  affords  such  a  wealth  of 
enjoyment. 

the  Quaker  Q^ls  (J>mpai\y 


Sole    Makers 


(628^ 


Under  the  Canvas 

Continued  from  page  264. 

I  held  my  book  up  in  front  of  him 
and  wrote,  in  as  big  and  bold  a  hand 

as  I  could,  "Mrs. "     But  John  said, 

"Come  on  !"  and  without  a  word  his 
wife  followed  him  out. 

One  morning  a  Russian  gentleman 
came  into  the  tent.  He  was  travelling 
through.  He  at  once  became  greatly 
excited  over  a  weed.  It  seemed  that 
he  knew  it,  and  had  been  making  a 
special  study  of  its  history.  He  was 
so  excited  and  spoke  such  broken 
English  that  I  ran  for  the  Professor, 
who  was  at  breakfast.  When  they 
met,  they  had  so  many  common  inter- 
ests that  I  did  not  see  any  more  of 
either  of  them  for  some  time.  I  think 
they  were  wandering  around  the 
grounds  looking  for  weeds. 

A  civil  engineer  came  in  one  day, 
and  looked  with  languid  interest  at 
everything  until  we  reached  the  en- 
graved pictures  of  the  University. 
He  grew  enthusiastic  at  once,  begged 
for  small  copies,  hung  over  them  for  a 
long  time,  and  came  again  in  the 
afternoon  bringing  a  lady  to  see  them. 
It  seemed  that  they  reminded  him  of 
the  home  land. 

Many  who  contemplated  going  on 
the  land  came  for  all  the  information 
they  could  get,  especially  if  they  had 
never  farmed.  Many  who  came  in 
told  us  with  much  pride  that  they  had 
learned  to  farm  from  books  and  papers, 
and  such  people  were  always  looking 
for  something  new.  One  thing  that 
interested  me  very  much  was  that  the 
majority  of  those  who  had  learned  to 
farm  from  study  and  experimenting  on 
their  own  lands,  were  helped  and 
encouraged  by  their  wives.  It  seemed 
that  the  women  had  been  real  partners, 
and  as  a  result  were  scientific  farmers, 
and  homemakers.  They  seemed  pro- 
sperous, spoke  hopefully  of  the  future, 
and  everything  seemed  to  be  in  the 
plural,  both  their  business  and  plea- 
sure. I  think  it  must  have  been  the 
result  of  the  farmer  reading  about  his 
work  in  the  evenings  and  discussing  it 
with  his  wife. 

I  will  give  an  instance  that  will 
explain  this.  A  couple  were  in  the 
tent,  middle  aged,  average-looking- 
farmers.  The  man  said  something 
about  going  on  the  grand  stand.  The 
wife  promptly  sat  on  the  proposition. 
She  said,  "We  can't  afford  it.  You 
can  look  through  the  fence  all  right." 
The  man  appeared  to  yield,  but  I  saw 
him  sneaking  into  the  grand  stand 
alone  later.  I  saw  many  such  women 
objecting  to  taking  in  all  the  show, 
on  the  plea  of  expense.  It  looked  as 
if  the  men  wished  "to  do  the  thing 
right,"  as  they  called  it,  if  they  did  it 
at  all.     On  the  other  hand,  the  women 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


273 


were  quite  satisfied  to  go  half  way  and 
save  money  on  the  rest. 

In  the  case  of  the  farmers  and  their 
wives  who  did  the  work  together,  it 
seemed  that  they  must  have  decided 
just  how  much  they  would  spend,  for 
they  seemed  to  have  their  day  plan- 
ned. They  knew  just  where  they  were 
going,  and  I  think  they  did  not  miss 
much,  but  of  course  they  may  have 
had  their  own  method  of  saving. 
The  world  is  full  of  queer  folks. 
You  find  them  among  the  show  folks 
and  among  the  people  who  go  to  see 
the  shows,  and  among  the  people  who 
stay  at  home  and  refuse  to  go  to  a 
show.  You  find  good  folks  and  kind 
folks  in  the  show  tents,  in  the  frying 
tents,  selling  things,  and  performing 
fn  the  grand  stand.  Folks  are  much 
the  same  the  world  over.  Paint  and 
powder,  gaudy  dresses  and  gorgeous 
feathers,  cover  the  one  great  drama 
of  life  in  which  we  are  all  acting  a  part. 
"Come  right  up  and  play  the  game  ! 
Be  a  sport  !  You'll  like  it  !  You'll 
like  it  !" 


The  Baby 

By  Cy  Warman. 

My  soul!  It  seems  but  yestermom 
That  you  came  singing  unto  me. 

Soft  as  the  stjuth  wind  in  the  corn, 
And  waking  nature's  minstrelsy; 

Wild  birds  above  the  droning  bees 
Were  twittering  in  the  Tuileries. 

We  have  this  glory  without  sin: 
This  glory  and  the  joy  of  love. 

Blest  morn  an  angel  entered  in 
And  left  this  cooing  turtle  dove, 

With  dimpled  arms  and  pink-toed  feet; 
Our  blue-eyed  baby.  Marguerite. 

Pray  guard  her  well,  when  I,  your  lord, 
But  not  your  master,  am  away; 

When    peace   is   come  I'll  sheath  my 
sword 
Then  back  to  you  and  yesterday : 

To  sit  beside  you  at  the  feet 

Of  our  Dieu  Donne,  Marguerite. 


The  youthful  performers  had  been 
coached  liy  the  prcxiucer  to  preserve 
the  old  English  pronunciation  of  the 
final  "e"  in  words  like  "hedde"  and 
"roote."  This  led,  however,  to  a 
moment  of  embarrassment  when  a 
group  of  young  women  appeared  on 
on  the  stage  in  the  guise  of  shep- 
herdesses, wearing  kirtlcs. 

They  were  speaking  of  the  long  even- 
ings in  the  part  of  the  country  wherein 
they  were  supposed  to  Ije,  and  one  of 
them,  in  the  most  naive  way,  said : 

"These  nighties  are  far  t«K>  long." 


Blanc  Mange" 

Most  Delicious  of  Summer  Dishes 

when  served  with  cream  or  stewed 
fruits  nothing  quite  equals  the  deli- 
cacy and  cool  delight  of  Blanc 
Mange.  Benson's  Prepared  Corn  is 
the  purest  and  most  satisfactory 
form  in  which  this  article  can  be 
procured.  All  good  grocers  sell  it, 
and  a  most  attractive  recipe  book 
of  puddings,  sauces,  ice  cream,  etc., 
will  be  sent  on  request.     Write 

CANADA  STARCH  CO..  Limited 

MONTREAL 


Makers  of  the  famous  Edwardsburg  Brand  of  Corn  Syrup 


PREPARED)! 


*■?' 

Mr 

■Mr 

*?' 

"Mr 

*?' 
-ar 


^ 
^ 

^ 
* 

^ 
# 


ALL  the  way  from  London  (Eng-.)  comes  this  favorite 
Tea  of  the  Old  Country.     'Twill  delight  you  I 


-  la 
tKe 
BF.ST 


Tobl. 


RICHD.  DICKCSON 
A  C0.,LBii.4 

Loadna,  Eng. 
EXabtukxl   IM« 


A(snt«: 

C.  O.WALKBR  ACQ. 

Htmiltoa. 


■nr 

■nr 

<?' 

■yr 

'Mr 

^?' 

-yr 


274 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A 


i:  'f:^  ' 


When 
Motoring 


slip  a   package   of    Ingersoll 

Cream  Cheese  in  the 

luncheon  basket. 


has  a  distinctive  flavor— much 

nicer   than  ordinary   cheese. 

Wholesome    and   nourishing, 

too — you'll  enjoy  it. 

In  Packages 
25c  and  25c  at  all  Grocers 

Send  for  the  Ingersoll  Recipe  Folder 


THE 
INGERSOLL 

Packing  Co ,  Ltd 
Ingersoll,  Ont. 


"Spreads 
like 
Butter  " 


A  LOVELY  BABY  BOY 

This  Mother  is  quite    Enthusiastic 
over  a  well   Known   Food. 

Mrs.  J.W.ratetnan,  l33EoiiItbeeAve., 
Toronto,  in  writing  about  Neave'sFood 
says  "Wlien  I  first  knew  one  of  my 
friends,  her  baby  Jack  was  eight  montlis 
old  and  dying  by  inches.  She  had  tried 
three  foods  because  her  Jack  could  not 
digest  milk.  At  last,  I  fetched  her  a  tin 
of  Neave's  Food.  "  At  the  end  of  a 
month,  Jack  was  rapidly  gaining  flesh 
and  was  bright  and  happy.  He  is  a 
lovely  boy  now  and  she  declares  Neave's 
Food  saved  his  life.     And  it  did. 

Then  I  recommended  it  to  a  friend  on 
Victoria  Avenue.  She  had  a  baby  6 
months  old  that  was  not  thriving  a  bit. 
She  put  the  baby  on  Neave's  Food  and 
at  the  end  of  three  months,  the  baby 
was  twice  the  size. 

I  have  neverseen  two  bigger,  stronger 
boys  than  mine  for  their  ages  and  we 
owe  it  all  to  Neave's  F'ood.  I  have  the 
utmost  faith  in  Neave's  Food." 

Mothers  a,:id  prospective  mothers  may 
obtain  a  free  tin  of  Neave's  Food  and  a 
valuable  book  "Hints  About  Baby"  by 
writing  Edwin  Utley,  14  W  Front  St. 
East,  Toronto,  who  is  the  Canadian 
agent.     For  sale  by  all  druggists.       49  v 

Mfrs.  J.  R.  Neave  &  Co.,  England. 


This  department  is  under  the  direction  oj  "Kit "  who  under  this  familiar  pen 
name  has  endeared  herself  to  Canadian  women  from  Belle  Isle  to  Victoria.  Every 
month  she  will  contribute  sparkling  bits  of  gossip,  news  and  sidelights  en  life  at 
seen  through  a  woman's  eyes. 


"CROWDS" 
'T'HE  man  who  wrote  "Crowds" — 
^  — have  you  read  it  ? — is  as  great 
an  optimist,  as  Schopenhauer  is  pessi- 
mist, and  as  the  world  seems  to  sway 
from  one  extreme  to  the  other,  it  is 
but  right  to  give  him  a  hearing. 
Gerald  Stanley,  the  author  of  "Crowds" 
is  a  Massachusetts  man  between  fifty 
and  sixty,  and  very  much  an  American. 
By  the  way,  we  count  optimism  as  an 
American  virtue  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  is  a 
live  wire  whose  motto — have  wires 
mottoes  ? — is  Energy.  Now,  just  as 
too  much  pessimism  wearies  and  de- 
presses, so  too  much  vitality,  virility, 
zeal,  activity  tires.  You  sometimes 
feel  like  thrusting  these  merry  opti- 
mists out  of  your  paddock  and  locking 
the  gate  upon  them,  only  you  should 
be  careful  to  lock  out  the  pessimist  at 
the  same  time. 

As  for  Truth — ^you  can  pick  a  great 
deal  of  it  out  of  these  two  gospels,  and 
make  a  quiet  bromidial  chain  of  it  and 
then  lie  down  to  sleep. 

EPIGRAMS 
COME  of  "Crowds"  epigrams  may 
hearten  you  for  the  day's  work, 
though  to  tell  the  truth,  we  prefer 
swapping  stories  with  the  Man  at  the 
Cross-roads:     For  instance: — 

"People  crucified  Christ  because 
they  were  in  a  hurry." 

And  yet  few  writers  make  you  feel 
more  in  a  nurry  than  the  author  of  the 
phrase. 

"The  only  serious  question  we  have 
to  face  about  money,  is  the  unimport- 
ance qtt  the  men  who  have  it." 

But,  O  my  dear  Mr.  Optimist,  how 
we  envy  them  !  How  important  we 
find  this  money  problem  when  the 
time  for  a  little  trip  comes  round,  or 
Christmas  is  near,  or  the  August  white 
sales  harry  the  soul  of  the  practical 
housewife.     What   do   we   care   about 


the  non-importance  of  those  who  have 
money?  It  is  sadly  important  to  us 
that  we  haven't  any  and  never  will 
have  any  with  which  to  buy  the  cake 
and  ice-cream  of  Life. 

With  apologies: — 

"The  only  really  serious  question 
we  have  to  face  to-day  about  money 
is  that  we  haven't  got  it,  and  see  no 
likelihood  of  our  ever  getting  it." 

Well,  bread  and  scrape  is  healthy. 
But  oh,  you  ice-cream  1 

FROM  THE  OTHER  SHJE 
KJOT  long  since  two  learned  Dutch 
doctors  between  them  contrived  a 
machine,  to  be  worked  electrically, 
which  would  admit  any  wandering 
spirit  to  its  tiny  chamber  and  permit 
him  to  write  his  impression  of  the 
world  beyond  this.  One  entered  and 
wrote,  with  a  sense  of  spirit  humor 
which  must  make  him  delightful  com- 
pany in  the  Green  Room  behind  the 
curtain  which  hangs  before  the 
Theatre  of  Life,  a  description  of  what 
spirits  look  like,  feel,  behave,  and  end 
up  with.  As  to  the  latter,  we  may  say 
that  they  wave  nebulous  arms  and  dis- 
solve into  the  atmosphere,  becoming  a 
part  of  it.  The  spirit  wrote  as  one 
having  yearnings  after  this  good  old 
earth  and  its  fleshpots,  chorus  girls, 
cold  bottles,  hot  birds  and  other  of  the 
Plagues  of  Egypt,  as  in  Cleopatra's 
days.  So  much  for  the  Dutch  doctors. 
In  her  book,  over  which  the  world  is- 
wagging  tongues,  Elsa  Barker,  a  writer, 
poetess  and  lecturer  of  Los  Angeles, 
gives  the  letters  of  a  dead-living  man. 
Judge  Hatch,  a  corporation  lawyer  ancf 
Supreme  Court  Judge,  a  most  philo- 
sophic and  practical  man  who  never 
during  his  life  appeared  to  be  in  the 
least  concerned  with  spiritualism  or 
spirit  messages. 

One  evening  in  Paris,  Miss  Barker 
felt  a  strange  desire  to  sit  down  and 


CANADA  MOX'mL\- 


275 


writf.  She  did  so,  when  some  force 
seized  the  pen  and  caused  her  to  write 
the  strange  matter  which  makes  her 
book.  It  is  indeed  strange,  and  the 
reading  gives  one  a  forlorn  sense  of 
dismay  and  unhappiness. 

For  instance,  Jud^e  Hatch  tells  us 
that  there  is  real  life  over  there,  active, 
actual  human  life  where  we  eat,  sleep, 
and  wear  clothes,  but  never  work  un- 
less we  want  to  work. 

Why,  you  may  ask,  should  this 
render  one  miserable  or  unhappy  ?  Is 
not  this  the  Heaven  we  would  all  wish 
— a  world  where  you  never  grow  fat 
but  move  with  "the  tenuous  matter 
of  the  spirit,"  where  you  have  but  to 
"think  clothes,"  and  you  will  be 
dressed  in  any  fashion  you  like,  and 
no  one  will  smile  at  you  if  you  choose 
hoops  and  a  spencer;  where  you  will 
feel  neither  heat  nor  cold  after  the  first 
few  days,  where  you  can  get  what  you 
want  instead  of  what  you  can  afford, 
and  where  you  can  talk  without  mov- 
ing your  lips  ?  Why  should  such  a 
revelation  leave  you  with  a  sense  of 
unhappiness  ? 

Because,  good  comrade,  it  is  too 
good  to  be  true.  Because  the  thought 
of  being  able  to  live  rent  free,  and  have 
spring  lamb  and  fresh  strawberries  in 
April,  wear  the  latest  Parisian  clothes, 
do  not  have  to  bother  about  the  last 
whirl  in  self-reducing  corsets  or, 
"Lillian  Russell's  Own  Beautifiers," 
at  so  much  per,  is  too  exquisite  a 
thought  to  be  ever,  anywhere  realized. 
To  have  the  chance  of  being  a  woman 
and  beautiful,-  forever  slender,  and 
have  any  color  hair  you  wish,  and  to 
be  loved,  and  go  through  all  the  merry 
chase  again,  and  tango  without  having 
your  knees  ache  and  grow  stiff,  and 
just  think  "Presto  !  Pedlar's  Pack  ! 
Cheque,  please  !"  To  have  all  these 
delightful  chances,  then  !  Alas,  that 
we  cannot  all  die  at  once  in  a  hurry 
and  partake  of  these  delights  and  let 
\ature  populate  as  she  will,  this  hard- 
Irivingv  •hard'-working  old  earth  of 
Murs. 

THE  THORN  BESIDE  THE  ROSE 

DUT  halt  !    As  in  everything  that 
relates  to  poor  humanity  there  is  a 
fly  in  our  ointment.     Says  the  mes- 
sage from  the  living-dead  man: — 

"We  can  even  live,  in  the  world 
l)eyond,  in  a  second-rate  boarding- 
house.  One  of  the  inhabitants  over 
here,  who,  by  reason  of  her  earth 
predilections,  lives  in  such  a  house, 
omplaincd  bitterly  because  the  food 
.ind  service  were  worse  than  on  earth." 
We  had  not  thought  this  possible. 
Such  knowledge  deprives  us  of  all  our 
imagined  heaven  in  a  world  beyond 
this.  When  we  think  of  Mrs.  A's 
prunes,  a  gluey,  glistening,  purple 
mess;  of  Mrs.  B's  lamb-chops  which 
loat-iikn    would    pursue    each    other 


The  Chef  of  Spotless  Town  is  gay — 
You'll  note  It  by  his  saucy  way. 
He  minces  dressing:  for  the  birds. 
But  doesn't  stop  to  mince  his  words. 
"It  saves  a  stew,"  says  he,  "to  know 
That  pots  demand 


^>$^  What  will  thoroughly  clean  kitchenware  ? 


Another  form  of 
cleanser  scrapes  off  the 
surface  dirt  but  fails  to 
get  under  the  bumt-in 
grease. 


Soap  removes  the 
surface  dirt  nicely.  But 
unfortunately,  soap  does 
not  "grip"  the  greasy 
grime. 


To  thoroughly  clean  kitchen  ware  you  want 
a  cleanser  like  Sapolio,  which  polishes  the  surface 
and,  at  the  same  time,  removes  every  trace  of 
grease. 

Sapolio  gives  real  suds.     It  works  vnth- 
oul  waste. 


FREE  SURPRISE  FOR  CHILDREN 


Dear  Children: 

We  have  a  surprise  for  you.  A  toy  Spotless  Town— just  like  the  real 
one  only  smaller.  It  is  S^^  inches  long.  The  nine  (9)  cunning  j^eople  of 
spotless    lown,  m  colors,  are  ready  to  cut  out  and  stand  up.     Sent  free  on 

*  CvJ  U  ^  o  L  • 

Enoch  Morgan's  Sons  Company,  Sole  Manufacturers,  New  York  City. 


CHILDREN'S    AILMENTS. 

For  the  relief  of  the  numerous  sim|)le  and  familiar  ailments  of 

Infants  and  young  Children,  especially  during  the  period  of 

teething,   there  is  nothing  to  equal 

WOODWARD'S  GRIPE  WATER.' 

It    relieves    and    prevents    Convulsions,    Gripes,    Acidity,    Klatulcncy, 

Wbooping  CouhIi,  Cr.iinp.   Sickness,  Dianhopa,  ice,  and  has  l)eUind  it 

a  lonj;  rcnml  of  Medical  Approv.al. 

It  oontaina  no  prnuimlion  nf  0/)i«m  or  other  Narcotic. 

For  *  healthy  chll.l,  a  aiimll  ilnso  onoo  or  Iwiro  a  day.  miiixl  with  the   (ood 

Iiromotin  iwrf.Kt  di|{i'«lion  uul  kcops  thn  wholi'  iy«l<'m  in  iinlir.  ' 

Of    «ny    DrMKBlsta.  80    aura    it's    WOODWARD-a 


-:«»..  t:-^vmi\ 


276 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


"^E   CANE    SMOl^ 


FINE  GRAIN 


MEQIUM  GRAIN 


CCmSECR/UN 


T 


'WO  brands  of  sugar  may  be  sold  at  the 
same  price  and  look  exactly  alike,  but 
in  sweetening  properties  and  purity  of  ingredients, 
may  be  quite  different. 

St.  Lawrence  Sugar  is  manufactured  from  the  finest  selected  fully 
matured  cane  sugar  and  is  99.99  per  cent.  pure. 

For  actural  sweetening  properties  St.  Lawrence  Sugar   is  unsurpassed 
by, any  brand  on  the  market. 

The   process  of   manufacture  takes  place  under  conditions  the  most 
cleanly  and  sanitary   imaginable. 

To  insure  its  delivery  to  you  absolutely  pure  and  free  from  contami- 
nation, every  package  or  bag  of  St.  Lawrence  Sugar  is  kept  hermetic- 
ally sealed  from   the  time  it  leaves  the  factory  until  opened  by  you. 

St.  Lawrence  Sugar  is  manufactured  in  grains  of  three  different 
sizes,  known  as  Fine.  Medium  and  Coarse,  the  sizes  being 
indicated  by  different  colored  labels. 

A  Red  Label  is  used  for  Fine  Grain,  a  Blue  Label  for 

Medium  Grain,  and  a  Green  Label  for  Coarse  Grain. 

St.  Lawrence  Sugar  is  packed  in  hermetically  sealed  cartons  of 

2  lbs- and  5  lbs.  each,  and  likewise  in  bags  of  10  lbs..  20  lbs., 

25  lbs.,  50  lbs.,  and  100  lbs. 

Be  sure  and  ask  your  grocer  for  St.  Lawrence  Sugar. 
St.  Lawrence  Sugar  Refineries,  Limited,  Montreal. 


Pick  the  Feathers  Off 

Honestly  seems  as  though  you  could,  when  you're  just  a  com- 
fortable gun  shot  away^and  you'll  agree  after  you've  shot  over 
Mason  Decoys,  that  Ducks,  Snipe,  Geese,  Swan  and  Crows 
can't  tell  the  difference  either.  We  make  mates" and  companions 
for  all  of  them.  Largest  manufacturers  in  the  world.  Send  for 
catalog.     All  sportsmen  should  have  it. 

■PREMIER"  MALl.AKD.  ReK.  U  S.  Pat.  Office.  MASON'S    DECOY    FACTORY.    460  Br»«kly    Avenue.    Detroit.  Mich- 


MORE  SONNETS 

OF  AN 

OFFICE 

BOY 

By  S.  E.  KISER. 

PRICE 

75  CENTS. 

VANDERHOOFGUNN  CO. 

,  Limited,     • 

TORONTO.  ONT. 

around  an  arid  expanse  of  plate;  or 
the  coffee-grounds  served  daily  by 
Mrs.  C,  and  of  Mrs.  D's  damnable 
beef  hash  being  served  in  worse  fashion 
than  we  know  here  below,  we  fall  to 
lamenting  our  probable  resting  place 
in  Nirvana,  and 'allow  that  we  are  very 
comfortable  where  we  are,  thank  you. 

THE  GRAVER  SIDE 

DUT  lest  you  think  we  speak  too 
lightly  of  such  grave  matters,  let 
us  take  for  a  moment  the  more  serious 
view  and  profit  by  a  word  of  advice 
from  a  "far  countrie"  indeed: — 

"The  object  of  life,"  proclaims  the 
alleged  visitant  from  another  world, 
"is  life  .  .  .  It  is  useless  to  say, 
'If  I  had  my  life  to  live  over  again,' 
for  no  man  has  any  particular  life  to 
live  over  again.  Every  man  has  his 
next  life  to  prepare  for.  You  should 
get  away  from  the  mental  habit  of 
regarding  your  present  life  as  the  only 
one;  get  rid  of  the  idea  that  the  life 
you  expect  to  lead  on  this  side,  after 
your  death,  is  to  be  an  endless  exist- 
ence in  one  state.  You  could  no  more 
endure  such  an  endless  existence  in 
the  subtle  manner  of  the  inner  world 
than  you  could  endure  to  live  forever 
in  the  gross  matter  in  w-hich  you  are 
now  encasecl.  You  would  weary  of  it. 
You  could  not  support  it.  There  is  a 
oerpetual  law  of  rhythm,  action  and 
reaction,  flux  and  reflux  in  life  and 
after  life.  The  atheist  who  denies 
that  there  is  a  life  after  death  may,  by 
his  will,  continue  to  exist  in  the  after 
life  for  ages  in  a  sort  of  cataleptic 
condition  while  other  spirits  pass  and 
repass  and  are  born  again  until  their 
cycle  is  complete." 

This,  as  you  will  see,  is  a  sort  of 
Theosophistical  Swedenborgianism,  if 
you  will  pardon  the  long  words.  Ac- 
cording to  our  ghostly  authority,  we 
die  in  spirit  land  as  we  die  here.  The 
old  fellow  of  the  skull  and  cross-bones 
waves  his  banner  there  as  here.  As 
we  mortals  take  on  immortality,  so  do 
we  as  immortals  take  on  mortality 
again,  and  nestle  against  the  bosom 
of  a  human  mother.  The  spirit  goes 
out  and  the  earthly  body  dies.  It 
comes  back  and  an  earthly  life  begins. 
Our  hells  "over  there"  are  self-made, 
just  as  they  are  here.  The  way  to 
realize  the  spiritual  life,  is  to  begin  to 
live  it  now.  Think,  meditate,  let  your 
imagination  soar.  Drop  everything 
occasionally  that  binds  the  soul  too 
closely  to  earth.     Take  time  to  loaf. 

This  is  the  sum-up  of  these  remark- 
able alleged  letters  from  another  world . 
But  the  last  message  is  wisdom  itself: 
"Live,"  says  Judge  Hatch,  or  rather 
his  spirit,  "Live  as  long  as  you  can; 
but  when  you  must  die,  let  go." 

In  her  letter  to  her  publishers,  Elsa 
Barker  says:  "I  give  you  my  personal 
assurance  unqualified  by  any  reserva- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


277 


tion  whatever,  that  the  experiences 
recorded  in  this  book  occurred  pre- 
cisely as  I  have  explained  in  the  intro- 
duction." Miss  Barker  is  neither 
hysterical  nor  neurotic.  Judge  Hatch 
was  a  business  man.  Miss  Barker 
alleges  that  the  Judge  seized  her  hand 
with  the  pen  in  it  and  wrote.  Mr. 
Stead  believed  in  the  "Letters  From 
Julia."'     What  do  you  think  ? 

THE  HEATHEN  CHINEE 
^NE  time  in  a  checkered  life,  the 
^^  Pedlar  made  a  speech,  or  gave  an 
improvised  lecture,  rather.  He  does 
not  remember  one  word  of  what  he 
said,  for  his  knees  were  trembling 
under  him  with  fright,  and  he  wore  a 
fixed  and  idiotic  grin  upon  his  visage. 
But  he  was  greatly  concerned  to  see  a 
number  of  clerics,  "Ralph  Connor"  we 
think  was  among  them,  rise  and  stalk 
offendedly  out.  Next  day,  the  news- 
papers recorded  his  sin.  He  had,  in  a 
moment  of  truthfulness,  said  what  he 
thought  in  regard  to  missions  to  the 
heathen — and  he  thought  a  good  deal. 
We  are  delighted  to  find  the  excellent 
Mr.  Wu,  one  time  Chinese  Minister  to 
Washington,  bearing  out  our  views  in 
his  subtle  and  fascinating  book  about 
the  Western  World,  especially  the 
American  Continent. 

Mr.  or  rather  Dr.  Wu  has  an  ideal 
Chinese  face.  That  is,  a  grim  and 
square  mouth  and  jaw,  and  the  usual 
lofty  cheek  bones.  But  his  eyes  are 
wells  of  humor.  It  was  once  our 
honorable  joy  and  privilege  to  meet 
him,  and  we  found  it  difficult  not  to 
fall  in  love  with  the  most  inquisitive, 
satirical,  humorous  a'nd  intellectual 
man  whom  it  was  ever  our  luck  to  con- 
verse with. 

In  his  book.  Dr.  Wu  Ting-fang 
(L.  L.  D.)  lays  emphasis,  recurrent 
emphasis,  upon  our  moral  and  religious 
deficiencies.  He  suggests  in  all  seri- 
ousness that  "Asia  will  have  to  civilize 
the  West  over  again."  That  was  the 
point  the  Pedlar  made  in  his  discourse; 
i.e.,  that  it  was  rather  impertinent  in 
us  to  assume  that  age-old  religions 
and  philosophies  were  all  wrong  be- 
cause they  did  not  conform  to  Chris- 
tianity, which  beside  them  is  modern. 
One  almost  involuntarily  smiles  when 
we  hear  the  mission  to  the  "Heathen" 
Chinese  discussed.  Dr.  Wu^  gives  a 
few  good  natured  thrusts  at  us,  as  in 
the  following: — 

"In  China  we  do  not  expend  as  much  energy 
as  Americans  and  Europeans  in  trying  to  make 
other  people  good.  VV'c  try  to  be  good  our- 
selves and  believe  that  good  example,  like  a 
pure  fragrance,  will  influence  others  to  be  like- 
wise." 

Again,  in  his  chapter  on  "Women" 
this  brilliant  "heathen,"  points  out 
that  the  manner  in  which  a  son  treats 
his  parents  in  this  country  is  diametric- 
cally  opposed  to  the  Chinese  doctrine, 
handed  down  from  time  immemorial. 
He  remarks: 


jr^:md 


If  you  want  the  safest  car— 
you  want  the  Ford.  Its 
Vanadium  steel  construction 
— its  design  and  perfect  bal- 
ance make  it  the  strongest 
and  lightest  car  on  the  market. 
Its  planetary  transmission 
makes  it  the  safest  and  easiest 
to  control.  The  Ford  is  the 
"Safety  First"  car. 


Runabout  $600.  Touring  Car  $650.  Town  Car 
$900— f.  0.  b.  Ford,  Ontario.  Complete  with 
equipment.  Any  branch  Manager,  or  from  Ford 
Motor  Co.,  Ltd.,  Ford,  Ont.,  Canada. 


THE 

EASIEST  WAY 
IS  THE 
SAFEST  WAY 


Your  jams  and  preserves  will  keep  indefinitely  if  they 
are  sealed  with 

It's  much   easier  than  tying  the  tops  of  your  jams 
with  string—  and  it's  a  good  deal  safer,  too. 

Put  up  In  handy  one  pound  cartons 
of  four  cakea  each.    At  your  grocera. 

THE  IMPERIAL  OIL  COMPANY.   Limited 

Toronto  Montreal  WinnipcK 

Ottawa  Ouebec  Calxary 

Halifax  St.  John  R«f[in« 


278 


This  Mop  has  Proven 
its  Worth. 

Ask  Your  Neighbor. 

That  more  than  one  million  people 
are  to-day  users  of  the 

0€fe!M^P 

is  hard-to-beat  evidence  of  its 
real  worth.  Each  sale  makes  a 
new  friend  and  leads  to  other 
sales^the  best  kind  of  recom- 
mendation. 

Unexcelled  in  the  cleaning  and 
polishing  of  hardwood  floors — 
makes  them  last  longer. 

Raises  no  dust — absorbs  the 
dust.  High  up  or  low  down,  be- 
tween banisters,  tops  of  furniture 
or  mouldings,  under  the  beds — 
gets  easily  at  all  the  hard-to-get- 
at  places. 

— ^Buy  from  your  dealer,  or  sent 
express  paid  anywhere  in  Cana- 
da for  $1.50. 

Channell  Chemical  Co. 

LIMITED, 

369  Sorauren  Ave.,  Toroato. 


RIDER  ASENTS  WANTED 


■■■liilnn  M  iWa  mmt  cmhikk  s 


W*  ship  an  apitroval  to 

any  a44rM>  is  Camada.  ■IHnat  amf 
lapaalt.  aad  alWw  1  0  DAYS'  TVIAL 
II  will  nat  caat  r«a  a  cant  Ifyaa  af«  aat 
■  irtilaH  aftar  aslac  bicvda  ta  4mf%. 

DO  NOT  BUY  :/l^ti£^. 

racatra  our  Ulaat  1914  Illtiatrala4  cata- 
laraa  and  hara  laarBa4  mmg  tyadal 
paloas  and   attractlva   pi  if  aallkaii. 

nUC  PEUT  '•  »"  ■'  "■"  '^•** 
UnL  bCn  I  you  to  write  ua  a 

paatal,  aad  catakcua  aad  full  Infaf. 
nadaa  will  t>a  Mat  to  yau  Vr%% 
Poatpitid    br  tatun  atalL      D* 

not  watlt.   wtita  it  now. 
■TSLOP  BROTHERB,  Umttad 
Di«t.  CM  TOMNTO,  Oamtk 


Salesmen  Wanted 

We  have  several  openings  for  live  business 
getting  salesmen  with  good  records.  Ad- 
dress salesmanager. 

JAMES  P.  EASTON  &  COMPANY 
126  Victoria  Square  Montreal 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"  'Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother,'  is  an 
injunction  of  Moses  which  all  Christians  pro- 
fess to  observe,  but  which,  or  so  it  appears  to  a 
Confucianist,  all  equally  forget.  The  Con- 
fucian creed  lays  it  down  as  the  essential  duty 
of  children  that  they  shall  not  only  honor  and 
obey  their  parents,  but  that  they  are  in  duty 
bound  to  support  them.  The  view  of  this 
question  taken  in  America  seems  to  be  very 
strange  to  me.  Once  I  heard  a  young  Ameri- 
can argue  in  thi«  way.  He  said,  gravely  and 
seriously,  that  as  he  was  brought  into  this 
world  by  his  parents  without  his  consent,  it 
was  their  duty  to  rear  him  in  a  proper  way, 
but  that  it  was  no  part  of  his  duty  to  support 
them.  I  was  very  much  astounded  at  this 
statement.  In  China  such  a  son  would  be 
despised,  and  if  he  neglected  to  maintain  his 
parents  he  would  be  punished 

"From  personal  observation  I  have  formed 
the  opinion  that  the  Chinese  are  more  con- 
tented than  the  Americans,  and  on  the  whole 
happier  ....  In  China,  no  man  is  with- 
out friends,  or  if  he  is,  it  is  his  own  fault.  .  . 
Your  religion  has  apparently  little  influence  on 
Western  civilization;  it  is  the  corner-stone  of 
society  in  all  Asiatic  civilizations." 

THE  CARDINAL  PRINCIPLES   OF 
CONFUCIUS 

Honesty  is  the  best  policy. 

Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother. 

Universal  brotherhood. 

Love  of  mankind. 

Charity  to  all. 

Purity  in  thought  and  action. 

Pure  food  makes  a  pure  body. 

Happiness  consists  of  health  and  a 
pure  conscience. 

Live  and  let  live. 

Respect  a  man  for  his  virtues,  not 
for  his  money  or  position. 

Fiat  justitia,  ruat  coelum. 

Bear  no  malice  against  anyone. 

Be  equitable  and  just  to  all  men. 

Liberty  and  freedom,  but  not  license. 

Do  not  unto  others  what  ye  would 
not  that  others  should  do   unto  you. 

Do  you  not  think  that  people  fol- 
lowing such  a  creed  and  command- 
ments as  the  above  can  very  well  do 
without  our  missions  and  preachers  ? 
It  seems  to  us  much  the  same  teaching 
as  our  Saviour  gave  unto  us.  Are  we 
Christians  so  very  free  of  beam  or 
mote  in  our  own  eye  that  we  can  afford 
to  discern  either  in  the  eye  of  our 
brother  ?  Have  we  forgotten  Tid- 
dartha?  The  Light  of  Asia  ?  or  is  it 
our  enormous  vanity  in  the  color  of 
our  skin  that  authorizes  our  very 
superior  airs  ? 

CIRCUS   DAY 

T  is  a  day  in  August  and  the  circus  is 
in  our  town.  You  know  what  cir- 
cus day  in  a  small  town  means  ?  The 
early  arrival  of  the  trains,  the  unloading 
of  the  wagons,  the  magical  growth  of 
the  encampment,  the  street  parade, 
the  tremendous  crowds  of  ciirious 
country  people,  the  garish  show  itself, 
the  pulling  down  at  night  and  the 
hurried  departure  for  the  next  town. 
Like  us,  you  have  seen  this  picture, 
and  like  us  and  the  small  boy  you  have 
gorged  yourself  on  circus.  Our  circus 
stopped  with  us  for  two  days,  and  we 


I 


SAFETY  FIRST 

IS  MOST  ESSENTIAL  and  this  bona- 
fide  offer  is  worthy  of  vour  consideration. 


r $500  > 


I  INSURANCE  J 


KEY 


OA,f  YE^*> 


FOR  one  dollar  a  year  we  protect  your 
keys  with  an  identification  tag  and  give 
you  an  Accident  Insurance  Policy  for  five 
hundred  dollars,  in  the  North  American 
Accident  Insurance  Company,  Toronto  and 
Montreal,  enclosed  in  a  neat  leather  case. 

Mailad  Poatpaid  to  Aay   Addresa  in  Canada 
KEY  REQISTRT  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Limited 

CHIEF  OFFICES: 

C.  P.  R.  BuiUllng  Dom.  Expresa  Builrllng 

Toroato        M.  6300  Moalreal       M.  1424 

B.J.SIMONS.  ^.-—r-~^         R.FASKER, 

Prc9  and  Man.  Dir-      ^^<?^^i«ii'L^'*>w  Vfcr-Preo. 


r^'-^L. , 


The  Policy  issued  to  either  sex 
from  ages  16  to  60  inclusive. 

The  Tag  can  be  attached  to  any 
other  article  of  value.  The  Com- 
pany pays  the  reward. 

We  have  clients  from  coast  to  coast 
and  the  proposition  is  endorsed  by  lead- 
ing financial  men  in  Canada. 

Accidents    happen    any    minute — 

Send  your  dollar  now  with  name,  address 
and  occupation. 

Key  Registry  Co.  of  Canada,  Limited 

C.  p.  R.  Bnildint,  Toronto,  Ont. 


"A  GOOD  THING"— 

You  can  make  good  money  acting  as  our  repre- 
sentative in  your  district.  We  will  be  exhibiting 
our  7  ditferent  makes  of 

CAPIL  LAC 

VACUUM  CLEANERS 

at  Toronto  Exhibition;  beneath  Grand  Stand. 
West  entrance.  Look  us  up  and  discuss  the  propo- 
sition witn  us,  or  write  now  for  particulars. 

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74  Duchess  Street,  Toronto. 


went  four  times.  Our  ears  yet  ring 
with  the  sound  of  brass  instruments. 
We  dreamt  only  last  night  of  riding 
round  the  ring  balanced  on  our  corn- 
iest toe  on  the  fat  back  of  a  prancing 
white  horse.  We  have  felt  ourselves 
turning  back  somersaults  in  mid-air  in 
our  sleep,  and  once  we  awoke  from 
a  nightmare  in  which  we  saw  our- 
selves as  the  Fat  Lady  and  the  Bearded 
Dame  in  one.  We  yet  smell  the 
animals  and  hear  the  purring  roar  of 
the  lions,  and  the  shrilling  of  the 
monkeys  who  are  so  very  like  friends 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


279 


of  ours  in  appearance.  We  enjoyed 
all  the  fun  when  quite  in  the  midst  of 
it  we  remembered  the  work,  and  set 
about  interviewing  the  largest  of  the 
elephants. 

He  was  a  satirical  chap  and  a  lei- 
surely, owing  to  his  having  his  trunk 
packed  and  ready  to  move  at  any 
moment.  But  he  had  a  business 
aptitude  that  was  amazing  and  from 
him  we  learned  that  what  was  to  old 
people,  pedlars,  children  and  the  like 
a  day  of  gaiety  and  pleasure,  meant  the 
culmination  of  a  long,  careful,  toil- 
some and  costly  preparation  to  his 
owners  and  employers.  Pedlars,  who 
are  tramps  of  the  world,  know  all  the 
languages  of  man,  beast,  bird  and 
insect,  but  you,  who  have  no  need  to 
cry  your  wares  in  the  deaf  ears  of  a 
world,  could  not  be  expected  to  under- 
stand the  conversation  of  an  elephant. 

WHAT  CIRCUS  DAY  COSTS 

'T'AKING  for  granted  a  large  and 
well  known  caravansarai,  such  as 
that  to  which  ourelephant.Old  Phoenix, 
belongs,  to  get  ready  for  circus  day  has 
been  the  work  of  many  months.  A 
score  of  agents,  each  an  expert  in  his 
particular  field  have  had  their  atten- 
tion and  talents  employed  in  it.  It 
has  cost  thousands  of  dollars  in  trans- 
portation preparation,  lot  and  license. 
Then  there  are  the  billboard  men,  the 
press  agent,  who  fixes  up  newspaper 
advertising  contracts,  the  advance 
agents  who  arrange  for  the  show  to 
appear  in  certain  towns  along  the 
ordained  route,  the  route  riders  who 
inspect  the  bill  posters'  work,  the 
supply  agents  foraging  for  the  com- 
missary department,  the  layers-out 
who  fix  lot,  route  of  procession,  train 
tracks,  the  water  supply  and  the  feed 
for  the  aimals.  These  compose  the 
advance  department  of  which  the 
outsider  who  goes  to  see  the  fun  never 
hears. 

There  are  then  concessions  to  the 
newspapers,  dead  heads,  the  gamble 
on  the  weather,  the  temper  of  the 
players  and  the  animals  and  the  prob- 
able gains  or  losses  to  take  into 
account.  We  heard  a  man  grouch,  as 
he  felt  alx)ut  in  his  pocket  for  a  coin: 
'These  here  circuses  charge  too  much; 
the  seats  is  uncomfortable,  an'  I  never 
seen  much  to  brag  on  when  I  got  in 
the   tent." 

Out  upon  such  curmudgeons  ! 

"What  d'ye  think  we  lost  last  year 
on  the  two  days  spent  in  this  het-e 
very  town  ?'"  a.sked  old  Phoenix 
through  his  cockney  keeper — "W'y, 
we  wos  hout  twelve  thousand  dollars, 
all  'cause  we  struck  two  stormy  d'ys, 
one  with  the  thunder  a-growlin'  an' 
the  lightnin'  a-flashing  all  d'y,  and  the 
next  with  the  rain  a-powerin'  down. 
Didn't  we,  Old  Sox  ?"  And  the  Phoe- 
nix squealed  with  joy  when  the  little 


Arrogant  Prices 

The  evidence  is  that 
Goodyear  tires  are  the  best 
tires  built  to-day.  They 
outsell  any  other.  And  they 
won  that  place  by  millions 
of  mileage  tests. 

If  that  is  so,  an  extra 
price  means  simple  arro- 
gance. Or  it  is  used  to  in- 
fer an  extra  quality,  which 
doesn't  and  cannot  exist. 
Or  it  is  forced  by  limited, 
high-cost  production. 

None  of  those  reasons 
warrants  you  in  paying  the 
higher  prices. 

Our  Latest  Saving 

Price  is  our  latest  saving. 
For  years  we  worked  solely 
to  increase  the  Goodyear 
mileage.  No-Rim-Cut  tires 
then  cost  you  more  than 
others. 

We  reached  the  present- 
day  limit  in  good  tires,  then 
turned  our  eflforts  to  reduc- 
ing cost.  Now  No-Rim- 
Cut  tires  cost  you  half  what 
they  used  to  cost.  Last 
year's  reductions  totaled 
23%. 

And  many 
of  the  tires 
which  once 
und  ersold 
us,  cost  you 
more    than 


A  Sure  25  % 

SAVED  ON  TIRES 

18  makes  of  tires  now  sell  above 
Goodyear  prices.  Half  of  them 
sellj  about  one-third  higher.  As 
between  them  and  Goodyears,  you 
are  sure  of  one  saving — right  at 
the  start^of  25  per  cent. 

Goodyears  now.  One  reason 
lies  in  the  modern  equip- 
ment and  high  efficiency 
of  our  great  Bowmanville 
factory. 

Thiags  Others  Lack 

These  four  features  of  No- 
Rim-Cut  tires  are  found  in 
no  others,  whatever  the 
price : 

First,  our  No-Rim-Cut 
feature. 

Second,  our  "On- Air" 
cure — ^done  to  save  the 
countless  blow-outs  due  to 
wrinkled  fabric. 

Third,  our  patent  method 
for  combating  tread  separ- 
ation. 

Fourth,  our  All-Weather 
tread — our  double-thick, 
resistless  anti-skid,  yet  as 
flat  and  smooth  running  as 
a  plain  tread. 

These  are  all  costly  fea- 
tures. One  of  them  adds  to 
our  own  cost  immensely. 
Yet  we  offer  them  all  in 
No-Rim-Cut  tires,  and  no 
high-priced  tire  offers  one 
of  them. 

If  these 
facts  appeal 
to  you,  ask 
your  dealer 
to  s up p  1  y 
you  Good- 
year tires. 


GOOD^TEAR 

^^  CiS»^         TORONTO 

NORIMCUT  TIRES 

With  All-Weather  Treads  or  Smooth 


THE  GOODYEAR  TIRE  &  RUBBER  COMPANY  OF  CANADA,  Limited 


Haad  Ofrice.  TORONTO 


Factory.  BOWMANVILXX,  ONT. 


280 


A  Real 
Cooking  Help 

Not  only  to  lend  its  unique,  de- 
licious and  unrivalled  flavor  todes- 
serts.  dainties,  candies  and  ices,  but 

MAPLEINE 


Gives  zest  and  body 
to  meat,  soups,  sauces, 
baked  beans,  etc. 


2  OZ.  BOTTLE 
50  CENTS 


Get    it    from    your 
grocer,  or  write 


CRESCENT  MFG.  CO 

Dept.  G  SEATTLE,  WN 

Send  2c.  stamp  for  Recipe  Book. 


l) 


THE  COAST  UlfME  TO 


IVl^A^CKIIM 


DETROIT,  y  TOLEDO, 

CLEVELAND,  BUFFALO,  |  PT.HURON,  ALPENA, 

NIAGARA  FALLS.      ^  ST.  I6NACE. 

"THE  LAKES  ARE  CALLING  YOU" 

ARRANGE  your  vacation  or  business  trip  to  include  our 
.  palatial  lake  steamers.  Every  detail  that  counts  for 
your  convenience  and  comfort  has  been  provided. 

Daily  service  between  Detroit  and  Cleveland,  and  Detroit 
and  Buffalo.  Day  trips  between  Detroit  and  Cleveland 
during  July  and  August.  Four  trips  weekly  from  Toledo 
and  Detroit  to  Mackinac  Island  and  way  ports.  Special 
Steamer  Cleveland  to  Mackinac  Island  two  trips  weekly 
June  23th  to  September  lOth,  making  no  stops  enroute 
except  at  Detroit  every  trip.  Daily  service  between 
Toledo  and  Put-in-Bay  June  1 0th  to  September  1 0th, 

Railroad  tickets  accepted  for  transportation  on  D.  &  C, 
Line  steamers  in  either  direction  between  Detroit  and 
Buffalo  or  Detroit  and  Cleveland. 

Send  two-cent  stamp  for  illustrated  pamphlet  giving  detailed 
description  of  various  trips.  Address  l»  G.  uiufis.  General 
Fassenger  Agent,  Detroit,  Mich. 

Detroit  &  Cleveland  Navigation  Company 

Philip   H.    McMillan,    President. 

A.  A.   Schantz,   Vice  Pres.  and  Genl.  Mgr, 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

man  poked  between  his  giant  ribs  or 
where  his  giant  ribs  might  be  supposed 
to  be. 


I 


Short -Story  Writing 

A  Course  of  forty  lessons  in  the  history, 
form,  structure,  and  writing  of  the 
Short-Story  taught  by  Dr.  J.  Berg 
Esenwein,  Editor  of  Lippincott's  Magazine. 
One  stadlnl  writes:  "/  know  thai  you  will 
be  pleased  when  I  tell  yoa  that  I  have  just 
received  a  check  for$I25  from  'Everybody's' 
for  a  hamorous  story.  They  ask  for  more, 
I  am  feeling  very  happy,  and  very  grateful  to 
Dr.  Esenwein. ' ' 

Also  courses  in  Photoplay  Writing,  Versi- 
fication and  Poetics,  Journalism.  In  all, 
over  One  Hundred  Courses,  under  profes- 
sors in  Harvard,  Brown,  Cornell,  and  other 
leading  colleges. 

2S0-Page  Catalog  Free,    Pteame  AddreaM 
The  Home  Correspondence  School 

Dept.  297  Springfield,  Mass. 


GOLDEN  DAYS 
HEAR,  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill, 
the  climbing  feet  of  Autumn.  Al- 
ready she  has  passed  through  the  low- 
lands, touching  all  growing  things 
lightly  with  her  staff  of  crimson  and 
gold.  Soon  she  will  appear  on  the 
summit,  her  brows  vine-bound,  her 
raiment  of  purple  and  orange  and 
flame.  Presently  too,  lying  awake  in 
the  night,  we  will  hear  the  plaintive 
notes  of  the  birds  passing  from  one 
summerland  to  another  just  as  yester- 
night we  heard  them  coming  to  our 
northern  woods  to  set  up  house  and 
bring  forth  their  tiny  birdlings. 
Autumn  is  beginning  to  gather  her 
threads  for  the  looming.  What  fabrics 
she  will  weave,  shot  with  scarlet  and 
edged  with  purple.  What  veils  of 
amethyst  and  silver,  what  shimmering 
mantles  of  gold  and  scarlet  and  the 
rich  orange  that  flares  amid  the  green. 
The  crickets  are  chirping  merrily,  the 
tree  toad  still  sings  his  little  song,  but 
the  pond  frogs  are  growing  silent. 
The  dust  of  hot  summer  lies  thick  on 
roadside  bush  and  grass.  The  world 
looks  a  little  tired  as  if  it  had  been 
holidaying  too  much  and  wanted  rest. 
The  prelude  to  the  most  exquisite  time 
of  all  the  Canadian  year  is  being  sung 
by  the  little  grasshoppers  and  crickets 
and  musical  insects  of  the  night.  The 
white  flowers  in  the  garden  send  up 
their  most  delicate  odors  to  our  eyrie 
near  the  top  of  the  old  pear  tree  bending 
under  its  weight  of  russet  fruit.  Down 
there  you  can  see  strange  white  winged 
things  speeding  among  the  roses  of 
Sharon.  The  divine  opera  of  autumn 
is  about  to  commence.  Nature,  at 
rest,  is  already  seated  in  the  stall  wait- 
ing for  the  gorgeous  opening  scenes  of 
gold  and  scarlet,  of  diaphanous  drapery 
and  amethyst  mist.  The  scenery  is 
set.  The  crickets  are  tuning  up  and 
the  ballet  of  those  twisting,  flying  gray 
things  of  the  night,  will  begin  in  a 
moment.  For  the  Queen  of  the  Can- 
adian seasons  is  here.  Do  you  not  hear 
the  fanfare  of  the  fairy  drums  from  the 
other  side  of  the  hill  ? 


At  Fort  Despair 

Continued  from  page  265. 

pered  and  reckoned  you  had  lost  the 
wine  of  life  by  being  an  outcast  from 
the  white  lights,  you  had  instead  been 
handed  a  gift  that  you  could  never 
repay — the  peace  of  the  northland. 

We  ran  inshore  to  a  little  cave  early 
one  night,  and  having  baked  our 
bannock  and  eaten  with  a  zest  un- 
known to  him  who  confronts  seven 
courses  and  dyspepsia,  we  sat  smoking 
by  the  fire  beneath  the  pines.       Far 


Ornamental 

I  RON 
FENCE 

As  Cheap  As  \A/ire 

Attractive,  Substantial 
Econonnical 

The    Fence   You    Should    Buy 
If  You  Want  Satisfaction 

—Write— 

The  Dennis  Wire  and  Iron 

Works  Co.  Limited 

London 


c  '^  rw  AO  A 


iuake: 
$200.00 

IMONTHi 


It  you  are  making  __  _  , 

less  ihaiiSGf*  a  week  J  V^  m.\^i^  \  i     m    a 

you  should  write  us  J 'JJr'::^Li-5ir     V    *     w__    . 

today.     We  can  help  you  to  wealth  and  Independence  by 

our  plan;  you  can   work    when   you   please,  where  you 

please,  always   have   money  and  the  means  of  making 

plenty  more  ot  It. 

JUST  LISTEN  TO  THIS.     One  man  traveled  from 

the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  He  mayed  at  the  best  hotels, 
lived  like  a  lord  wherever  he  went  and  cleaned  up  more 
tlrnn  $10  00  every  day  he  waa  out.  Another  man  worked 
the  fairs  and  summer  resorts,  and  when  there  waa  nothing 
special  to  do,  lust  started  out  on  any  street  he  happened 
to  select,  got  busy  and  took  in  $8.00  a  day  for  mouUi 
after  month.    This  Interests  you.  don't  It? 

MY  PROPOSITION 

la  a  WONDERFUL  NEW  CAMERA  with  which  you 
can  take  and  Instantaneously  develop  pictures  on  paper 
Post  Cards  and  Tintypes.  Every  picture  Is  developed 
without  the  use  of  films  or  negatives,  and  is  ready  al- 
most Instantly  to  deliver  to  your  customer.  THIS  RE- 
MARKABLE INVENTION  takes  100  pictUTca  an  hour 
and  gives  you  a  profit  from  500  to  1500  percent.  Every- 
body wanta  pictures  and  each  sale  you  make  advertises 
your  business  and  makes  more  sales  for  you.  Simple  In- 
Btructions  accompany  each  outfit,  and  you  can  begiii  to 
make  money  the  same  day  the  outfit  reaches  you. 

WE  TRUST  YOU 

so  MUCH  CONFIDENCE  HAVE  WE  In  our  proposi- 
tion that  we  TRUST  YOU  for  part  of  the  cost  ol  the  out- 
fit. The  regular  selling  price  o(  the  Camera  and  complete 
working  outfit  la  reasonable.  The  profits  are  so  big, 
8o  quick,  so  sure,  that  you  could  alTord  to  pay  the  full 
price  If  we  asked  you  to  do  so.  But  we  are  so  absolutely 
certain  that  j-ou  can  make  big  money  from  the  start 
that  we  trust  you  for  a  8ut>stantlal  sum,  which  you  need 
not  pay  unless  you  clean  up  $200,00  the  first  montb. 
FAIR  ENOUGH.   ISN'T  IT? 

Do  not  delay  a  minute  but  write  us  today  for  our  free 
catalog  and  full  particulars. 
I.   USCELLE,   70    Lomliaril   St.,  De»t.    1<»  Torooto,  ObL 


above  our  heads  swooped  and  rustled 
the  long  triangular  squadrons  of  the 
geese  flying  south  for  their  winter 
haunts  in  the  bayous  and  marshes  by 
the  gulf.  Their  plaintive  "honk-honk" 
drifted  down  to  us — the  warning  to  the 
dwellers  of  the  northland  that  the  big 
snows  would  soon  be  upon  us. 

Old  Phil  was  in  a  talkative  mood, 
most  uncomijion  thing  with  him  and 
his  kind,  for  the  silence  of  the  barrens 
seems  to  enter  the  very  souls  of  these 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


281 


men  of    the   wood   and    water    trails. 

I  had  been  trying  in  my  stilted  way 
to  tell  him  something  of  the  roar  and 
rush  of  the  cities  that  lay  away  to  the 
south  and  east,  for  he  had  never  been 
further  south  than  Edmonton;  and  I 
described  the  crowds,  the  endless 
stream  of  waxen,  corpse-like  faces 
beneath  the  sizzling  lights,  the  feeling 
that  you  are  passing  a  procession  of 
spooks  when  you  drift  in,  browned  and 
wind  tanned,  from  the  open  places  of 
the  earth. 

The  stories  that  may  be  read  in  the 
faces  on  the  streets  had  always  been  a 
pet  theme  of  mine,  and  I  was  explain- 
ing laboriously  to  Phil  how  I  used  to 
try  to  deduct  from  their  appearance 
the  life  of  this  man,  that  woman,  form- 
ing fantastic  comedies  and  tragedies 
from  the  faces  of  the  passers-by. 

"Sure,  that  would  be  mighty  inter- 
estin',"  grunted  Phil,  stooping  to  light 
his  pipe  with  a  glowing  stick  plucked 
from  the  fire.  "But  how  often  would 
you  strike  truth  in  your  idea.  There 
seems,  even  to  me,  who  has  never  in 
all  my  sixty  years  been  out  of  the 
North-West,  so  much  in  the  doin's  o' 
men  and  women  that  ye  could  never 
set  a  safe  trail  on. 

"You  may  think  an'  think,  and  yet 
you  can't  figure  out  the  facts  as  they 
may  really  be. 

"I  could  tell  you  of  such  a  story,  a 
happening  of  three  years  back,  when  a 
woman  and  two  men  were  mixed  up — 
folks  that  was  never,  by  the  grace  o' 
God,  meant  to  go  far  from  the  electric 
lights  an'  the  steam  heated  places 
where  they  bunk  on  top  o'  each  other, 
thicker  than  we  do  in  the  hotels  at  the 
Landing  when  we  wait  for  the  river 
to  open  up  in  spring. 

"Two  men  an'  a  woman  !  What 
was  it  that  ye  called  that  a  little  ago  ? 
I've  got  it, — the  eternal — tangle — 
triangle. 

"It  was  in  the  late  fall  and  I  was 
lying  over  at  Fort  Wrigley,  on  the 
Mackenzie  River.  I  had  just  come 
back  from  the  country  around  the 
Horn  Mountains,  where  for  three 
months  I'd  been  nussin'  a  party  of 
ge^jlogists. 

"Just  after  they  went  the  big  man, 
Travers,  came  up  the  river  along  with 
Tom  Seven  Persons,  the  breed  from 
Fort  Chipewyan.  Tom  was  wanting 
to  head  back  to  his  trapping  grounds, 
and  as  I  was  sort  o'  living  easy  I  hired 
out  to  pilot  the  big  man  north  and 
east  to  Great  Bear  Lake. 

"'Twas  near  to  the  first  snows, — 
later  on  in  the  fall  than  it  is  now — 
when  he  and  I  started  down  the  river 
for  Fort  Norman.  You  know,  Jim, 
that  I  ain't  a  man  that  you'd  call 
talkative  most  o'  the  time,  but  that 
man  Travers  was  silence  itself.  He 
was  thinkin',  thinkin,'  all  the  time; 
you'd  speak  to  him  but  his  mind  was — 


"That's  a  Credit 
to  Us!" 


Men   who  are    alive  to  the  value    of 
"prestige"  in  business,  and  the  best  ways 
of  building  it,  are  using  Peerless  products 
for  their  t3pewriting. 

Thcv  realize  what  an  asset  is 
the  clear  cut  beauty  of 
the  letters  they  send 
out.  They  know  that 
clean  and  permanent 
Carbon  copies  elimi- 
nate annoying  mis- 
takes in  referring  back 
to  the  fyles. 


Thcv  real: 

1 


PEgMSS 


CARBON 
PAPERS 


TYPEWRITER 
RIBBONS 


are  always  dependable  because  the>'  are  the 
product  of  the  highest  skill  and  the  best  , 
materials.  They  are  not  affected  by  ,''.. 
any  climate  and  are  unconditionally 
guaranteed.  65         y 


PEERLESS  CARBON  &  RIBBON  MFQ.  CO.  LIMITED 
176-178  Richmond  St.  W.,  Toronto,  Canada. 


PUBLIC  OPINION 

ALL  OVER  THE  WORLD 

Endorses  the 

UNDERWOOD 

It  has  Proved  itself  by  winning  all  world's  awards  for  merit 
Because  1  ^'  '^^^^^  "''  records  for  SPEED-ACCURACY-STABILITY. 
— «— ^— i—  It  holds  the  Elliott-Cresson  medal  awarded  by  the  Franklin 

Institute  of  Pennsylvania — the  highest  mechanical  award 

These  are  Features  no  Other 
Writing  Machine  can  Offer 

UNDERWOOD 

"THE  MACHINE  YOU  WILL  EVENTUALLY  BUY" 


282 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Broiling  or  toasting  is  done  better  and  more 
easily    because    the    broiler    door    on    a 

Pandora 

^^3 j*^^  permits  using  the  largest 
••^  \>       toaster  and  placing  it  close  to 
the  fire.  Interview  the  McClary  dealer,     ss 


Samuel  E.  Kiser's 

"More  Sonnets  of  an 
Office  Boy" 

The  hearts  of  men  hunger  for  the  Things  of  Youth.  You 
may  not  have  known  it,  but  that  is  what  has  been  hurting  you. 
Here  is  a  cure : 

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luck  god. 

It  is  something  every  man  who  had  a  real  childhood  should 
read.  It  will  bring  back  your  boyhood  days  with  a  bump.  The 
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fellow.  You  will  be  a  better  fellow  yourself.  You  can  get  it 
for  75  cents. 

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Publishers 

TORONTO 


"The  Sowing 


1 1 


Now  in  the 
2nd  Edition 


A  "Yankee's"  View  of  England's  Duty  to  Herself  and  Canada 

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God  knew  where.  We  paddled  away, 
day  after  day,  northwards  past  the 
Blackwater  River  where  to  the  east 
you  could  faintly  see  Mount  Bompas, 
and  on  past  the  mouth  of  Gravel  River 
to  Fort  Norman. 

"We  got  to  the  lake  and  I  pushed  on 
quick  as  I  could  across  Keith  Bay,  the 
southermost  aim  of  Great  Bear  Lake, 
to  Fort  Despair,  the  old  H.B.C.  place; 
an'  say,  the  very  name  was  too  good 
for  that  bleak,  wind-swept  post. 

"Do  you  remember  one  Mackay,  the 
squaw  man  who  used  to  be  factor  for 
the  Company  at  Trois  Loups  ?     Well, 
here  was  Mackay  at  Fort  Despair,  an' 
if  he  used  to  drink  at  Trois  Loups  he 
was  fairly  embalming  his  soul-ca.se  up 
at  Despair  !     We  was  fixed  up  there 
for  the  winter  anyhow,  for  we  could 
have  got  no  dogs  to  get  out.     It  was 
up  to  Travers  anyway,  and  he  seemed 
to  have  plenty  of  money.     Somehow 
he  hit  it  up  good  with  old    Mackay, 
and  they  certainly  made  some  hole  in 
the  rum  kegs.     Never  an  Indian  came 
near  the  fort.     God  knows  what  Mac- 
kay had  done  to  them,  and  the    only 
other  human  being  around  the  place 
was  Zenoni,  an  old  half-mad  Eyetalian 
who  had  drifted  in  from  Heaven  knew 
where.     He   was  as   crazy  as  a   bull 
caribou  at  mating  time,  and  he'd  sit 
by  the  stove  for  days  on  end  mutterin' 
an'   gruntin'    to   himself   and   playing 
on  a   flute  contraption   that  he  had. 
He  was  wonderful  similar  to  the  big 
fellow,   for  he'd   play  over  and   over 
a  tune  that  he  called  Humoresque ;    but 
I  never  could  see  anything  funny  about 
it,  the  way  he  played  it. 

"Anyway  the  time  passed  somehow 
until  one  day  in  February,  when  the 
other  man  came  in  with  a  dog  team 
and  old  Jerome,  the  trapper  from 
Chipewyan,  as  guide. 

"I  could  see  then  that  Travers  had 
sort  of  expected  him  all  the  time,  and, 
for  a  wonder,  he  was  medium  sober, 
for  the  hootch  was  giving  out  about 
then. 

"He  and  the  other  man  went  out 
behind  the  fort,  an'  the  newcomer 
had  nothing  common  to  the  north  any 
more  than  had  Travers;  you  could 
see  it  by  the  way  he  used  his  snow- 
shoes.  Old  Zenoni  was  away  on  one 
of  his  wanderin'  fits,  and  I  sat  b}*  the 
stove  and  smoked  while  Jerome  top- 
pled into  a  bunk  and  went  to  sleep  like 
a  dog.  The  factor  didn't  count  in  a 
social  sense.  By'n'by  the  two  men 
came  back,  and  Travers  asked  me  in 
his  polite  way  if  I'd  put  on  my  parka 
and  come  along  to  see  fair  play  in  a 
fight  between  him  and  the  other  man. 
"Of  course  I  thought  he  meant 
fists,  and  I  started  joshin'  him  about 
their  boxing  gloves,  for  it  was  thirty 
below,  and  getting  colder.  It  was 
nearly   three  o'clock.     Up  there  it  is 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


283 


dark  by  four,  in  the  winter.  First 
Travers  wrote  something  on  a  piece 
of  paper  and  put  it  in  an  envelope.  I 
remember  his  big  hands  trembling  as 
he  raised  the  envelope  to  lick  it — not 
so  much  the  cold  as  the  rum,  I  guess  ! 
,  "Anyhow  we  left  the  factor  drooling 
and  gibbering  over  a  pannikin  o'  hot 
rum,  and  went  out.  We  headed 
across  the  barrens  towards  the  woods 
to  the  west.  Right  there,  by  the  edge 
of  the  woods,  was  a  moose-pit,  where 
the  moose  had  stamped  down  the  snow 
in  a  hollow  till  it  was  hard  as  a  rock — 
an  ideal  place  for  a  scrap. 

"Then  it  was  that  they  told  me 
that  they  were  to  fight  with  knives, 
like  Dagos;  and  I  guess  I  must  have 
been  sort  of  loony  with  the  lonesome- 
ness  for  I  never  even  tried  to  tell  them 
they  was  fools.  The  picnic  com- 
menced by  Travers  giving  me  a 
revolver,  telling  me  to  wait  on  the 
edge  of  the  moose-pit  and  to  shoot 
either  of  them  that  played  dirty  in  the 
scrap. 

"They  took  off  their  snow  shoes  and 
stood  up  in  their  moccasins,  fine  big 
men  both  of  them.  The  stranger  took 
out  two  mean  looking  knives,  for  he'd 
never  have  had  a  chance  in  a  gun 
fight;  his  eyes  were  all  bleared  and 
black  with  frost  bite  an'  snow  blind- 
ness. 

"They  tied  the  knives  to  their  mit- 
tened  hands  with  strips  of  rawhide. 
I  couldn't  understand  why  at  the 
time,  but  last  year  Scotty,  at  the 
Landing,  told  me  that  the  Mexicans 
fight  that  way,  so  that  if  the  tendon 
is  slashed  you  don't  drop  the  knife. 

"Round  they  went,  guarding,  feint- 
ing and  meeting  the  cuts  on  their  left 
forearm,  and  the  footing  was  none 
too  good  only  the  moccasins  held  well 
on  the  packed  snow.  Once  Travers 
cut  hard,  slipped  and  fell,  and  the 
other  man  jumped  in,  but  I  yelled 
and  pulled  out  the  gun  from  inside 
my  parka  so  he  stood  back  and  let 
the  big  man  get  up. 

"They'd  grapple  an'  clinch,  grabbing 
at  one  another's  knife  hand,  then 
stand  off  for  a  minute,  for  all  the  world 
like  a  pair  of  bull  moose  fighting.  Then 
they'd  go  at  it  again,  circling  and 
striking,  closing  in  and  jumping  back, 
and  all  the  while  me  standing  like  the 
umpire  at  a  ball  game.  Gee  !  but  it 
was  the  craziest  fight  you  ever  saw,  Jim. 
"The  dark  had  dropped  down  like  a 
curtain,  and  I  was  wondering  when 
they'd  quit  when  I  heard  voices  com- 
ing across  the  barren  towards  the 
woods,  and  the  shrill  yelp  of  huskies. 
"Travers,  in  dodging,  got  a  ripping 
cut  in  the  thick  of  his  knife  arm,  and 
they  went  at  it  quieter  and  more  mad- 
like  than  ever.  That  was  the  queer- 
est scrap  I  ever  saw;  me  on  the  edge 
of  the  moose-pit,  the  two  swaying, 
striking  men  in  the  half  darkness,  and 


KEEPCOa 


beyond  them  the  gloom  of  the  pines 
standing  out  in  the  deathly  cold. 
The  voices  came  nearer,  but  the 
fighters  never  noticed;  guess  you  can't 
think  on  two  things  at  once  when 
you're  fighting  like  they  were. 

"All  at  once  Travers  over-reached 
in  a  swinging  stab,  half  slipped  and 
the  stranger  rushed  in,  .had  liim  by 
the  wrist  and  drove  down  hiird  over 
his  left  shoulder.     The  full  weight  of 


him  was  behind  the  stab,  and,  big  as 
Travers  was,  he  staggered  back,  drop- 
ped on  his  knees  and  then  got  up  and 
swayed  forwards  at  the  other  fellow. 
But  his  knees  sagged  as  he  bent  over 
like  a  tree  and  rolled  over  on  his  face 
on  the  floor  of  the  moose-pit. 

"Then  it  was  that  I  noticed  the 
woman  in  the  gloom  on  the  other  side 
of  the  hollow,  all  dressed  in  furs,  with 
a  short  skirt  an'  snowshocs. 


284 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


r 


=^ 


V 


THE    COST    of    any    one    of   the 
twenty-five   special    purpose  Un- 
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These  machines  are  designed  to  reduce  office  expense, 
save  time  and  effort,  expedite  business— and  they  do  it. 

prOR  example,  we  know  of  a  case  where  one 
^  special  Underwood  effects  a  yearly  saving  of 
over  $2,000. 

The  cost  of  the  machine  was  less  than  $200,  and  no 
charge  was  made  for  devising  the  system  which  made 
the  saving  possible.     That  service  goes  with  the  machine. 

THERE  are  few  instances  where  a  special  pur- 
pose Underwood  and  its  associated  system 
installed  by  us.  will  not  save  the  cost  in  a  few 
months. 

Write   us   if   you   are  interested   in    doing 
ail  your    accounting  work    with  machines. 

United  Typewriter    Co. 

LIMITED 

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and  all  other  Canadian  Cities. 


-J' 


How  Do  You  Know  That  You^Are 

Getting  All  the  Time  for  Which 

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Any  system  of  recording  the 
arrival  and  departure  of  employees 
that  is  dependent  for  its  success 
upon  the  honesty  and  energy  of  a 
clerk  is  liable  to  go  wrong.  Every 
time  keeper  has  his  friends,  his  prejudices, 
and  his  weaknesses.  He  is  only  human  ! 
The  Dey  Dial  Time  Recorder  (illustrated 
Tiere)  is  adjusted  and  regulated  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  absolute  accuracy.  It 
cannot  go  wrong  unless  tampered  with, 
and  a  simple  movement  of  the  pointer 
records  the  actual  time  of  arrival  and 
departure  of  each  employee,  "lates"  being 
automatically  shown  in  different  colored 
ink. 

The  Dey  is  made  in  many  different 
sizes  and  styles.  We  have  a  |Dey  clock 
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logue I  has  many  valuable  pointers  for 
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"She  saw  Travers  go  down,  and  her 
voice  shrieked  out  'Harry  !  Harry  !'— 
then  she  was  down  and  across  to  him 
as  he  lay  there  like  a  hamstrung 
coyote. 

"The  other  man  saw  her,  stiffened 
up,  and  walked  across  out  of  the  hollow 
to  where  Zenoni  stood  by  an  Indian 
and  a  dog  team  by  which  she'd  come 
to  the  fort. 

"Gee,  I  can  see  it  all  yet,  unreal  like 
a  lake  shore  through  mist,  the  woman 
kneeling  beside  Travers,  nussin*  his 
head  on  her  knees,  crying  and  crooning 
pitiful  kind-like  an  Indian  squaw  over 
a  dead  kid.  And  to  make  the  whole 
thing  more  unreal,  that  crazed  Dago 
sits  down  on  the  edge  of  the  sleigh 
and  fishes  out  his  flute,  playin'  that 
weird  tune  o'  his  until  his  fingers 
stiffened. 

"Then  I  came  back  to  life  and  ran 
down  to  Travers,  for  he  was  my  boss 
in  a  way,  and  though  he  looked  mighty 
sick  I  reckoned  he  wasn't  all  in  just  then. 

"We  got  him  on  the  sleigh  and  back 
to  the  Fort — and  then  the  balance  o' 
the  booze  came  in  handy  for  him. 
The  woman  met  the  other  man  just 
beyond  the  fort,  and,  Lord,  the  names 
she  called  him  !  He  and  old  Jerome 
hitched  up  and  pulled  out  to  the  old 
log  hut  that  stood  across  on  the  other 
side  of  the  bay.  That  was  the  last  J 
saw  of  him,  for  next  day  they  went 
away  west,  headed  for  Fort  Norman, 
I  guess. 

"The  woman  and  I  pulled  Travers 
back  to  life,  for  he'd  plenty  strength 
to  make  out  on,  but  what  she  was  to 
him  I  could  never  figure.  They  were 
mighty  careful  in  anything  they  said 
in  front  of  any  of  us.  When  he  got 
well  enough  to  travel  Travers  bought 
a  dog  team  from  a  gang  of  Stonies  th^t 
came  along  and  we  headed  for  Fort 
Norman.  There  she  stayed  with  the 
factor's  wife  until  the  river  opened, 
when  they  went  south. 

"I'd  reckoned  never  to  see  any  of 
them  again,  Jim,  but  you  remember 
last  spring  when  I  came  down  to 
Edmonton  to  meet  you  before  we  went 
out  to  the  Peace  country  ?  Well  I 
saw  her  there,  sitting  in  one  of  them 
there  automobiles,  all  dressed  up  in 
the  gladdest  rags  you  ever  saw.  She 
was  sittin'  waiting  outside  a  big  store, 
and  a  man  came  hurrying  out  and  got 
in  beside  her. 

I  stood  back — she'd  never  have 
known  me  for  my  whiskers  was  trim- 
med— and  I  had  a  good  pike  at  them 
both.  And,  say,  the  fellow  she  was 
with  was  neither  Travers  nor  the  other 
man,  but  a  little  flour-faced  son-of-a- 
gun  that  couldn't  have  toted  a  pack 
in  fifty  years. 

"That  was  what  made  me  think  on 
the  story,  you  talkin'  about  the  faces 
on  the  street. 

"What  was  she  ?     I  often  wonder- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


ed;  that  she'd  dog  team  up  to  that 
God  forgotten  place  for  a  man's  sake, 
nuss  him  back  to  life  and  take  him 
back  to  the  outside — and  then  have 
another  fellow  along  with  her  on  the 
seat  of  a  gas  wagon  !  Coyotes  is 
mean  critters — listen  to  that  fellow 
yellin'  now — but,  durn  me,  I  think 
they're  easier  to  understand  than  some 
o'  the  things  that  a  woman'U  do." 


That  Promise  to  Pa 

Continued  from  page  262 

Amelia  believed  that  It  had  spoken  her 
name. 

"What— what— is  it,  Pa  ?"  she 
questioned  in  a  gasping  whisper. 

"It — it — was — was  me,  Amely." 

"Crack  !     Cra— ck  !" 

At  the  head  of  the  bed,  the  side,  the 
head  again,  "Crack  !  Cra — ck  I" 
relentlessly  fell  the  raps,  fell  till  the 
very  marrow  froze  within  the  two 
trembling  women. 

Amelia  moved  closer  to  her  mother. 

"It's  Pa,"  she  whispered.  She  raised 
her  voice,  "It — is  it  you.  Pa  ?" 

"Crack  !  Cra — ch  !"  came  the 
answer  against  the  head  board,  each 
rap  falling  like  the  crack  of  a  thousand 
whips. 

"Ma  !" 

"Amely  !" 

Gasping  in  terror,  their  hearts  almost 
bursting  from  their  trembling  bodies, 
they  huddled  together  for  what  seemed 
to  be  hours,  while  the  raps  fell  thick 
and  fast,  hurling  themselves  with 
fierce  impact  against  the  bed. 

Mortal  flesh  has  its  limit  of  endur- 
ance. In  the  first  lull  Mrs.  Elliot  sat 
bolt  upright,  put  her  shaky  hands  over 
her  night-capped  ears. 

"I  promise,"  she  said  hoarsely. 
"Amely  shall  go  to  college — next  fall 
— this  very  comin'  September.  I 
promise,  Hiram." 

But  It  was  not  appeased.  Again — 
again — again  came  the  terrific  raps. 

"Perhaps — perhaps — it  may  be — 
God,  Ma.  You — you  broke  your 
promise  to  Pa  once." 

Mrs.  Elliot's  almost  palsied  tongue 
gave  stjlemn  utterance: 

"I  promise  You,  God.  Amely  shall 
go  to  college — next  fall — an'  stay  four 
years." 

They  waited,  scarce  breathing. 

Silence  followed. 

Shaking  as  if  with  ague  Mrs.  Elliot 
climbed  out  of  bed  and  turned  the 
drafts  on  the  stove.  Then  she  lit  the 
lamp,  wrapped  herself  in  a  comforter 
and  seated  herself  in  the  high  rocker. 
Amelia  crept  out  after  her.  Soon  the 
stove  was  red  hot,  its  heat  and  cheerful 
glow  thawing  out  the  congealed  blood 
in  their  veins. 

They  sat  for  two  hours  beTore  the 


285 

The  Secret  of  Beauty 

is  a  clear  velvety  skin  and  a  youthful  complexion. 
If  you  value  your  good  looks  and  desire  a 
perfect  complexion,  you  must  use  Beetham'* 
La-rola.  It  possesses  unequalled  qualities  for 
imparling  a  youthful  appearance  lo  the  skin 
and  complexion  of  its  users.  La-rola  is  delicate 
and  fragrant,  quite  greaseless,  and  is  very 
pleasant  to  use.  Get  a  bottle  to-day,  and  thus 
ensure   a  pleasing   and  attractive  complexion. 


You'll  Need  One 
On  Your  Vacation 

^  To  keep  you  comfortable  in  the  cool  morning 
air  or  in  the  chill  of  the  evening — when  at  golf — 
tennis — boating — fishing — in  fact  there  is  hardly 
any  time  when  you  don't  need  a 


"CEETEE" 


ShaJcer-Knit 

Sweater  Coat 

Made  of  soft  Australian  Merino  wool  they  combine  a  warmth  and 

dressiness  which  cannot  be  equalled. 

Sleeves  and  pockets  are  knit  to  the  body  of  the  coat  and  will,  not  pull 

away  as  in  the  case  with  cheap  sweater  coats.     A  high  collar  is  added 

for  extra  comfort,  which  may  be  worn  cither  up  or  down. 

A  "Ceetee"    Sweater  Coat  will   be   your   most  welcome    travelUog 

companion. 

Get  one  to-day  from  your  dealer  or  from  us  direct. 

The  C.  Turnbull  Co.  of  Gait,  Ltd.,  "^arr".  JAV^r^o"' 

AUo  mam^acturen   of  "C**tf4"   U mUrdothing.   TurnbulT t  ribbed  unduwtar  for  Ladies   and 
Children,    and  TurnbuWs  "M"   Hands  for  lrQ<mU. 


I 


fire,  talking  in  hushed  voices. f  Amelia's 
four  years  of  college  life  were  mapped 
out;  her  wardrobe,  her  studies,  her 
manner  of  living  discussed.  Mrs. 
Elliot  led  the  conversation,  keeping 
carefully  away  from  any  reference  as 
to  what  had  caused  her  change  of  front. 
Amelia  knew  that  her  mother  would 
never  acknowledge,  even  to  her,  that 
she  had  been  forced  lo  accede  to  her 
wishes. 

The  drafts  of  the  stove  were  kept 
open  when  they  again  climbe<I  into  bed. 
Amelia    knelt    reverently    this    time, 


praying  with  all  the  fervor  of  one  whose 
long-deferred  and  seemingly  hopeless 
wish   has  been   miraculously   fulfilled. 

They  slept  later  than  usual.  There 
was  a  subdued  look  in  Mrs.  Elliot's 
eyes  as  she  got  breakfast.  It  was  a 
night  not  to  be  lightly  forgotten  ;  no 
tragedy  of  their  lives,  either  before  or 
after,  ever  equallH  that  particular 
night  of  horror. 

After  their  hou.se  work  was  done  up 
for  the  morning,  they  went  across  the 
street  to  Mrs.  Elliot's  father's.  The 
old  folks  listened  in  astonishment  to 


286 


Independent 

IROUND™E 

WORLD 
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THE  ideal  way  in  which  to  make  "the  grand 
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tlon  an  to  checking  facilitk^s.  M-eights,  etc..  in  foreign  conntrica— 
gives  tfthles  of  money  values— distal ices  from  New  York— tells  when, 
who  ancl  how  much,  t<t  "  tip."  In  fact  this  booklet  will  be  found  in- 
valuable to  all  who  travel  or  are  cont«mplatii»g  Uking  a  trip  in  this 
country  or  abroid. 

Published  by  the  proprietors  of  the  fanioua  Mothersill's  Seasick 
Remedy  an  a  practical  handbook  for  traveU-r^. 

Thii  edition  is  limited  so  we  suggest  that  you  send  your  name  and 
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address  our  Uetroit  oflice  fur  this  b<»oklet 

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Brandies  in  Montreal,  New  York'  Paris.    Milan  and 
Hamburg.   - 


Mark  your  linen  with 


Tfdven 
7la/me6 


TRAOE    MAR! 


REQUIRED  BY  SCHOOLS  AND  COLLEGES 

Any  name  in  fast  color  thread  can  be  woven 
into  fine  white  cambric  tape.  $2.00  for  12  doz. 
$1.25  for  6  doz..  85c.  for  3  doz.,  duty  paid.  These  mark- 
ings more  than  save  their  cost  by  preventing  laundry 
losses.  Orders  filled  in  a  week  through  your  dealer, 
or  write  for  samples,  order  blanks,  and  catalogue  of 
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J.  &  J.  CASH,  Ltd. 

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or  304  Chestnut  St.,  So.  Norwalk,  Conn.,  U.  S.  A. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

Mrs.  Elliot's  announcement  that 
Amelia  was  to  go  to  college  the  follow- 
ing September. 

The  old  lady  stared  at  her  daughter 
and  her  grand-daughter,  scarce  believ- 
ing. 

"Well,  I  do  declare  !  Amely  really 
goin'  to  college  !  An'  you  said  only 
yesterday,  Marthy,  that  you  never 
would  let  her.  It  seems  mighty  foolish 
to  me.  An'  you  alius  said  you  didn't 
promise  Hiram." 

"So  1  So  !"  ejaculated  the  old  man. 
"Little  Amely's  gettin'  her  way  after 
all.    What's  come  over  you  , Marthy  ?" 

Mrs.  Elliot  reddened  uncomfortably. 

"Our  pump's  froze  solid,"  she  said 
hastily.  "It's  the  first  it's  done  that 
since  we  had  it  put  in  the  kitchen." 

"  'Tain't  surprisin'.  My  !  but  wa'n't 
it  cold  last  night.  'Twas  the  first  time 
in  fifty  year  I  heard  the  house  craclc. 
Jest  as  soon  as  the  fire  died  down  the 
cracks  begun,  and  kept  up  till  the  house 
cooled  off.  It's  a  powerful  cold  spell 
when  the  boards  bang  like  shots  pourin' 
out  a  cannon." 

Amelia's  eyes,  wide-open,  startled, 
despairing,  met  her  mother's.  The 
girl's  heart  stood  still.  Mrs.  Elliot's 
look  of  relief,  elation,  triumph,  told 
her  the  truth  before  the  words  came. 

"Don't  say  anything  'bout  Amely's 
goin'  to  college.  Somethin'  might 
happen,  an'  'tain't  alius  pleasant  ex- 
plaining afterwards," 

When  they  reached  the  house  Amelia 
turned  upon  her. 

"You  promised,"  she  cried  sternly. 
"You  promised." 

"It  wasn't  your  Pa,"  replied  Mrs. 
Elliot  calmly,  but  her  eyes  did  not 
meet  Amelia's. 

"But  it  -was  God,"  said  the  girl 
solemnly,  "and  you  promised  God." 

Mrs.  Elliot  went  into  the  next  room. 
Amelia  fell  stiffly  to  a  chair  and  dropped 
her  head  to  her  hands.  Mrs.  Elliot's 
step  sounded  beside  her  again. 

"No  matter  what  it  was  or  wasn't,  I 
guess  I  promised  that  you  could  go  to 
college,  Amely.  I  don't  approve  of  it, 
an'  I  never  did  an'  never  will,  but  I 
ain't  never  broke  a  promise  yet  when 
I  did  promise,  an'  I  won't  begin  now." 


On  Account  of 
Joe  'Hooligan's  Jug 

Continued  from  page  252. 

dangled  to  the  floor.  As  the  tinker 
knelt  staring,  fascinated,  at  the  motion- 
less apparition,  there  grew  out  of  and 
above  the  creaking  and  trembling  of 
the  timbers  the  g-r-ind,  g-r-ind  of  huge 
millstones  and  the  hoarse,  sullen 
ker-runk,  ker-runk  of  the  ponderous 
wheel. 

"What's  that  ?"     Bill  gasped.     "It 


Floors— Walls 
—Ceilings— 

Every  part  of  the  house  can 

be  dry-dusted  and  kept  perfectly 
clean  if  you  use 

(       ORYCmi©  DUSTLE5S 

^ops  and  Dusters 

No  oil  to  smear  or  stain — nc  oil  to 
leave  greasy  markson  rugs  and  fur- 
nishings— no  oil  to  buy.  Here  are 
three  of  the  most  popular  styles  of 
Tarbox  C/iemtca/7y  Treated  No-Oil 
Dry-Dusting  Mops  and  Dusters: — 

TARBOX 
Triangular 
Dry- 
Dusting 
Mop 

Good    for 

getting  into 
corners  and  awkward  places.  The 
top  is  padded  so  that  it  cannot 
mar  furniture.  .         .         $1.25 

TARBOX 

Circular 

Dry-Dusting 

Rather  small-    -,    ■'./■    i    ^ ;'.i    'vJV.^ 

er  tha"  *^'* '•^-  *■'    '''■*  *•  *  '■>,  I  •■'  ^;?i?', 

angul 

Particularly 

well  adapted  for  dusting  walls  and 

under  furniture.  Also  padded.  $1.00 

TARBOX 

Dustless 

Floor 

Polisher 

Covers  a  large 

"»»■:«»■  surface  and  is 

good  for  halls 

and  large  floor  spaces  as  well  as 

for  general  purposes.    Ends  rjbber 

tippped  to  prevent  marring.    $1.50 

The  chemical  action  of  Tarbox 
Mops  lasts  as  long  as  the  fabric. 
Washing  renews  their  efficiency. 

At  Department,  General  and 
Hardware  Stores.  From  25c  up 
to  $2.00.     Ask  your  Dealer. 

TARBOX  BROS. 

Rear  274  Dundas  St. 

TORONTO  8 


thanthetri-(';i/;'/,r,  i'l^jl;^';;^ 

igular   mop.     <''vlf ''M  ■>■' 
irticularly  ''Lj/ji ->i  ' 

1  adapted  f 

lerfurnitur 


sounds  like  a  mill-wheel.  Oh,  millia 
murdher !  I  must  be  in  Chartre's 
Mill  !" 

At  the  sound  of  a  human  voice,  the 
phantom  miller,  as  if  imploring,  slowly 
raised  its  leaden  hands  to  the  noose  on 
its  neck.  That  gesture  froze  the  heart  of 
the  tinker.  He  would  have  fainted 
from  sheer  fright,  but  at  that  moment 
every  sense  of  the  man  was  electrified 
once  more  into  quivering  alertness  by  a 
blaze  of  dazzling  green  light  that  swept 
through  the  mill,  revealing  each  yawn- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


287 


ing  crack  and  moldering  strain  of  the 
old  walls.  It  lasted  but  the  fraction 
of  a  second ;  then  followed  immediately 
the  blinding  darkness.  But  the  spectre 
had  vanished  with  the  blaze  of  light, 
and  the  mill  was  once  more  in  its  old 
deathlike  silence. 

As  Bill  knelt  in  the  dark  comer, 
anxiously  measuring  with  his  eyes  the 
distance  to  the  stair,  every  hair  on  his 
head  stiffened,  for  up  through  the 
black  opening  in  the  floor  there 
quivered  a  heavy,  tired  sigh.  No  need 
to  tell  the  tinker  what  was  on  the  stairs. 

"It's  the  peddler,"  gasped  the  un- 
fortunate, covering  his  face  with  his 
hands. 

At  last  he  ventured  to  look.  There, 
sure  enough,  crouching  on  the  floor  in 
the  patch  of  moonlight  about  twenty 
feet  away,  was  a  little,  dark-faced, 
frightened-looking  man,  with  an  open 
pack  of  peddler's  wares  spread  out 
before  him.  The  spectre  acted  as 
though  in  great  fear  of  pursuit,  for,  as 
it  took  a  leather  pouch  out  of  its  bosom, 
it  kept  turning  apprehensive  eyes  over 
its  shoulders  to  the  dark  stairway. 
Then  the  phantom  seemed  to  listen 
intently  for  a  moment,  and  Bill  saw  it 
lean  forward  and  hide  the  pouch  in  a 
crevice  between  a  great  oaken  beam 
and  the  wall. 

At  the  sight  of  the  purse  Bill's 
interest  in  life  returned.  He  feebly 
opened  a  pair  of  covetous  eyes,  and  sat 
bolt  upright. 

"If  I  live  through  the  terrible  murd- 
herin'  I'm  gettin'  this  night,"  he 
muttered,  with  chattering  teeth, "that 
pouch'll  belong  to  me  the  morrow." 

At  the  thought  of  the  greatness  of 
the  treasure  a  surge  of  strength  return- 
ed to  his  limbs. 

"I  must  get  out  of  here,  though, 
before  thim  two  sojers  come  up. 
They'll  be  here  in  a  minute,  and  I'd 
hate  turrjble  to  meet  thim  on  the 
stairs." 

So  saying,  he  started  to  crawl 
cautiously  across  the  room.  But  he 
was  not  to  escape  so  easily.  The 
unlucky  man  got  no  farther  than  the 
patch  of  moonlight,  when  he  paused 
transfixed  at  the  baleful  thing  which 
glared  at  him  from  the  stair-opening. 
Just  above  the  floor,  not  ten  feet  distant 
peered  two  glittering,  sinister  eyes, 
surmounted  by  a  soldier's  tall  cap. 
The  tinker  scuttled  back,  sideways  like 
a  crab,  into  the  deepest  shadow. 

"Oh,  what'Il  I  do  at  all,  at  all  !"  he 
whisjiered.  "I  can't  get  out  now,  an' 
the  i>eddler's  goin'  to  be  murdhered 
before  me  two  very  eyes;  an'  if  I  wait 
to  see  it,  it's  dead  and  spacheless  I'll  be 
walking  home  to  Ballinderg  in  the 
morning." 

While  Bill  was  speaking,  the  spectre 
soldier  had  risen  into  full  view  and  was 
beckoning  covertly  to  some  one  below. 
Instantly  another  soldier  flashed  into 


You  May  Pay  $100  Too  Much 

For  Your  Piano 

It  is  almost  a  certainty  that  you  will,  unless  you 
first  investigate  the  truth  of  our  claims  that  we  sell 
the  Sherlock-Manning  SOth  Century  Piano  for  SlOO 

less  than  other  high-grade  instruments,  that  it  is  one 
of  the  world's  best  pianos  and  is  altogether 

"Canada's  Biggest  Piano  Valne" 

Why  do  we — and  those  who  have  bought — call  the 
Suerlook-Manniiig  "Canada's  Biggest  Piano  Value?" 
Because,  while  unsurpassed  in  a  single  detail  by  any 
other  high-grade  piano  made,  it  is  sold  for  one 
hundred  dollars  less.  We  use  the  Otto  Iligel  Double 
Repeating  Action,  Poehlmann  Wire  Strings,  posi- 
tively the  finest  imported,  and  the  famous  Weickert 
Guaranteed  felt  Hammers.  These  standard  quality 
parts  are  used  only  in  the  high-grade  pianos.     The 

Sherlock-Manning 
20th  Century  Piano 

Louis  XV.— Style  105. 
will  be  found  in  the  homes  of  the  wealthiest,  as  well  as  in  the  most  critical  and  exclusive  musical  institu* 
tions.  Every  Piano  shipped  under  a  ten-year  guarantee.  We  have  handsome  illustrated  art  catalogue 
for  you.  It  tells  all  about  the  construction  of  the  Sherlock-Manning  Piano  and  showst  he  various  designs. 
If  this  Iwok  does  nothing  else,  it  will  prove  to  you  beyond  a  doubt,  that  for  external  beauty  and  genuine 
intrinsic  excellence,  the  Sherlock-Manning  is  second  to  none.  Write  to-day  for  catalogue  D,  addressing 
Dept.  11. 

THE  SHERLOCK-MANNING  PIANO  CONPANY, 

London  (No  Street  Address  Necessarv)  Canada. 

51 


SELLS  LIMITED 

SHAUGHNCSSY  BUILDING, 


MONTREAL 


Ladies  Visiting  New  York 

The  management  of  this  hotel  has  made  a  special  fe.iture  of  safeguarding  the  interests 
of  Canadian  lady  patrons.  In  addition  to  comfortable  rooms  and  delightful  meals  at  the 
most  moderate  prices,  the  hotel  provides  intellectual,  refinei  chaperones  of  good  family  to 
accompany  ladies  on  shopping,  the.itre  and  other  excursions,  free  of  charge.     The 

HOTEL  MARTINIQUE 

BROADWAY  AND  32ND  STREET 

CHARLES  LEIGH  TAYLOR,  President  WALTER  S.  GILSON,  Vice-President 

WALTER  CHANDLER,  JR.,  Manager 

is  in  the  centre  of  the  theatre  and  fashionable  shopping;  ^district,  close  to  everything  of 
interest  to  the  Canadian  visitor.  It  caters  especially  to  Canadian  patrons  and  the  general 
manager  gives  his  personal  attention  to  their  various  needs  and  accommodation.  Pleasant 
room  and  bath,  $2.60  per  day.  Table  d'hote  dinner  in  the  Louis  XV,  room,  $1.60.  Club 
breakfast,  60c.         Literature  and  reservations  from  our  Canadian  advertising  agents. 


HOTEL  GRISWOLD 

POSTAL  HOTKL  COMPANY,  Proprietors 

Griswold  Street  and  Grand  River  Aye. 
EUROPEAN  PLAN 

Rates  -  $1.50  per  day  and  up. 

DETROIT      -      MICH. 


FRED  POSTAL, 


CUAS.  L.  POSTAL, 


288 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


ATLANTIC 
ROYALS 


From  BRISTOL. 


NEXT  SAILINGS 
From  MONTREAL  and  QUEBEC 

Steamer. 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  Aug.  26,  1914 

ROYAL  GEORGE    Wed.,  Sept.   9,     " 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  Sept.  23,     " 

ROYAL  GEORGE  Wed.,  Oct.     7,     " 

ROYAL  EDWARD Wed.,  Oct.   21,     " 


Tues.,  Aug.  11, 
Tues.,  Aug.  25, 
Tues,,  Sept.  8, 
Tues..  Sept.  22, 
Tues.,  Oct.     6, 


Before  Booking  by  another  Line 

GET  AT  THESE  FACTS- 
SAFETY  ?         ACCOMMODATION  ? 
SERVICE?        CUISINE? 

Our  Representative  will  be  glad  to  discuss  them 
personally  or  by  letter  addressed  to 

52  King  Street,  East,  Toronto,  Ont. 

593  Main  Street,  Winnipeg,  Man. 

228  St.  James  Street,  Montreal,  Que. 

123  Hollis  Street,  Halifax,  N.  S. 

CANADIAN  NORTHERN  STEAMSHIPS,  Limited 


the  room,  standing  beside  the  first. 
For  a  moment  the  pair  hesitated,  and 
then  went  crouching  and  gliding  like 
two  monstrous  cats  across  the  floor 
to  their  unconscious  victim. 

Bill  braced  himself,  body  and  soul, 
for  the  ordeal ;  but  when  the  first 
soldier  drew  his  bayonet  from  its 
scabbard  and  lifted  the  glittering  steel 
high  above  the  peddler's  stooping  shoul- 
ders, flesh  and  blood  could  endure  no 
more.  Without  waiting  for  the  de- 
scending blade  to  strike,  the  tinker  let 
a  shriek  out  of  his  stiff  lips  that  split 
the  stillness  of  the  summer  night  and 
sped  quivering  along  the  startled 
valley.  Instantly  the  dry,  mirthless 
laugh  which  had  greeted  his  entrance 
.  to  the  mill  echoed  from  the  room  below. 

In  two  great  leaps.  Bill  was  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs;  two  others  landed 
him  at  the  foot.  But,  quick  as  he  was, 
when  he  reached  the  bottom,  the 
gho.stly  murderers  were  already  there, 
waiting  for  him. 

Then  followed  a  heroic  action,  the 
dramatic  recital  of  which  earns  for 
Bill,  to  this  day,  a  hot  supper  and  a 
comfortable  bed  in  whatsoever  house 
he  cares  to  honor  by  his  presence. 
Without  stopping  to  think  of  the  con- 
sequence, and  governed  by  natural 
impulse  only,  the  desperate  man  lunged 
a  savage  blow,  first  to  the  right,  then 
to  the  left,  at  his  shadowy  adversaries. 
As  might  have  been  foreseen,  his  fists 
encountered  no  resistance. 

His  long  arms  waving  around  and 
around  like  flails,  the  tinker  dashed 
wildly  for  the  door;  and  then  were 
proven  true  beyond  all  doubt  the 
reports  the  country-side  had  often 
heard  of  the  vengeful  fur>'  of  the  ghosts 
of  the  old  mill.  As  the  tinker  poised 
for  a  last  wild  jump  from  the  threshold 
to  the  ground,  a  bayonet  was  thrust 
right  through  his  back  between  the 
shoulder  blades,  and  Bill  saw  the 
gleaming  point  sticking  out  through  his 
very  breastbone.  However,  as  it  was 
a  ghostly  bayonet,  he  didn't  even  feel 
the  blade,  and  before  his  feet  touched 
the  ground  it  had  disappeared,  leaving 
no  mark  upon  his  back  or  upon  his 
chest. 

Without  heeding  the  distance  or  the 
direction,  and  hardly  touching  foot  to 
the  ground  as  he  went,  the  fugitive 
raced  the  wind  till  he  suddenly  found 
himself  back  again  at  the  very  entrance 
to  Michael  Callahan's  still.  When  he 
reached  the  big  tree  where  he  had  sat  a 
'few  hours  before,  the  breathless  man 
could  go  no  farther,  but,  collapsing  all 
at  once,  dropped  like  an  empty  potato- 
sack  to  the  ground,  and  lay  there 
unconscious. 

The  next  thing  the  hunted  tinker 
knew,  his  name,  coupled  with  many 
fierce  maledictions,  was  being  shouted 
from  somewhere  in  the  distance. 
Opening  his  eyes,  he  saw  that  the  sun 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


289 


c 

i 


STEEL 


ELECIRIC 
LIGHTED 


TRAINS 


WINNIPEG  TO 

ST.  PAUL 
MINNEAPOLIS 


TAKE 
THE 


f  ST.  PAUL 

I  MINNEAPOLIS 

(  CHICAGO 
j    MILWAUKEE 
I    DULUTH 
I  SUPERIOR 


EASY  WAY  SOUTH 

^oVf^oP  SAFETY  AND  COURTESY 

J.  C.  PETERSON.  General  Agent,  h.  P.  WENTE,  District  Pa»enger  Agent 

J.  B.  DOUGHERTT,  Travelling  Agent,  M2  Bianatyae  Ave.,  WmiflPEG  MAlf 

PHOIfB,  GERRY  728 
W.  R  SHELDON  D.P.  and  P.A..  205  Eighth  Ava..  Wwt.  Clwrr.  AlU.;    J    H    MITRTAnQH 
Tr.T.  Ft.  and  Pa«.  Kgt.,  Ajoacy  Bldg..  Edmooton.  Alt..;   H.  T.  Suhr,  f.A..  Me^ose  J.w,  SmI' 


■■t:MlL«&f*g«]r!?.!^|^«/j.lJVfdfJiB,x''J>l^!H^ 


290 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A  Thoroughly  Universal  Vacation 
Territory 

Highlands  of  Ontario 

Including  Muskoka  Lakes,  Lake  of  Bay«,  Algonquin  Provincial 
Park,  Temagami,  Georgian  Bay,  Etc. 


ST^ 


Nominigan   Camp — Algonquin    Park 


A  Vista  in   Muskoka   Lake    District 

Spend  Your  Summer  Holidays 

In  One  of  These  Delightful 

Territories 

Reached  in  Palatial  Trains  over  the 
GRAND  TRUNK  RAIL  WAY  SYS  TEM 

Ideal  Canoe  Trips 

Good    Hotel    Accommodation 

Splendid  Fishing 

Finest  Summer  playgrounds  in  America.  The 
lover  of  outdoors  will  find  here  in  abundance  all  things 
which  make  roughing  it  desirable.  Select  the  locality 
that  will  afford  you  thp  greatest  amount  of  enjoyment, 
and  send  for  free  folders,  beautifully  illustrated,  desrib- 
ing  these  out-of-the-ordinary  resorts.  All  this  recrea- 
tion paradise  easy  of  access 

Address'fi.  E.  HORNING,  Union  Station,  Toronto,  J.  QUINLAN , 
IS  lb   SalmonTrout  Caught      Bonaventure  Station,  Montreal,  or  any  Agent  of  the  Companv- 
In  Lake  of   Bays 


G.  T.  BELL, 

Passenger  Traffic  Manager, 

MONTREAL 


H.  G.  ELLIOTT, 

General  Passenger  Agent, 

MONTREAL 


was  already  an  hour  high,  and  with  a 
shock  of  alarm,  who  should  Bill  see 
clambering  frantically  up  the  hill,  and 
shouting  and  wildly  gesticulating  as 
he  came,  but  savage-faced  little 
Michael  Callahan,  the  distiller. 

But  Bill  was  full  of  his  story,  and  it 
was  impossible  to  keep  one's  anger 
burning  on  top  of  the  overpowering 
wonder  of  such  news;  and  so  it  was  a 
refreshing  cup  of  inspiring  mountain 
dew  the  haunted  man  received  instead 
of  a  sore  taste  of  Michael's  knobby 
blackthorn  stick.  When  the  narrative 
was  ended,  the  awe-stricken  distiller 
said: 

"We'll  go  together.  Bill,  me  brave 
champeen,  you  and  me,  and  we'll  get 
that  peddler's  pouch  of  goold." 

And  that's  how  it  came  that  at  high 
noon,  when  the  whole  world  was  cheer- 
ful with  warblings  and  trillings  and 
twitterings,  our  two  friends  crept 
cautiously  over  the  quiet  threshold  of 
Chartre's  Mill,  and  tiptoed,  wide-eyed 
and  alert,  across  the  broken  floor. 
Step  by  step,  they  mounted  the  sagging 
steps,  and,  just  as  they  reached  the  top, 
they  both  declared  that  some  unseen 
thing  brushed  past  them  on  its  way 
down  the  stairs. 

Bill's  finger  trembled  as  he  pointed 
to  the  beam  by  the  window,  behind 
which  the  peddler  had  hidden  thepouch. 
At  the  same  time  Michael  tightened 
his  grip  on  the  tinker's  arm.  Then  the 
two,  their  hearts  in  their  mouths,  and 
silent  themselves  as  ghosts,  glided  oyer 
to  the  window.  They  were  bending 
down  within  arm's  reach  of  the  beam 
a  full  throbbing  minute  before  Bill 
found  courage  enough  to  lift  his  hand. 
Then,  slowly  and  painfully,  as  though 
he  were  putting  it  into  boiling  water, 
he  reached  forth  his  grimy  fist. 

Great  drops  of  cold  sweat  glistened 
on  the  anxious  brow  of  little  Michael 
Callahan.  The  groping  fingers  of  the 
tinker  almost  touched  the  beam,  when 
the  two  men  were  electrified  by  a  weird 
sound  in  the  room  below.  It  seemed 
to  the  petrified  listeners  like  a  harsh, 
mirthless,  cackling  laugh — the  very 
sound  Bill  had  heard  the  night  before, 
as  he  entered  the  mill. 

"Come  away.  Bill,"  whispered  the 
distiller  weakly;  "lave  it  to  thim.  I 
wouldn't  touch  a  farden  of  it.  The 
money'd  only  bring  us  bad  luck." 

Although  the  tinker's  teeth  chattered 
he  made  bold  answer:  "By  gar,  luck  or 
no  luck,  I'll  not  I'ave  it  to  thim.  I'll 
not  go  away  without  it."  He  thrust 
a  hand  desperately  behind  the  beam. 
Marv^elous  to  relate,  there  was  not  a 
sign  of  pouch  or  money. 

"It's  not  here,  Michael,"  Bill  shouted 
excitedly,  jumping  to  his  feet;  "they've 
taken  it  away." 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  words,  the 
strange  mocking  laugh  broke  out  again 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


291 


louder  than  ever,  and  ended  in  a  dry, 
sardonic  squawk. 

The  two  men  clutched  each  other  and 
clung  limply  together.  Again  came 
the  sound,  only  shriller  and  more 
indignant,  and  now  gro^vn  strangely 
familiar. 

"Cluck  !  Cluck  !  Cluck  aw  !" 

It  was  the  tinker  who  first  gained 
courage  enough  to  peer  cautiously 
down  through  a  hole  in  the  floor,  and 
then  the  eyes  almost  leaped  out  of  his 
head.  And  no  wonder  !  Over  in  a 
comer  of  the  room  near  the  great  wheel 
was  a  heap  of  brown  leaves  and  rub- 
bish, from  the  center  of  which  protrud- 
ed a  slim  black  neck  surmounted  by  a 
red  comb.  A  trim  little  head  was 
cocked  defiantly  to  one  side,  and  one 
round  yellow  eye  stared  unwinkingly 
up  at  Bill  through  the  hole  in  the  floor. 
A  yard  away,  in  another  heap  of  leaves, 
clucked  a  similar  apparition. 

"Hould  fast,  Mike  Callahan,"  Bill 
whispered,  trembling  with  excitement. 
"Be  the  bones  of  Pether  White,  I'm 
looking  at  the  shupernatural  ghosts  of 
Mrs.  Brady's  two  black  Spanish  bins  !" 

Michael  looked  long  and  searchingly 
into  the  yellow  eyes,  and  then  said, 
with  warm  conviction: 

"By  vartue  of  me  oath,  Wullum,  I 
doubt  whether  the  rapscallions  are 
ghosts  at  all,  at  all." 

A  moment  later  the  two  fortune- 
hunters  emerged  from  the  old  mill. 
Michael  Callahan  came  first,  carrying, 
gingerly,  two  hats  filled  with  white 
eggs;  Bothered  Bill  Donahue  followed 
stepping  high.  Under  each  arm  the 
tinker  firmly  held  a  flustered,  expostu- 
lating witness  to  his  innocence  of  the 
theft. 

In  the  gratifying  chorus  which  greet- 
ed Bill's  triumphant  entry  into  the 
village  we  are  sorry  to  chronicle  two 
discordant  notes:  Narrow-minded 
Peter  McCarthy  pretended  to  believe 
that  Bill  on  that  eventful  night  had 
met  with  nothing  worse  than  the  cackle 
of  Mrs.  Brady's  hens;  while  the 
plundered  Mrs.  Flannigan  maintained 
that  "the  only  spurrits  the  owdacious 
villian  saw  came  out  of  my  jug." 

As  for  Bill,  he  bore  no  malice  toward 
the  two  calumniators;  his  fame  was 
secure. 


Unbelievable  Girl 

Continucfl  from  pagi-  248. 
Stances.     I  wonder  whether  she's  had 
those  arms  around   any  other  man's 
neck  ?" 

He  was  sharply  roused  from  plea- 
sant reverie  by  a  terrified  call,  "Help, 
Frank  !"  faint  and  muflfled,  coming 
from  the  direction  of  the  camp,  and 
sweeping  the  canoe  frantically  round 
the  corner  where  he  had  gotten  his 
first  glimpse  of  her  he  saw  something 
which  struck  him  cold. 


i 

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"^^^^ 

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292  CANADA  MONTHLY 

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Convenient  trains  with  electric-lighted  sleeping  cars  from  Port 
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E»J 


The  girl — his  girl — even  at  that  dis- 
tance he  could  make  out  the  dear, 
golden  head, — was  struggling  in  the 
grasp  of  two  ruffians.  Another  stood 
to  one  side  with  a  rifle  in  his  hand. 

A  moment's  frantic  paddling  brought 
him  near  enough  to  appreciate  the 
situation.  Two  canoes,  one  a  light 
birch  bark,  the  other  a  large  Peter- 
borough, were  drawn  half  way  up  on 
the  landing. 

"It's  some  bad  Indians,"  he  thought, 
with  an  anxious  tug  at  his  heart,  and 
he  shot  the  canoe  along  like  a  racing 
motor  boat.  "Thank  God,  I  got  here 
when  I  did.  But  it  looks  as  if  I  had 
my  work  cut  out  for  me." 

He  heard  the  girl  cry  out  as  if  in 
exquisite  pain,  but  a  twist  in  the  hands 
of  her  captors  gave  her  a  sight  of  him 
and  brought  a  joyful  note. 

Then  the  Indians  discovered  him. 
The  struggle  stopped  for  a  moment 
but  after  a  word  of  parley  the  two 
again  attempted  to  force  her  toward 
the  canoe  while  the  third  ran  down  the 
shore  brandishing  the  rifle  as  a  sign 
to  keep  off. 

With  a  yell  Van  Ostrand  rushed 
the  canoe  on  regardless.  The  next 
momenta  bullet  pinged  its  way  through 
the  thin  cedar  sides  just  behind  him^ 
Another  spent  itself  in  the  cushion 
under  his  knees. 

"He'll  get  me  next,"  he  thought,  as 
a  stream  of  water  spurted  in  the  hole. 
Then  as  the  Indian's  eyes  came  up  for 
a  glance  as  to  the  result  of  the  shots 
the  paddler  gave  vent  to  a  terrible 
yell  which  had  even  a  tone  of  joy 
in  it. 

"Put  down  that  gun,  Big  Eye,"  he 
shouted.     "Don't  you  know  me  ?" 

The  words,  or  perhaps  rather  the 
voice,  had  an  instant  effect.  Almost 
as  if  struck  with  a  bullet  the  Indiaa 
dropped  the  gun,  ran  for  the  birch 
canoe  and  rapidly'  paddled  off. 

A  few  more  strokes  brought  Van 
Ostrand  to  the  landing  and  grabbing^ 
up  the  gun  he  rushed  toward  the 
struggling  group.  One  half-breed  had 
the  girl  in  his  arms  while  the  second 
was  attempting  to  bind  her  hands  with 
a  length  of  guy  rope  from  one  of  the 
tents.  She  was  struggling,  almost 
crazed  with  fear,  and  so  eft'ectually  as- 
to  prevent  the  immediate  accomplish- 
ment of  their  purpose.  The  second 
breed  turned  menacingly  as  the  new- 
comer approached  and  drew  a  knife. 
The  other  also  let  go  of  the  girl  and 
turned  to  face  him. 

Van  Ostrand  raised  the  gun.  "Get 
out  of  here,  you  brutes,"  he  growled,, 
"or  I'll  blow  you " 

"Not  so  fas',"  broke  in  the  second,  a. 
huge  fellow  with  a  long,  deep  scar 
across  one  cheek,  and  pointing  to  the- 
rifle,  "she's  emptee,  no  good.  Git  off 
yoursel'." 

Foiled    in    his    bluflf,    the    surveyor 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


293 


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294 


Next  Sundjg^ 

In  48  hours  your  corns 
will  be  gone  if  you  use 
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CANADA  MONTHLY 

menaced  them  with  the  gun  clubbed, 
but  the  big  fellow  laughed. 

"Eef  he  hit  me,  you  steek  heem, 
Sharlee,"  he  grunted.  "That  fix  him 
an'  we  git  girl." 

Van  Ostrand  was  surprised  at  their 
resistance  till  the  odor  of  whiskey  from 
their  breath  reached  him.  This  ac- 
counted for  their  unusual  persistence. 
For  a  moment  he  stood  his  ground, 
thinking  swiftly.  The  girl  had  slipped 
away,  and  suddenly  he  heard  from 
behind  him  a  quick  report.  A  bullet 
whirred  over  his  head  and  a  familiar 
voice,  low  and  anxious  but  steady, 
said: 

"Get  back  to  your  canoe.  This  one 
is  loaded.  Take  it,  Frank,"  and 
glancing  round  quickly  he  saw  the  girl 
coming  up  behind  him  and  with  a 
steady  arm  holding  in  firing  position  a 
small  automatic  revolver.  The  breeds 
sullenly  gave  way  before  her,  and, 
taking  the  gun  from  her.  Van  Ostrand 
followed  them  down  to  the  shore. 

Sending  a  couple  of  bullets  over 
their  heads  by  way  of  menace  he  shout- 
ed; "Get  off  now,  and  if  you  come 
within  ten  miles  of  here  again  I'll 
riddle  you."  He  watched  the  two 
canoes  out  of  sight  and  then  turned 
back  to  the  camp. 

The  girl  was  standing  where  he  had 
left  her,  sobbing  deeply,  overcome 
with  nervous  reaction.  Without  a 
word  or  a  thought,  it  seemed,  she  came 
and  laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder, 
snuggling  close  as  if  for  protection 
while  his  arm  went  round  her. 

"I  was  afraid  they'd  shoot  you  in 
your  canoe,"  she  sobbed.  "Charlie 
and  that  horrid  brute  pulled  me  out 
of  the  tent  just  before  you  came  in 
sight.  How  did  you  scare  off  the 
Indian  with  the  gun  ?" 

"Big  Eye  ?"  he  answered,  smiling 
at  the  memory  of  that  feature  of  the 
fracas.  "Oh,  I  kicked  him  out  of  my 
camp  last  fall  and  as  soon  as  he  got  a 
good  look  he  remembered  me.  I'd 
have  had  the  other  two  off  just  as 
easily  if  they  hadn't  been  drinking. 
That  accounts  for  the  whole  trouble. 
Then,  anxiously,  "the  brutes  didn't 
hurt  you  much,  I  hope." 

With  the  assurance  of  his  presence 
the  sobbing  quickly  subsided  and  after 
a  moment  or  two,  with  a  lift  of  the 
face  from  his  shoulder  and  a  telltale 
glance  int(j  his  eyes  while  her  face  was 
flooded  with  rosy  color,  "No,  but — you 
won't  go  away  from  me  again  ?' 

"Dear,"  said  Van  Ostrand,  with  joy 
in  his  voice,  thinking  his  dreams  of 
the  morning  were  to  be  realized,  and 
drawing  his  arm  closer  about  her,  "I 

won't  ever " 

The  gatling-like  exhaust  of  a  high- 
powered  motor  boat  coming  suddenly 
against  the  wind  from  the  east  incon- 
siderately interrupted  the  speech  and 
the  two  drew  hastily  apart  as  a  launch 


fan 


Cerfam-teed} 


ROOFINO 


mm^ 


Tho  General 
says:-* 

Accept  no  "test"  of  rooflnp— for 
toughness,  pliability,  tensile 
strength,  etc.  There  is  no  test — 
by  which  you  can  Judge  how  lone  a  roof 
will  last.  The  only  proof  U  on  the  roof. 
T'liis  label  on 

Certairi'teed 

ROOFING 

reprPsentstheresr>onslbiIitrof  thpthrpe 
biergest  mills  In  the  r*xjling  industry— 
when  Iteuarnntecsyou  fifteen  years  of 
service  on  the  ronf  In  CtTtajn-temd. 
Look  for  this  euarantee  label  on  every 
roll  or  crate. 

Your  dealer  can  furnish  Cerialn-teeJ 
EoofinKin  rolls  and  shingles— made  by 
the  General  HooflnK  Mfg-.  Co.,  wnrUls 
largest  roofiiw  manufacturers.  East  f^t. 
Louis,  111.,  Marseilles,  111.,   York,  Pa. 


RED 
MAN 


A  Low  Collar  for  Summer  Wear. 

Also  particularly  suitable  for  the 
stout  man  for    year    round  wear. 

20c,  or  3  for  50c. 

Very  comfortable  and  possessing  to  a 
high  degree  the  marked  perfection  of  dis- 
tinctive style  which  distinguishes  the  Red 
Man  Brand  from  all  others. 

For  sale  by  Canada  'a  Best  Men 's  Store* 

EARL  &  WILSON  -  New  York 

Makers  of  Trot's  Best  Product 


carrying  three  or  four  men  and  an 
anxious-looking  young  woman  shot 
round  the  point  and  up  to  the  landing. 

In  a  moment  the  girl  was  in  another 
pair  of  arms  while  Van  Ostrand  stood 
off  rather  discountenanced. 

"Oh  Peggy,"  the  mother  articulated, 
between  sobs  of  joy.  "You're  safe, 
and  my  baby  ?" 

"He's  been  asleep  in  the  tent  for 
two  hours,"  said  the  girl,  now  quite 
master  of  herself  but  with  a  high  color 


ENGAGEMENT  RINGS 

Diamonds  of  high  quality  and  brilliance,  in 
flnelj  proportioned  14k  gold  platinum  tipped 
settings.     They  are  the  best  value  obtainaole. 


a(i>  ^ 


525,00        S40  00 


so. on       J8,00        S7.00 


WEDDING  RINGS 

Our  rings  are  perfect  in  form  and  color.  They 
are  made  of  18k  gold  without  joints  and 
hardened  by  a  special  process,  ensuring  the 
hardest  wearing  quality. 

SiXM  card  b^tU  to  any  addreMS, 

Correspondence  solicited. 

JOHN  S.  BARNARD 

IM  Dundas  Street,  London,  Canada. 


Every  mansion  or  cottage 
has  need  for  a  liKhtweight 


PEERLESS 


"  FOLDING 
TABLE— 

The  convenience  and  service  of  these  practical 
and  tx-antiful  tables  can  best  be  appreciated  by 
their  u»e.  Splendid  for  games,  for  sewing,  read- 
ing or  lunching.  For  house,  verandah  or  lawn. 
Li£htwei£bl  Peerless  rolding  Tables  are  noted 
for  ihcir  great  stiength  and  durability.  The 
•te«l  sutomatlc  brace*  prevent  wobbling.  Absolutely 
•taunch  and  rigid.  Can  be  folded  In  a  moment  and  set 
Slide.  No  home  ihould  be  without  one 
iladc  In  various  tlzea — round  and  aquare — green  felt. 
IsatherMtr  or  polUhed  natural  wood  top.  A  table  for 
STcry  purpose. 

A.k  vourdf^lpr,  alv>  write  for  illuAtnited  cataloc  "M" 

«ml   let  us  show  you  the  many  real  u««a  to  whicA  thcvc 

t«t>le«  cah  be  put.    Write  now. 

HOURD  &  COMPANY.  Limited 

Sol*  LIc«ni««s  and  Manufactursri, 
London      -      -      -      .      -      Ontario 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

and  looking  in  spite  of  a  sense  of  relief 
as  if  the  arrivals  were  none  too  wel- 
come.    "Whatever  happened  to  you  ?" 

Van  Ostrand's  turn  came  in  a  few 
minutes  when  with  merely  a  slight 
blush  the  girl  introduced  her  "good 
angel."  He  had  already  shaken  hands 
with  Ferguson,  the  factor  of  the  Post, 
whom  he  had  met  before. 

"Those  two  got  to  us  yesterday," 
Ferguson  explained,  "in  pretty  bad 
shape.  Been  wandering  round  in 
Little  Horse  lake  for  two  days  looking 
for  the  right  portage  and  were  short 
of  grub.  We  started  back  here  right 
away  but  the  duffer  had  gotten  so 
mixed  up  he  couldn't  tell  us  whether 
his  island  was  east  or  west.  We've 
been  covering  the  shore  of  the  lower 
lake  all  night  and  came  up  here  on 
spec.  The  girl  was  mighty  lucky  to 
have  you  light  in  on  her.  I'll  wager 
though,"  with  a  look  toward  the  tents 
where  the  two  women  had  disappeared, 
"you  didn't  find  the  time  hang  heavy." 

Luck,  or  the  management  of  the 
mother,  who,  perhaps  naturally,  seem- 
ed to  want  all  her  family  to  herself 
after  the  trying,  if  brief,  separation, 
placed  Van  Ostrand  apart  from  the 
girl  in  the  launch,  when  after  the  camp 
had  been  abandoned,  an  hour  or  so 
later,  the  party  started  back  for  the 
Post.  She  smiled  across  at  him  several 
times  in  an  appealing  sort  of  way,  and 
once  or  twice  quieted  the  babe's 
mother's  comments  on  her  story  of  the 
three  days  on  the  island.  He  tried 
not  to  listen  but  occasional  phrases 
came  to  him  at  intervals  and  once  the 
words:  "What  will  Billy  say  when 
we  tell  him  all  about  it  ?"  sent  a  chill 
to  his  heart. 

So  there  was  another  man.  What  a 
fool  he  had  been  to  anticipate  other- 
wise. No  girl  like  that  could  live  in  a 
college  town  without  being  spoken  for. 
No  ring  ?  Well,  nobody  was  going 
to  carry  diamonds  into  the  woods  for 
the  view  of  Indians  and  half-breeds. 
Her  actions  ?  They  were  easily  ac- 
counted for  by  the  circumstances. 
Any  woman  who  had  been  under 
similar  nerve  strain  would  have  done 
the  same.  Anyway,  he  had  no  right  to 
speak  further  now. 

He  tried,  though,  wanting  his  evi- 
dence at  first  hand,  to  get  a  moment 
alone  with  her  at  the  post  that  evening 
but  she  seemed  to  avoid  him. 

"Peggy  is  tired  out,"  said  little  Jim's 
mother,  when  he  went  around  to  in- 
quire after  tea,  "and  has  gone  to  bed." 

So  this  was  to  be  the  end  of  it.  Very 
well.  If  that's  all  she  cared  he  sup- 
posed he  could  stand  it.  Surely  three 
days  alone  with  a  girl  in  the  woods 
wouldn't  unsettle  him  for  life. 

The  brother-in-law,  Fred,  after  being 
properly  thankful,  was  too  busy  with 
his  birds  and  worms  to  furnish  any 
information    and,    decidedly    piqued, 


297 


HE  LOVES 
HIS  BATH 


CUTICURA 
50AP 

Because  it  is  so  soothing 
and  refreshing  when  the 
skin  is  hot,  irritated  and 
rashy,  especially  when 
assisted  by  Hght  touches 
of  Cuticura  Ointment. 

Samples  Free  by  Mail 

Cuticura  Soup  and  Ointment  sold  ttirouKhout  the 
world.  Lltwnil  Bample  of  c&ch  mailed  free,  with  32-p. 
book.    Address  "Cuticura,"  Ucpt.  133.  Boston. 


Children 
Teething 

Motfasrt  should  five  only  the  well-known 


Doctor  Stedman*s 
teething  powders 


TRADE     ^&SMaSk>      MARK 


The  many  millioni  that  are  annually  naed 
oonstltute  the  beat  teatimonial  In  their  fa- 
vor, they  are  guaranteed  by  the  proprietor 
to  be  absolutely  free  from  opium. 
See  the  Trade  Mark,  a  Gum  Lancet,  on 
every  packet  and  powder.  Refuae  all 
not  80  diatincuiahed. 

Small  Packets,  9  Powders 
Large  Packets,  30  Powdera 

OF  All  OHIMIITI  AaO  OKIll  tTOKIt. 
SWUrtOTOUT:  1»  IIIW  IIOIITH  HOtO.  lOIIOOS.  ISSUSt. 


298 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Boys— Here's  an  Offer 

from  Matthewson,  the 

World's   Greatest 

Baseball  Pitcher 

You  do  a  little  spare  time  work! 
for  Matthewson,  and  he  will  show 
you  in  return  how  to  pitch  FRFF 
his   Fade -Away   curve  ■^■■^" 


'^L 


Now,  boys,  is  the  chance  to  show 
what  you're  made  of.  Here's  Matthew- 
8on.  the  great  Christy  Matthewson, 
who  is  the  idol  and  the  hero  of  baseball 
fans,  who  has  won  five  championships 
for  the  New  York  Giants  by  his  superb 
pitching— wilhng  to  show  you  all  the 
inside  secrets  of  his  famous  "fade- 
away'* curve  and  coach  you  into  be- 
coming the  boy-wonder  pitcher  of 
your  town,  if  you  have  the  grit  and 
gameness  to  work  a  httle  during  your 
spare  time. 

But  you've  got  to  show  Matthewson 
that  your  blood  is  red.  "Matty"  is 
one  of  the  finest  fellows  alive  and  he*U 
ihow  you  how  to  just  make  all  the 


other  boys  in  your  town  look  like 
monkey's  when  you're  pitching;  but 
you've  got  to  work  to  make  good. 
Vou  never  can  be  a  good  base-ball 
pitcher  if  you're  rot  game,  and  if 
you're  not  game  enough  to  sell  a  few 
papers  and  collect  for  them  during 
spare  time  each  week  to  get  Matthew* 
son's  lessons  in  Pitching,why  Matthew- 
son doesn't  want  you. 

Kut  if  you're  a  "live  one,"  "Matty"  wm 
take  you  into  hia  confidence,  explain  his 
secrets  of  Btrikinfr  out  batters  to  you,  and 
show  you  everytninor  plain  aa  A-B-C  bo 
the  other  boya  simply  can't  have  a  chance 
apainst  you,  and  in  addition  you  have  plenty 
of  pocket  money  all  the  time. 


Here  Is  Maithewson's  SPECIAL  FREE  OFFER 

Tolearn  to  be  a  real  pitcher  takes  nerve  and  work.  Boys  with  "yellow  streaks*'  in  them 
(iren't  worth  Matthewson's  time.  If  you  want  to  be  one  of  hia  hoys,  working  and  train- 
ing under  him,  you  have  got  to  show  him  your  gameness  right  from  the  start. 

When  you  sipn  and  mail  the  coupon,  you  will  receive  away"  twist  on  it.  You  must 
Maithewson's  first  lesson— FREE.  You  will  also  be  work  every  day  at  it  until  you 
sent  a  package  of  Saturday  Blades  and  Chicago  can  fool  every  boy  in  your  town. 
Ledgers.  You  are  to  deliver  the  Blades  and  Ledgers  Matthewson  will  show  you  how 
to  the  regular  customers  and  collect  the  money  for  to  do  it,  but  you  must  have  tha 
them.  It  is  on  the  way  you  make  good  with  the  ambition  and  industry  to  prac- 
papers  sent  you  that  depends  your  future  with  the  tice  it.  Now,  do  you  want  to  be 
baseball  lessons.  Make  good,  boy,  and  you'll  never  one  of  Mattnewson's  boys?  Only 
regret  it.  Show  Matthewson  that  you're  a  true  blue  one  boy  in  a  town  can  be  it.  Are 
koy  who  is  deserving  of  his  teaching.  You  can  be  you  ambitious  to  know  the  professional's  method  of 
jie  champion  boy  pitcher  of  your  town.  Just  practice  pitching?  Do  you  really  want  to  master  Maithewson's 
what  Matthewson  tells  you.  wonderful  "fade-away"  curve?    Then  make  up  your 

Learn  just  how  to  grip  the  ball,  how  to  place  your     mind  to  get  rid  of  every  speck  of  laziness  and  start  to 
feet,  how  to  swing  your  arm,  how  to  put  the  **fade-     work  for  the  great  Matthewson  and  learn  from  him. 

FREE        Personal  Instruction  from 


Matty  is  an  Honor  for  Any  Boy 

It's  an  honor  few  boys  can  attain— to  get  personal 
instruction  from  a  pitcher  like  Matthewson  —  the  great- 
ost  pitcher  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Only  one  boy  in  a 
town  may  have  it— write  today.  Send  no  money—simply 
Bign  and  mail  the  coupon.  The  first  great  lesson  by 
Matthewson  on  how  to  throw  the  "fade-away"  curve 
will  come  by  return  mail.  Go  right  to  it — make  good. 
Don't  be  an  idler.  Come  along,  boy,  and  get  la  with 
UattbewsOD.       SEND    TUB    COUPON. 


SEND  ME  MATTHEWSON'S 
LESSON  FREE. 


Count  THP  in  as  one  of  MatthewBon's  boys  who 
%vanta  to  know  how  to  throw  hia  famous  curves. 
SimiJ  alons  tha  Blades  and  Ledgers  and  1  will  sell 
them  and  collect  the  money. 


Addresa _^ 

Mailto  W.D.Bovce  Co.,  Dept,41u  Chicago 


THE 

Canadian  Bank   of  Commerce 

HEAD  OFFICE      -      -      -      TORONTO 

CAPITAL  $15,000,000        REST  $13,500,000 

SIR  EDMUND  WALKER,  C.V.O..  LL.D.,  DC L..  President 

ALEXANDER  LAIRD  JOHN  AIRD 

General  Manager  Assistant  General  Manager 

V.  C.  BROWN,  Superintendent  of  Central  Western  Branches 

BRANCHES  THROUGHOUT  CANADA.  AND  IN  LONDON,  ENGLAND.  ST.  JOHN'S. 
NEWFOUNDLAND,  THE  UNITED  STATES  AND  MEXICO 


SAVINGS  BANK. DEPARTMENT 

Interest  at  the  current  rate  is  allowed  on  all  deposits  of  $  1 .00  and 
upwards.  Small  accounts  are  welcomed.  Accounts  may  be  opened  in 
the  names  of  two  or  more  persons,  withdrawals  to  be  made  by  any  one  of 
the  number. 

*     Accounts  can  be  opened   and   operated   by  mail   as  easily  as  by  a 
personal  visit  to  the  bank. 


the  surveyor  got  an  outfit  of  supplies 
and  started  off  for  the  nearest  railway 
station  the  next  morning  before  the 
post  was  awake,  leaving  only  a  note 
in  lieu  of  good-bye. 

He  tried  to  put  the  girl  out  of  his 
mind  by  looking  forward  to  the  joys  of 
getting  home  but  that  he  succeeded 
rather  poorly  was  evidenced  next  after- 
noon when  he  startled  two  or  three 
other  occupants  of  the  smoker  of  the 
chair  car  by  jumping  up  suddenly  out 
of  a  brown  study  and  ejaculating 
vigorously:  "What  a  darn  fool  I  am. 
I  don't  even  know  her  name." 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  old 
man  ?  Been  working  too  hard  ?  Seem 
to  have  lost  all  your  kick.  I  don't 
believe  you've  danced  with  more  than 
one  girl  to-night.  Mighty  different 
from  your  old  days.  I  remember  how 
you  used  to     ...     " 

Van  Ostrand  was  sitting  in  an  alcove, 
mentally  kicking  himself  for  having 
been  persuaded  to  delay  his  departure 
for  the  north  to  attend  his  class  re- 
union and  half  listening  to  Wells,  a 
former  classmate,  who  wandered  aim- 
lessly from  topic  to  topic.  He  watched 
the  dancers  with  perfunctory  interest, 
occasionally  grunting  out  a  half-intel- 
ligible comment. 

Suddenly  he  sat  up  and  laid  his  hand 
on  Wells'  arm.  A  tall  girl  in  pink  with 
a  lithe  bearing  which  struck  him  as 
strangely  familiar  moved  across  in 
front  of  them  and  stopped  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs  as  if  waiting  for  some  one. 
He  couldn't  see  her  face  but  the  turn 
of  the  neck,  the  curve  of  the  shoulders 
as  revealed  by  the  low-cut  gown  and 
the  golden  head  were  enough  for  him 
to  identify  her  unmistakably. 

"The  girl  in  pink  !"  He  interrupted 
Wells  rather  excitedly.  "Who  is  she  ? 
Do  you  know  her  ?" 

"What  ?  Has  Peggy  got  you,  too  ?" 
Wells  threw  back,  after  a  glance  in  the 
direction  indicated  by  his  friend's  eyes. 
"Know  her  ?  She's  sister  to  the  Hast- 
ings I  was  just  telling  you  about  who 
took  the  junior  chair  in  physics  this 
fall.  Keeps  house  for  him.  Half  the 
boys  are  wild  about  her,  but  she  stands 
'em  all  off  strictly.  LTX)king  for  bigger 
game,  perhaps.  If  you're  interested, 
come  over  and  I'll  present  you." 

Van  Ostrand  was  away  before  the 
speech  was  finished. 

As  before,  the  girl  seemed  to  feel  his 
presence  telepathically,  for  she  turned 
as  he  approached,  looked  at  him  curi- 
ously for  a  moment  and  paled  just  a 
little  as  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"I  scarcely  knew  my  good  angel  in 
civilized  garb,"  she  said,  "and  as  usual 
you  are  just  in  time  to  get  me  out  of 
difficulty,  if  you  will.  My  brother 
Billy  promised  to  meet  me  here  to  take 
me  home,  but " 

"Brother  Billy  !"  he  gasped. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


299 


"Yes,     Why  ?     Didn't  you  know  ?" 

"Can  you  forgive  me  for  being  such 
a  fool  ?"  he  questioned  when,  with 
explanations  in  the  living  room  of  her 
brother's  house  a  little  later,  their 
relations  had  gone  back  almost  to  the 
point  where  they  had  been  interrupted 
five  months  before. 

"Perhaps,"  she  said,  "it  was  justifi- 
able under  the  circumstances.  "Per- 
haps, too,"  looking  up  into  his  eyes  in 
the  roguish  way  he  so  well  remem- 
bered, "perhaps  I  was  a  little  to  blame. 
Madge  told  me  on  the  way  down  in  the 
launch  that  afternoon  that  she  had 
heard  of  you  as  being  the  biggest  flirt 
that  ever  went  through  your  college. 
I  knew  you  were  awfully  nice,  and — 
and — helpful,  but  when  I  began  to 
wonder  how  many  other  girls  you'd — " 

Her  eyes  fell  with  the  old  habit  of 
leaving  her  listener  to  supply  difficult 
passages. 

"Then  when  we  came  here  and  I 
found  she'd  mixed  you  up  with  a  Van 
Ostrand  in  another  year  I  felt  rather 
guilty  and  wondered  whether  I  should 
ever  see  you  again." 

Van  Ostrand  smothered  an  honest 
impulse  to  find  out  where  he  had  a 
good  enough  friend  to  lie  so  effectively 
for  him,  and  turned  with  perceptible 
twinges  of  conscience  to  the  matter  in 
hand. 

"Ever  since  we  were  interrupted  up 
there,"  he  began,  when  the  golden  head 
lay  again  on  his  shoulder,  "I've  had  an 
irrepressible  longing  to  have  those 
arms  around  my  neck.  If  you  have 
any  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  in 
your  heart,  Peggy,  put  them  there." 

A  masculine  step  sounded  on  the 
verandah,  and  a  latch  key  clinked  its 
way  into  the  lock. 

She  looked  up  at  him,  a  little  more 
rosy  than  usual,  with  another  of  the 
roguish  glances  and  quickly  giving  the 
desired  caress,  whi«;:,ered:  "Will  the 
condensed  brand  do  ?  There's  Billy, 
and  I'm  afraid  we'll  be  interrupted 
again." 


DC 


Delivery  of  Dohhett 

Continued  from  page  244. 

put    his   business   on   a   strictly   cash 
basis  and   immediately  doubled   it. 

In  the  same  period  Mrs.  Dobbett's 
manner  slowly — almost  imperceptibly 
— changed.  John  Henry  was  first 
aware  of  it  when  one  morning  she 
slipped  out  of  bed  and  lit  the  gas.  She 
did  it  without  a  word.  Why,  she 
could  not  have  explained  to  herself. 
It  was  involuntary — almost  devotional. 
Her  blanketted  husband  watched  her 
with  amazement.  He  waited  for  her 
to  mention  it.  She  never  did.  And 
from  that  time  on  it  was  the  cylindrical 
form  of  Maria  Dobbctt  that  first 
braved   the   untempered   morn. 


— iia 


A 

Sudden 
Reiin 


A  deluge  of  water  that  could  do  a  lot  of  damage  to 
some  varnished  floors  and  window  casings,  but  when  they 
are  finished  with  a  tough  waterproof  varnish  like  Liquid 
Granite  no  damage  whatever  is  done. 

LIQUID  GRANITE 

is  a  varnish  that  makes  floors  easy  to  keep  clean — scrubbing  with 
soap  and  water  only  adds  to  their  brightness  and  lustre. 

Liquid  Granite  gives  interior  woodwork  a  tough  elastic  surface 
that  resists  the  wear  and  tear  of  constant  use  in  home  or  office. 

Over  56  years  of  manufacturing  experience  and  service  assures 
your  permanent  satisfaction  in  the  use  of  Berry  Brothers'  products. 

If  it's  a  new  home  or  retouching  up  the  old — be  sure  and  tell 
your  decorator  to  use  Berry  Brothers'  finishes. 

BERRY  BROTHERC 
I  (IMCOB-I'On_ATCD>  ^      ^^ 

Grid's  Lar^esfV^rnish  Makers  »*^ 


—Established    18S8- 

WALKERVILLE 


ONT. 


But  there  was  another  vast  difTer- 
ence.  Dobbett  could  not  dream. 
Night  after  night  he  lay  awake,  hunt- 
ing desperately  for  the  garden  gate. 
He  could  never  find  it.  He  had  con- 
cealed the  tokeo  successfully.  It  was 
bringing  him  things  that  the  Dobbett 
of  a  year  ago  never  grasped  at.  He 
had  remodelled  his  home.  He  had 
licked,  yes,  actually  licked,  some  of 
the  smug  pertness  out  of  his  children, 
while  their  mother  stood  by  wordless. 
He  had  made  friends  in  the  ward.     It 


was  even  whispered  that  he  could  have 
the  nomination  for  alderman.  But, 
somewhere  in  the  back  of  his  head,  was 
something  that  had  never  surrendered 
to  prunes  and  kippered  herring.  Dob- 
bett was  a  dreamer;  he  knew  that — 
now  that  he  could  not  dream.  Morn- 
ing after  morning  found  him  unre- 
freshed.  And  all  through  the  day, 
while  everything  went  with  miraculous 
smoothness  and  success,  he  was  haunt- 
ed by  the  thought  that  he  had  lost  the 
garden  of  delight. 


)S 


300 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


First  Aids 


Purchasing 
'  Agent  > 


you 

fighting 

your  cost 

sheet?     If  so, 

look  at  the  pencil 

item.  If  you  are  buying 

wooden    pencils,    that 

item    is   certainly   too 

big. 

Subtract  a  third  to  ^^^^ 

a   quarter    from    the  "^^^ 

item  and  write  "Blaisdell  Paper  Pen- 
cils" in  place  of  those  specified.  This 
is  a  tangible,  practical  economy  we  are 
prepared  to  demonstrate  before  you 
buy  (if  you  will  write  and  ask  us). 

Blaisdell  622  is  a  "hit"  with  news- 
paper men,  stenographers  and  rapid 
writers  generally.  Oredr  by  number 
from  your  stationer. 

There  are  Blaisdell  Pencils  of  every 
kind  for  every  purpose. 

Pencils  specially  .imprinted  for  advertising 
purposes. 

Sold  by  all  progressive  Caitadittn'slaliontrs.^ 


^/aisde/A 


/"  Paper 
^  Pencil 
Company 


IDE  MOST  POPULAR  PERFUME  IN  DAILY  LbE 

INDISPENSABLE  ON   EVERY   DRESSING-TABLE 


For  the 
Bath  and  Toilet 

alway5  use  the  genuine 

MURRAY  Q 

LANMAN'S 
Florida  Water 


Imitations  of  this  delicious  perfame 

are  numberless,  but  it  has 

never  been  equalled. 

IT  REFRESHES  AND  DEUGHTS 

as  doem  no  other* 


A]w»y»  look  for  the  Trade  Mark. 


PREPARED   ONLV    BY 

LANMAN  (S>  YJLWfi 

NEW   YORK 

and 
.MONTUEAt . 


REFUSE    SUBSTITUTES! 


A-livaya  be  sure  to  look  for  onr  Trade  Mark 
on  the  neck  of  the  bottle. 


All  "ARLINGTON  COLLARS"  are  good, 
but  our  CHALLENGE  BRAND  is  the  best 


Sometimes,  behind  his  dcsic,  after 
making  quite  sure  that  everything  was 
safe,  he  would  take  out  the  token  and 
gaze  at  it.  He  began  to  think  that  he 
would  like  to  send  it  back. 

One  day  Rafferty  came  in  and  held 
a  gigantic  hand  across  the  counter. 
Dobbett  surveyed  it  with  interest  and 
winced  as  his  own  fingers  were  engulfed. 

"I'm  riprisintin'  the  electors  av  th' 
Young  Progressive  Parrty,"  said  Raf- 
ferty, genially,  "an'  the  byes  inst- 
thructed  me  to  offer  yez  th'  nomina- 
tion f'r  th'  ilivinth  warrd.  It'll  be  the 
divil's  own  fight,"  he  added  cheer- 
fully, "but  the  byes  has  decided  that 
you're  th'  only  man  in  the  warrd 
whose  ricord'll  sthand  invistigatin'. 
Are  yez  wid  us  ?" 

Dobbett  blinked  at  him.  It  had 
come  at  last.  He  turned  and  saw  his 
wife  at  the  back  door  of  the  shop. 
Her  eye'fe  were  sparkling,  her  bosom 
heaving.  He  felt  a  sudden  surge  of 
ambition. 

"You  do  me  a  great  honor,"  he  said, 
with  a  pinkness  in  his  cheeks,  "but  I 
don't  know  that  I  have  any  decided 
platform  in  this  election." 

Rafferty  grinned.  "Rest  aisy  wid 
yure  platform.  The  byes  will  fix  that 
all  right.  'Tis  yure  ricord  we're  afther. 
There's  lashin's  and  lavin's  of  plat- 
forms down  at  headquarters." 

Dobbett  hesitated — then  glanced  at 
his  wife.  He  could  afford  to  be  gener- 
ous. He  had  a  vision,  of  the  years 
through  which  she  toiled  beside  him, 
and  besides  he  had  not  got  up  first  now 
for  what  seemed  a  long  time. 

"Well,"  he  said,  his  fingers  closing 
again  over  the  token  in  his  pocket, 
"I'll  join  you." 

In  a  few  days  the  streets  of  the 
•eleventh  ward  were  placarded  for 
Dobbett.  His  soul  quivered  at  the 
sight  of  his  name  in  letters  a  foot  long — 
his  virtues  heralded  in  a  large  redness. 
"Dobbett — the  friend  of  the  people." 
His  wife  regarded  him  with  a  mixture 
of  awe  and  pride, — swinging  his  heels 
on  the  counter,  discussing  the  tax  rate. 
Then,  one  evening  at  headquarters, 
when  Dobbett  communed  with  the 
great  ones  of  the  ward,  they  took  him 
into   their  confidence  absolutely. 

The  Young  Progressives  were  out 
for  a  park — such  a  park  as  would  make 
the  other  wards  tired.  Its  location 
was  chosen.  It  would  occupy  the  whole 
block  in  which  was  Dobbett's  grocery. 

"But,  gentlemen,"  he  expostulated, 
"what  am  I  going  to  do  ?" 

"Ye'll  sell  out,  like  Murphy  and 
Blake  and  Henessy  there,"  said  Raf- 
ferty. "Man  alive,  don't  yez  think 
we're  goin'  to  take  care  av  our  own 
candidate  ?" 

"But  I  don't  want  to  sell."  Dobbett 
was  conscious  that  his  business 
increasing  rapidly. 

"Phwat  is  your  business  worth  ? 


What  Does  a  Man  Ask 
Of  a  Shoe  ? 

First  of  til  you  should  Insist 
on  "ap|)earance."    But  fit  and 

wear  are  Just  as  important. 
Three  things,  then,  to  look 
for;  and  you  get  the  combin- 
ation at  its  very  best  when 
you  buy  the 

ALTPO 

SHOE  for-   MEN 

Made  by  a  concern  whose  name  has 
alwayp  stood  for  quality — whose  euc-- 
cess  is  built  on  quality — whose  ex- 
pert shoe-makers  are  imbued  with  the 
highest   ideals  of  quality. 

All  the  things  that  go  into  the 
making  of  our  hiph-crade  footwear 
cost  us  more  to-dav  than  ever  ;  but  the 
high  standard  will  be  maintained  at 
any  cost.  We  get  even  by  selling 
more  shoes — ^because  more  people, 
yearly,  are  learning  to  appreciate 
their  real  superiority. 


came   in    Rafferty.     He   was   smiling. 

"It  will  be  worth  three  thousand  a 
year  at  the  end  of  the  year."  Dobbett 
spoke  with  a  thrill  of  pride. 

"Three  thousand  !  Well  now,  think 
of  that  !  On  a  foive  per  cint  basis — 
'twould  make  sixty  thousand  dollars. 
Wud  that  satisfy  yez  ?" 

The  little  grocer  suddenly  flushed. 
"It  isn't  worth  it,"  he  said  sharply, 
was  "Phwat's   ailin'    yez  ?     Who   sez   it 


is  ?     All  I'm  asking  is  will  yez 
sixty  thousand  dollars  ?" 


take 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


301 


"Where  is  it  coming  from  ?" 

Rafferty  lay  back  and  laughed. 
"From  under  th'  Progressive  platform. 
Man,  it's  the  chance  of  a  lifetime." 

The  more  Dobbett  thought  of  it  the 
less  he  liked  it.  They  had  kept  this  up 
their  political  sleeve  till  he  was  com- 
mitted to  his  friends  and  the  public. 
The  little  grocer  had  his  own  ideas  of 
theft — but  to  break  away  now  would 
ruin  him.     He  played  for  time. 

"Let  me  think  it  over,"  he  pleaded, 
and  walked  home  iii  a  maze. 

In  the  sitting  room  above  the  shop 
he  tried  to  work  it  out.  He  had  a 
curious  sensation  that  this  was  the 
culmination  of  something,  and  his 
decision  was  enormously  important. 
Sixty  thousand  dollars  was  a  lot  of 
money.  He  felt  the  ability  to  double 
it  shortly.  After  that  nothing  was 
impossible.  Then  he  thought  of  Maria 
and  the  children.  A  great  change  had 
come  over  them  both  of  late.  Maria 
was  better  tempered.  She  did  not 
scold,  and  that  was  a  relief.  But  for 
all  that  he  always  felt  tired.  One 
thing  had  led  to  another,  till  he  began 
to  be  frightened  at  his  own  imagination. 
He  was  much  better  off,  but  was  he 
any  happier  ?  One  part  of  him  seemed 
dead — the  part  that  had  lived  such  a 
wonderful  existence  every  night — and 
he  doubted  whether  there  was  in  the 
every  day  world  anything  that  quite 
made  up  for  that  loss.  He  tried  also 
to  determine  what  else  there  was 
beside  money  in  this  new  life  that  the 
former  one  had  lacked.  For  one  thing 
he  knew  much  less  of  himself.  His 
days  seemed  to  be  more  the  reflection 
of  other  people's.  As  to  the  children, 
Maria  had  now  decided  that  they 
would  never  work.  There  had  been 
no  question  about  it  before.  He  took 
out  the  token  and  stared  at  it  long  and 
earnestly.  It  seemed  alive  with  soft 
green  flame,  and  almost  blazed  in  his 
palm.  What  would  Rafferty  say  if — 
The  thought  of  Rafferty  brought  back 
the  question  he  must  answer  to-mor- 
row. Must  "he  pocket  his  principles 
and  sixty  thousand  dollars?  The  weight 
of  it  followed  him  to  bed,  where  he  lay 
listening  to  Maria's  audible  slumbers. 

Presently  he  smelt  the  odor  of 
flowers  and  a  long  garden  path  opened 
ahead.  He  walked  happily  along, 
feeling  that  it  was  good  to  be  here. 
There  were  indistinct  memories  of 
former  visits  and  a  more  distinct  im- 
pression that  he  had  just  arrived  from 
a  much  less  attractive  place.  It 
all  heightened  his  enjoyment.  Then 
coming  toward  him  he  observed  a 
beautiful  woman  with  sea  green  eyes. 
There  was  something  familiar  about 
her.  She  stood  in  front  of  him  and 
smiled  and  held  out  her  hand.  Auto- 
matically he  dropped  the  token  into  it. 
It  was  quite  natural  and  the  only 
thing  to  do» 


If  it  isn't 
an  Eastman, 
it  isn't 
a  Kodak, 


A 


The  New  No.   lA 

KODAK  JR. 


thin,  compact,  convenient  camera  of  high  efficiency.     The 
shape  of  the  pictures  is  rectangular  (23/2  x  43^  inches),  and 
pleasingly  suited  to  landscapes  and  home  portraits. 

Choice  of  meniscus  achromatic  or  Rapid  Rectilinear  lens; 
has  new  Kodak  Ball  Bearing  shutter  with  cable  release,  for 
time  and  bulb  exposures,  and  speeds  of  1/25,  1/50  and  1/100 
of  a  second;  improved  back  for  quick  reloading;  automatic 
focusing  lock;  collapsible  reversible  finder  and  two  tripod 
sockets.  Uses  Kodak  Film  cartridges  of  six  and  twelve  ex- 
posures, loading  and  unloading  in  daylight. 


Price,  with  meniscus  achromatic  lens. 
Ditto,  with  Rapid  Rectilinear  lens, 


$  9.00 
11.00 


Free  catalogue  at  your  dealers,  or  by  mail. 


CANADIAN  KODAK  CO.,  Limited, 


-    TORONTO 


Tlic  beautiful  jvision  smiled  again, 
then  vanished.  He  stared  about. 
There  was  no  one  but  himself  on  the 
garden  walk. 

Dobbett  sat  down  to  think  it  all 
over.  In  one  way  be  seemed  to  have 
had  that  token  for  a  long  time.  In 
another  he  seemed  only  to  ha\'e  looked 
at  it.  He  lay  back  in  the  s'rass  and 
wrinkled  his  brows. 

Presently  he  felt  vaguelv  uncom- 
fortable and  opened  his  eyes.  He  was 
in  bed.  The  morning  light  was  steal- 
ing in.     He  could  just  see  the  budding 


leaves  outside.  The  gas  bracket  was 
distinctly  visible.  A  sharp  elbow  pro- 
jected into  his  side.  "John  Henry! 
Aren't  you  ever  going  to  get  up  ?" 

The  little  grocer  blinked  rapidly. 
How  did  those  leaves  get  there  ?  To- 
day he  had  to  see  Rafferty  and  give  his 
decision.  The  election  was  next 
month.  But  that  was  the  first  of 
January.  He  felt  giddy  and  slipped 
his  hand  under  the  pillow  for  the 
token.     It  had  disappeared. 

He  slid  out  of  bed  and  stood  for  an 
instant,  speechless.     He  gazed  at  the 


302 


THE 

)EAL  APERIENT 

Of  Druggists,  30  c.  per  box  or  postage  paid 

for  35  c.  direct  from 

LYMAN'S,     LTD., 

IVION'X'FCEAL.. 


The 

Original 

and 

Only 

Genuine 

Beware 

of 

Imitations 

Sold 

on  the 

Merits 

of 

Minard's 
Liniment 


When  in  the  West 

Drink  Western  Canada's 
Favorite  Beer 

Redwood 
Lager 

SOLD  BY  AU  DEALERS 

E.  L.  Drewiy 

Redwood 
Factories 

Winnipeg 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

rounded  hummock  that  marked  his 
prostrate  ■  spouse — then  at  the  leaves 
that  swept  the  window  panes.  Slowly 
his  face  broadened  into  a  smile.  He 
seemed  about  to  burst  into  chaotic 
laughter,  then  glanced  at  the  bed  and 
checked  himself.  The  hummock 
heaved  up  vertically. 

"John  Henry,  if  you  think  I'm  going 
to  light  that  gas  you're  mistaken." 

Dobbett  reached  for  a  match,  a  drab 
little  man  in  a  drab  little  night-shirt. 

"No,  my  dear.  I'll  light  it."  Then 
he  chuckled  under  his  breath.  "Just 
to  think  of  your  doing  it." 


Fortunes  Overnight 

;  Continued  from  page  li41. 

at  once  formed  and  placed  stock  on  the 
market,  but  when  it  was  learned  that 
the  strike  was  apparently  a  pocket  and 
that  no  "gusher"  has  been  tapped, 
agitation  subsided  and  finally  again 
became  normal. 

Meanwhile,  all  winter,  the  Dis- 
covery Well  sank  quietly  deeper  and 
deeper.  The  rate  was  about  twenty 
or  twenty-five  feet  a  day  with  frequent 
stoppages  to  bail  out  the  mud  and  oil. 
On  Thursday,  the  fourteenth  of  May, 
when  at  a  depth  of  2,718  feet,  the  bore 
penetrated  a  small  gusher  which  threw 
oil  some  sixty  or  seventy  feet  into  the 
air  and  deluged  everybody  and  every- 
thing within  striking  distance.  White 
oil  testing  65%  Baume  very  much  the 
same  character  as  that  found  in  October 
rapidly  filled  the  well  until  there  was 
measured  2,000  feet  in  the  ten  inch 
bore  with  a  heavy  escape  of  gas  esti- 
mated at  two  million  feet  every  twenty- 
four  hours.  During  that  and  the  fol- 
lowing day  the  well  gushed  several 
times.  Every  available  receptacle  was 
filled  to  overflowing  and  still  the  oil 
rose  in  the  well,  and  as  it  was  unneces- 
sary and  impossible  to  bore  further 
under  existing  conditions,  the  well  was 
capped.  Such  a  pressure  is  continuing 
from  the  escaping  gas  however,  that  it 
is  found  necessary  to  relieve  it  by  open- 
ing the  pipes  whenever  the  pressure 
reaches  400  pounds,  and  as  this  is 
frequent,  a  man  is  stationed  there  day 
and  night  for  this  purpose.  It  is 
impossible  correctly  to  'estimate  the 
daily  production  but  it  is  stated  by 
those  in  authority  that  it  will  not  be 
less  than  two  hundred  pounds  per  day. 
The  present  output  has  been  bought 
up  by  a  local  firm  at  the  price  of  nine- 
teen cents  per  gallon  at  the  well's 
mouth. 

Calgary  went  quietly  to  bed  on  the 
evening  of  the  day  before,  apathetically 
and  with  business  dull;  she  awoke  in 
the  morning  with  a  start  to  hear  the 
newsies  screaming  the  "strike,"  and 
business  booming.  Then  she  promptly 
went  crazy.     Oil  !     Oil  !     Oil  !       No- 


ll 11  [1  II  II 


SEAL 
BRANTD 

COFFEE 

Often  Imitated 
Seldom  Equaled 
Never  Surpassed 

Packed  in  one  and^two 
pound  tins  only. 

CHASE  &  SANBORN 

MONTREAL 

(mi]  mi 


body  thought  or  talked  of  anything 
but  oil  unless  it  were  oil  leases.  All 
other  business  was  absolutely  at  a 
standstill.  The  City  Hall  was  aband- 
oned ;  public  buildings  emptied ;  shops 
deserted.  Cooks  left  the  kitchens; 
maids  the  tables;  clerks  their  offices. 
All  flocked  to  the  streets  and  hotel 
lobbies.  Promoters  quick  to  take 
advantage  of  their  opportunity  prompt- 
ly opened  offices  and  did  a  roaring 
business  selling  stocks.  Stocks  at  five, 
ten,  fifteen,  twenty,  fifty  cents  and  a 
dollar  went  like  hot  cakes  with  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


303 


public  a  seething,  clamoring,  hungry 
mob,  calling  "more  and  more"  and 
struggling  to  "get  in"  in  time.  The 
issue  of  certificates  was  an  impossi- 
bility ;  they  were  neither  ready  nor  was 
there  time  to  fill  them  out;  all  the 
public  asked  was  to  have  their  money 
accepted  and  be  given  some  kind  of  a 
receipt,  and  the  promoters  were  gra- 
ciously willing  to  meet  them  more  than 
half  way.  There  are  but  few  occasions 
in  life  when  the  public  deliberately 
and  insistently  clamors  to  be  relieved 
of  its  hard  earned  gold,  but  this  was 
one  such  occasion.  Every  real  estate 
office  in  town  became  an  oil  agency, 
and  every  agency  an  oil  exchange  or 
brokerage.  Curbstoners  did  a  flourish- 
ing business  until  put  out  of  commis- 
sion by  over-night  made  municipal 
laws,  when  they  simply  moved  to 
hotel  lobbies.  Depositors  rushed  the 
banks  at  opening,  drawing  out  savings 
which  were  promptly  re-deposited  in 
bulk  by  the  oil  manipulators  at  closing 
hour.  Thousands  of  dollars  changed 
hands  and  then  changed  hands  again. 
Soon  the  news  spread  abroad  and 
incoming  trains  were  crowded  to  capa- 
city. Money  flowed  in  from  Vancouver, 
Winnipeg,  Toronto  and  Montreal,  and 
telegrams  and  cables  kept  a  big  staff 
of  operators  working  day  and  night. 
16,000  telegrams  was  the  record  at  the 
local  office  in  two  days'  time. 

All  hotels  were  filled ;  all  automobiles 
busy.  Before  the  "strike"  some  700 
motors  were  registered  on  the  city 
books ;  a  few  days  after  it,  the  registra- 
tion jumped  to  1,600  with  a  strong 
demand  for  more  cars  which  dealers 
were  unable  to  supply.  Holes  in  the 
wall  rented  for  unheard  of  rents,  and 
bootblack  parlors  and  shop  fronts  in 
desirable  locations  were  in  strong 
demand.  Restaurants  did  the  business 
of  a  metropolis  while  printers  worked 
twenty-four  hours  a  day  to  produce 
the  desirable  certificate.  Sign  painters 
saw  riches  knocking  at  their  doors  and 
newspapers  refused  advertising  for 
lack  of  space,  then  increased  the  size 
of  their  publications  to  take  in  all 
advertisers. 

Between  eighty  and  ninety  com- 
panies have  been  formed  with  a  total 
capitalization  of  one  hundred  million. 
Some  fifteen  of  these  have  drilling  out- 
fits at  work  in  an  area  extending  100 
miles  north  and  south  of  Calgary,  one 
of  them  already  down  2,500  feet,  four 
of  them  over  1,000  feet  and  the  balance 
at  varying  depths.  In  the  vicinity  of 
Olds,  forty  miles  north  of  the  city,  the 
Monarch  Company,  approximates  800 
feet,  while  at  Okotoks,  twenty  miles 
south,  "Discovery"  rests  on  its  laurels, 
with  ,  Black  Diamond,  United  Oils, 
Western  Pacific  and  others  feverishly 
digging. 

This  work  of  exploration  when  taken 
into  consideration  with  the  first  dis- 


Oily  skin  and 
W7        shiny  nose 


)\ 


How  to  correct  them 

That  bugbear  of  so  many 
women — an  oily  skin  and 
shiny  nose — has  various  con- 
tributory causes. 

Whatever  the  cause  in  your 
case,  proper  external  treat- 
ment will  relieve  your  skin 
of  this  embarrassing  condition. 


Begin  this  treatment    tonight 


With  warm  water  work  up  a  heavy 
lather  of  Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  in 
your  hands.  Apply  it  to  your  face 
and  rub  it  into  the  pores  thoroughly — 
always  with  an  upward  and  outward 
motion.  Rinse  with  warm  water, 
then  with  cold — the  colder  the  better. 
If  possible,  rub  your  face  for  a  few 
minutes  with  a  piece  of  ice. 

This  treatment  will  make  your  skin 
fresher  and  clearer  the  first  time  you 


use  it.  Make  it  a  nightly  habit  and 
before  long  you  will  see  a  decided  im- 
provement— a  promise  of  that  lovelier 
complexion  which  the  steady  use  of 
Woodbury's  always  brings. 

Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  costs  25c 
a  cake.  No  one  hesitates  at  the  price 
after  their  first  cake.  Tear  off  the 
illustration  of  the  cake  shown  below 
and  put  it  in  your  purse  as  a  reminder 
to  get  Woodbury's  today  and  try  this 
treatment. 


Woodbury's  Facial  Soap 


For  sale  hy  Canadian  drugaisls  from  coast  to  coast, 
including  Ntu'/aundland. 

Write    today    t"    the    Canadian 
Woodbury  Factory  for  samples 

For  4c  ue  ilH/  scnj  a  sample  cake.  For  10c, 
samples  of  Woodbury  s  Facial  Soap,  Facial 
Cream   and  Poivder. 

Address  The  Andrew  Jergens  Co.,  Ltd., 
Depl.lll-S  Perl/i,  Ontario. 


covery  of  oil  and  reports  from  experi- 
enced engineers  like  Cunningham 
Craig,  B.  W.  Dunn  and  others,  give 
justification  to  the  expectation  that 
commercial  oil  fields  will  be  develop>ed 
to  add  to  the  already  great  coal  and 
natural  gas  resources  found  through- 
out the  Province  of  Alberta. 

The  new  Canadian  Pacific  railway 
Hotel  Palliscr,  which  was  nearing 
completion,  opened  its  doors  to  over  a 
hundred  waiting  patrons  who  rushed 
in  and  registered  eagerly.       Business 


was  stimulated ;  enterprise  encouraged. 
What  the  outcome  will  be  time  only 
can  tell,  but  the  natural  optimism  of 
the  Westerner  is  ever  to  the  fore,  and 
Calgarians  are  confident  that  the 
precious  fluid  will  be  discovered  in  its 
crude  state.  Certain  it  is  that  the 
city  of  Calgary  and  the  Province  of 
Alberta  has  benefitted  up  to  the  pre- 
sent, through  increased  population 
and    the    influx    of    money. 

Mineral  and   oil   rights    (oil   comes 
under  mineral)  are  the  property  of  the 


304 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

CLEAN— No    dust  or  flying  ashes.    Ash 
chutes  guide  all  ashes  into  convenient  pan. 

Wdar/i 

Sunshine 

'MT^  No     ash     shovrjlling 

J! HI*Hd.CC  necessary.      See    the 
McClary  dealer  or  write  for  booklet.         33 


A  Father's  Soliloquy - 

No.  4. 

My  Best  Investment 

"Life  has   been   a   pretty   strenuous   game  all   through 
for  me.     Winning  one  day — losing  the  next,  but  on  the 
whole,  bettering  my  position  all  the  time. 
Some  of  my  ventures  were  positively  silly,  but  I  didn't 
know  that  at  the  time  they  were  made.     Others  were 
wiser  moves  than  I  knew,  and  the  wisest  of  all  were 
my  investments  in  London  Life  Policies. 
Those  which  have  matured  have  surprised  me  greatly: 
The    profits    amount    to    considerably    more    than    the 
Company   promised.     How  easy   it   would   be   to   write 
business    for    The    London    Life — if    the    public    only 
knew!" 
The   London  Life   Insurance   Company   is   one   of  the   financial 
world's  stablest  and  most  dependable  concerns.     Its  methods  are 
amazingly    effective    as    well    as    economical     A    London    Life 
Policy,  judged  purely  and  simply  as  an  investment,  is  just  as 
"Good  as  Gold." 

Write    for    particulars!      This    places    you 
under  no  obligation. 

The  London  Life 

Insurance  Company 

LONDON  -  CANADA 

mm 


crown  except  in  the  case  of  the  Can- 
adian Pacific  Railway  (the  largest 
individual  land  owners  in  the  west) 
and  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company.  If 
you  purchase  land,  city  or  farm,  from 
the  government,  Canadian  Pacific  Rail- 
way, or  Hudson  Bay  Company,  you 
secure  surface  rights  only,  the  crown 
reserving  for  separate  sale  the  mineral 
rights.  Any  adult  can  acquire  a 
mineral  right  on  any  piece  of  land  if  it 
is  not  already  sold,  by  applying  for  it 
to  the  local  land  office  and  paying  a 
filing  fee  of  five  dollars  and  a  rental  of 
twenty-five  cents  an  acre  for  the  first 
year  and  fifty  cents  the  second  and 
ensuing  ones.  When,  however,  such  per- 
manent work  as  drilling  etc.,  is  being 
prosecuted  on  the  land,  the  govern- 
ment encourages  exploitation  by  remit- 
ting the  rental. 

Each  applicant  is  entitled  to  file  on 
four  sections  of  government  land  and 
one  section  of  school  land. 

When  a  homesteader  complies  with 
the  regulations  he  obtains  a  patent  to 
his  land,  which  as  above  explained, 
covers  surface  rights  only,  and  any 
one  can  secure  the  mineral  rights  on 
his  homestead  (provided  it  is  not  al- 
r.;ady  filed  on)  by  paying  the  pro- 
claimed fee.  The  holder  of  that 
mineral  right  however,  cannot  go  on 
to  that  land  and  execute  his  right 
until  he  has  entered  into  an  agreement 
with  the  owner  of  the  surface  rights, 
on  whose  land  he  would  otherwise  be 
trespassing,  and  many  disputes  have 
occurred  and  are  occurring  in  this  con- 
nection. It  is  certainly  not  agreeable 
to  the  homesteader  or  farmer  to  find 
a  big,  unsightly  derrick  erected  in  the 
middle  of  his  vegetable  garden  or  farm 
yard  over-night,  nor  is  it  just  or  right 
that  it  should  be.  In  cases  where  the 
owner  of  the  surface  rights  and  the 
holder  of  mineral  rights  cannot  agree, 
the  courts  are  at  hand  to  setttle  dis- 
putes. 

Crude  petroleum  produced  in  Can- 
ada during  the  past  year,  according  to 
the  Department  of  Mines  (Division  of 
Mineral  Resources  and  Statistics) 
amounted  to  228,080  barrels  or  7,982, 
798  gallons  confined  to  old  established 
Ontario  fields  with  a  few  barrels  from 
the  New  Brunswick  wells. 

The  British  Columbia  division  of 
the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway  use  oil 
in  their  locomotives  and  Pacific  Coast 
steamers,  while  the  extensive  use  of 
automobiles  all  over  Canada  and 
traction  engines  in  the  west,  cause  an 
increasing  demand.  During  the  past 
year,  the  total  importations  of  oil 
amounted  to  222,779,293  gallons  val- 
ued at  $13,230,429.  Many  pounds  of 
other  petroleum  products,  candles  and 
wax,  were  also  imported;  in  fact,  in 
1913  there  was  an  increased  importa- 
tion of  all  classes  of  oil  with  exception 
of  gasoline. 


VOL.  XVI. 
NO.  5 


■QQgpJi 


CANADA 
MONTHLY 


LONDON 
SEPT. 
s 


Canada  and  the  Empire 

/  desire  to  express  to  my  people  of  the  Overseas  Dominions  with  what  appreciation  and  pride  I  have 
received  the  messages  from  their  respective  governments .  .  .  /  shall  be  strengthened  in  the  discharge  of 
the  great  responsibility  which  rests  upon  me  by  the  confident  belief  that  in  this  time  of  trial  my  Empire  will 
stand  united,  calm,  resolute,  trusting  in  God. — King  George's  Message  to  Canada. 


The  Motherland  is  confronting  a  necessity  of 
national  existence.  We  come  to  her  aid  in  determi- 
nation to  ensure  the  safety  of  this  Empire  and  to 
defend  our  flag,  our  honor  and  our  heritage. 


I  have  often  declared  that  if  the  Mother  Country 
were  ever  in  danger,  or  if  danger  even  threatened, 
Canada  would  render  assistance  to  the  full  extent 
of  her  power. 


CAMJ^vi   , 


/£uft^^ '^^^^^^'^^^^^'^^ 


Britain's  Word  is  Britain's  Word 


IT'S  the  real  thing,  this  time. 
To  the  last  hour,  the  British 
Empire  set  its  face  against  this 
war.  To  the  last  hour,  Britain 
strove  to  keep  the  peace.  When  other 
nations  trampled  their  treaties  under 
foot  and  broke  their  sworn  promises — 
when  rulers  stripped  the  scabbard  of 
civilization  off  the  sword  of  war-^ 
when  the  day  dawned,  flaming  red, 
over  Europe,  "The  Day"  that  Ger- 
man officers  have  toasted  for  years, 
■•England  stood  for  peace,  if  peace 
might  be  kept  with  honor. 

On  that  memorable  Tuesday  night, 
Trafalgar  Square,  fluttering  with  the 
( olors,  aflame  with  loyalty,  waited  for 
the  answer. 

Then — the  drums  ! 

For  Britain's  word  is  Britain's  word, 
;uid  though  other  nations  may  make 
and  break  their  promises  lightly,  Bri- 
tain's word,  once  given,  must  stand. 
The  E^mpire  seeks  neither  port  nor 
lands,  flies  'at  the  throat  of  no  here- 
ditary enemy,  revenges  itself  for  no 
long-treasure<l  grudge.  The  war  is  a 
war  of  the  P^mpire's  honor,  and  Can- 
ada stands  with  the  Empire  to  the 
last  man,  the  last  dollar  and  the  last 
loaf  of  bread. 

And  it's  the  real  thing,  this  time. 

No  longer  are  our  sons  and  brothers 
only  the  lads  we  have  known.  They 
are  soldiers  of  the  King.     The  message 

CuPyriihl,  1914, 


comes  for  Neil  to  join  his  regiment 
in  Winnipeg — our  Neil,  who  was  going 
to  settle  down  and  peacefully  practice 
himself  into  a  family  physician  one 
of  these  days.  All  along  the  quiet, 
tree-shaded  street  the  young  men  are 
turning  out,  the  old  service  men  are 
drilling  the  recruits,  the  women  go 
about  with  set  faces. 

Few  of  us  have  with  our  own  eyes 
seen  a  field  of  battle.  But  we  have 
heard  about  it,  and  we  have  read  in 
books  what  a  battlefield  looked  like 
in  South  Africa,  and  as  though  with 
our  own  eyes  we  have  watched  the 
shrapnel  whirl  and  burst,  tearing 
human  bodies  to  pieces.  Compara- 
tively speaking.  South  Africa  was  an 
afTair  of  out-posts,  guerilla-work.  But 
now,  in  this  war  of  race  against  race, 
of  Teuton  against  Gaul,  we  have  seen 
the  pictures  of  the  German  ordnance; 
of  the  deadly-accurate  French  Turcos, 
we  have  read  of  the  line  of  battle  two 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  long,  millions 
of  men  lying  face  to  face  out  in  the 
turnip-fields  of  Belgium,  in  the  tramp- 
led grass  of  Alsace-Lorraine,  waiting 
the  brazen-throated  bugle's  Charge'. 

Somehow,  the  business  of  life,  the 
routine  of  the  office,  must  go  on.  We 
come  in  from  the  street,  with  its  flaring 
bulletins.  The  morning's  mail  lies  as 
the  postman  tossed  it  on  the  desk, 
unsorted,    unopened.      Yesterday,    it 

bylhr  VANDERIIOOF-GUNN  COMPAN  Y.  LTD.    AU 


was  one  of  the  vital  things  in  life. 
But  to-day  somehow  it  doesn't  seem 
so  important  whether  they've  given  that 
contract  to  us  or  to  Competitor 
&  Co. 

This  won't  do.  We  start  opening 
the  envelopes.  Half-way  through  the 
pile,  the  letters  drop  of  themselves 
from  our  hands,  without  having  left  a 
single  impression  on  our  brain.  We 
sit  at  our  desk,  idle,  mechanically 
turning  over  the  cigars  in  the  accus- 
tomed box,  absently  judging,  selecting. 
This  one  is  an  even  brown,  well-rolled. 
Those  poor  devils  out  in  the  trenches  ! 
As  if  he  were  within  a  hand-breadth, 
we  see  a  young  soldier  lighting  his 
cigarette  from  a  comrade's  match. 
The  lean  brown  face  looks  up  towards 
us,  the  lips  move  in  a  gay  jest,  the 
hand  tosses  away  the  stub  of  the  care- 
fully treasured  match  in  a  familiar 
gesture.  .  .  But  there  is  a  look  in 
his  eyes.  .  .  a  look  ....  and 
we  leave  our  cigar  in  the  box. 

An  enemy,  that  lad.  Neil  has  gone  to 
fighthim.  Anenemy.  What  is  an  enemy.'' 

Listen  to  the  words  of  a  German, 
written  long  before  this  day  of  war. 
The  German  go\ernmcnt  suppressed 
his  story,  bccau.se  it  made  people 
think.  Yet  it  crept  into  print  in  spite 
of  the  all-powerful  kaiser,  and  in- 
stantly had  a  circulation  of  100,000  in 
Germany  among  the  \(t\   people  that 

rights  rtstrvtd.  313 


314 


CANAIM  MONTHLY 


to-day  arc  on  the  French  frontier  with 
guns  in  their  hands. 

"Again  I  see  myself  on  that  glorious  morn- 
ing of  my  holidays,  at  a  railway  station,  and 
again  1  am  gazing  curiously  out  of  the  window. 
A  foreign  country,  and  a  stranger  people.  It 
is  France — Nancy.  The  moment  for  depar- 
ture has  come.  The  station  master  is  just 
giving  the  signal.  Then  a  little  old  woman 
extends  her  trembling  hand  to  the  window 
and  a  fine  young  fellow  in  our  carriage  takes 
the  wrinkled  hand  and  strokes  it  until  the  old 
woman's  tears  course  down  her  motherly 
cheeks.  Not  a  word  does  she  speak.  She 
only  looks  at  her  boy  and  the  lad  gazes  down 
at  his  mother.  Then  it  flashes  upon  me  like 
a  revelation.  Foreigners  can  shed  tears. 
Why,  that  is  just  the  same  thing  as  it  is  with 
us.  They  weep  when  they  take  leave  of  one 
another.  They  love  one  another,  and  feel 
grief.  .  .  .  And  as  the  train  rolled  out  of 
the  station  I  kept  on  looking  out  of  the  window 
and  seeing  the  old  woman  standing  on  the 
platform,  so  desolately  gazing  after  the  train, 
without  stirring.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of 
my  own  mother.  It  was  I  myself  who  was 
saying  good-bye  there,  and  on  the  platform 
yonder  my  poor  old 
Pocket  handkerchiefs 
breeze.  I  waved  mine, 
who  belonged  to  her." 

The  man  who  wrote  that  is  perhaps 
to-day  out  with  the  Uhlans,  and  if  he 
chances  to  face  the  soldier-lad  of 
Nancy,  he  must  make  the  old  mother 
childless  if  he  can. 


mother  was  in  tears. 
were  iloating  in  the 
too,  for  I,  too,  was  one 


An  enemy  !  How  many  sore  hearts 
in  Ciermany  to-night  feel  about  their 
lads  as  Neil's  mother  feels  about  Neil  ? 
How  many  in  France  ?  How  many 
in  veiled  and  mysterious  Russia  ?  In 
how  many  peasant  kitchens  does  the 
mother  stand  staring  at  the  smoky 
wall,  forgetting  to  stir  the  soup,  now 
that  Karl  or  Jean  or  Ivan  has  gone  to 
war  ?  What  does  old  'Poleon  Bel- 
coeur  think  about,  standing  at  the 
door  of  the  little  shop  that  young 
'Poleon  was  making  do  so  well — the 
little  shop  so  pitifully  empty  of 
customers  now  ? 

It  is  not  a  volkskrieg,  this  war,  they 
say  in  Germany.  There  is  nothing 
about  it  to  bring  the  Bavarian  farmer 
shouting  from  his  plow  and  the 
Bohemian  blacksmith  from  his  forge. 
Somewhere,  far  above  their  heads,  in 
Berlin,  in  Vienna,  the  makers  of  war 
lean  together  over  the  maps,  the  grim 
and  wrinkled  faces  weigh  advantage 
against  advantage,  the  Word  goes  out, 
the  yellow  notices  flutter  through  the 
streets,  calling  the  men  to  the  colors. 

Somehow  we  do  not  realize  that 
these  people  are  alive  and  have  no 
quarrel  with  England,  except  as  the 
war    lords    bid    them    fight    and    die. 


Jraiicf  is  wij<iiig  (jui  <iii  din  iLiit  wrong, 
and  from  Normandy  to  the  Midi  then- 
is  not  a  man  holding  back.  The  little 
Montreal  waitress,  serving  our  coffee 
and  eggs  this  morning,  whispered 
"Vive  la  France"  over  our  shoulder  as 
she  set  down  the  toast.  Canada  is  a 
solid  mass  behind  the  flag.  All  we 
feel  is  that  Britain's  word  is  Britain's 
word.  We  must  fight  for  the  honor 
of  the  Empire — fight  to  win. 

Men  have  already  been  shot  down 
for  interference  with  our  own  Canadian 
wireless  stations  and  railways.  The 
Grenadiers  have  been  told  off  to  guard 
the  aerials  that  bring  news  out  of  the 
sky,  and  there  is  much  laughter  over 
the  prospect  of  their  sharing  meals 
with  the  nurses  at  the  hospital,  the 
Queen's  Own  displaying  elaborate 
jealousy.  Winnipeg  packs  Carlton 
Street  to  the  car-tracks,  singing,  and 
when  the  Ninetieth — "the  little  black 
devils" — march  by  to  the  rollicking 
tune  of  "Solomon  Levi,"  Winnipeg 
goes  absolutely  mad  with  joy.  Val- 
cartier  is  a  humming  hive. 

Loyal  to  the  backbone, Canada  stands 
behind  the  flag.  And  it's  the  real  thing, 
this  time.  There's  no  half-measure. 
Britain's   word   is   Britain's  word. 


What  the  Little  Grey  Lady  Saw 


SHE  was  a  little  grey  lady  with  a 
white  silk  shawl  over  her  shoul- 
ders. Never  before  in  her  well- 
ordered  life  had  she  appeared 
down  town  gloveless  and  without  a  hat. 

But  nobody  noticed  her. 

Her  eyes  were  raised  to  the  big 
circle  of  light,  mid-height  of  the  de- 
partment store  on  the  other  side  of  the 
street  where  the  scrawled  bulletins  of 
the  tired  pressman  etched  themselves 
on  the  white  sheet,  one  after  the  other. 
The  first  night  of  the  grey  lady's 
watch,  the  printing  had  been  draughts- 
manlike. Now,  packed  streetful,  curb 
to  curb,  who  cared? 

For  it  wasn't  baseball  that  the  quick 
sentences  talked  out.  And  it  wasn't 
elections.  It  was  War.  And  the  grey 
lady's  youngest  son  had  volunteered. 

Up  at  the  Armouries  where  the 
other  end  of  the  big  crowd  made  its 
headquarters,  there  was  music.  Last 
week,  the  phonograph  across  the  street 
had  tinkled  about  the  girl  in  the  heart 
of  Maryland.  Now  the  regimental 
Band  thundered  "O  Canada,"  crashed 
through  "The  British  Grenadiers"  and 
hit  the  top  lights  with  the  high  notes 
of  "Rule  Britannia." 

In  the  centre,  between  bandplaying 
the  recruits  drilled,  not  in  the  flashing 
scarlet     or    the    trim    blue    of     their 


By  Betty  D.  Thornley 

parade  uniforms,  but  in  earth-colored 
khaki  as  became  men  who  were  now 
on  the  dollar-a-day-and-ten-cents-al- 
lowance  granted  to  His  Majesty's 
troops  in  Wartime. 

As  the  officer  commanding  barked 
the  orders,  the  files  wheeled  and 
turned  and  pivoted.  They  didn't  do 
it  with  the  dizzying,  playtoy  regularity 
of  the  show  regiment,  marching  before 
cheering,  peanut-eating  crowds  at  an 
Exhibition.  They  were  so  new  to 
their  rifles,  their  uniforms,  their  or- 
ders, these  clear-eyed  boys,  that  they 
brought  the  tears  smarting  to  your  eyes. 

The  drill  came  to  an  end,  and  the 
crowd  moved  about  during  the  band- 
playing.  A  girl  with  a  blue  crepe  blouse 
and  a  fifteen-cent  pearl  chain  walked 
arm  in  arm  with  a  curly  headed  vol- 
unteer. ShQ  chewed  gum  with  the 
regularity  of  last  week's  carefreeness. 
But  she  carried  his  service  cap  in  both 
hands.     And  she  wasn't  smiling. 

A  little  old  man  stood  so  close  to  the 
band  that  his  gesticulating  arms  al- 
most touched  the  tall  leader.  Last 
week  he  would  have  been  laughed  at. 
Now  someone  whispered,  "He's  a 
veteran!"  and  eyes  kindled  as  they 
looked  at  him. 

When  the  time  came  to  repeat  the 
"Rule  Britannia"  that  finished  every 


playing,  the  draggle-skirted  Liver- 
pooler  with  the  two  babies  raised  her 
voice,  cracked  but  triumphant.  The 
youngster  at  her  skirts  stared  wide- 
eyed,  the  tow-head  in  arms  hid  her 
pink  bows  against  her  mother's  neck. 
But  the  woman  caught  the  little  hands 
and  raised  them  in  her  own  as  she  kept 
time. 

"Her  father  was  a  soldier,"  said  the 
crowd. 

And  then,  all  at  once,  the  girl  in  the 
corner  who  had  come  to  watch,  to 
write,  and  to  analyze,  felt  herself 
caught  into  the  circle  with  the  rest  of 
them.  It  wasn't  the  Liverpooler,  nor 
the  poor  whiskey-brave  veteran.  It 
wasn't  the  gum-chewer  with  the  service 
cap.  It  wasn't  even  the  elemental 
urge  of  the  music,  tom-tom-ed  soul- 
deep  by  the  crashing  drum. 

It  was  just  an  Idea,  a  stupendous, 
all-levelling  Idea. 

Once  before  it  had  swung  insolently 
down  the  routes  of  trade  as  a  red- 
marked  map  on  a  postage  stamp,  and 
once  it  had  flamed,  solemn  as  doom, 
in  Kipling's  Recessional — the  dream 
of  Empire,  the  thought  that  God  had 
planned  and  put  us  there,  and  that  we 
had  a  Trust. 

This  was  no  War  of  aggression,  the 
chastisement  of  lesser  folk,  as  many 


TOO  OLl>   TO   (AJ 


115 


316 

had  felt  the  B«x'r  trouble  to  be.  Tliis 
was  a  mighty  Empire— the  vastest 
that  has  been — marching  mayhap  to 
coming  doom,  head  up. 
'  And  we,  from  the  Mackenzie  to  the 
Line,  from  Vancouver  to  Halifax, 
Grit,  Tory,  Protestant,  Catholic,  Hin- 
doo immigrant,  Liverpool  dock-rat, 
Glasgow  bum,  Toronto  millionaire — 
we  were  in  it  ! 
^    When  the  Sunday  stillness  of  August 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

second  was  broken  by  the  little  news- 
boys shrilling  extras  in  the  hot  Can- 
adian streets,  something  was  dropped 
into  the  cauldron  (jf  public  life  that 
changed   Dominion  history. 

Only  the  day  before  the  papers  had 
carried  echoes  from  the  last  session 
of  Parliament,  echoes  of  the  navy 
squabble  and  the  patriotic  philippics — 
or  quick-lunch  grand-standing,  as  you 
chanced  to  look  at  it — heard  when  the 


member  for  Calgary  ran  amuck  anent 
the  C.  N.  R. 

Ontario  and  Quebec  wouldn't  eat 
from  the  same  saucer  if  you  mentioned 
Bilingual  Schools.  The  Orange  Senti- 
nel and  the  Catholic  Record  trans- 
planted the  Irish  question  to  Canadian 
soil,  where  it  flourished  like  a  tiger 
lily.  And  Vancouver  threatened  to 
come  to  blows  with  Ottawa  if  the 
Continued  on  page  367. 


Gentleman  Born 


WHEREIN  CAROLINE  UNCONSCIOUSLY  PLAYS 

A  TRICK  ON  FATE  AND  BRINGS  A 

CHILD  TO  AN  EMPTY  HOUSE 

By  Josephine  Daskam  Bacon 

Illustrated  by  B.  J.  Rosenmeyer 


c 


■■i  i.l  tell  him,    caro- 
line said, "but  i'm  sure 
he"ll  keep  it.     it's  a 
lovely  baby" 


AROLINE  sniffed  her  way  lux- 
uriously through  the  dusky 
paneled  library. 

"I  think  it  smells  awfully 
good  here,  don't  you  ?"  she  inquired 
of  her  hostess. 

The  lady's  ■wonderful  velvet  train 
dragged  listlessly  behind  her.  Her 
neck  and  arms  were  dressed  in  heavy, 
yellowish  lace,  but  ail  around  her  slim 
body  waves  of  deep-colored,  soft  velvet 
held  the  light  in  lustrous  pools,  or 
darkened  into  almost  shadows.  It  was 
like  stained  glass  in  a  church,  thought 
Caroline,  stroking  it  surreptitiously, 
and  like  stained  glass,  too,  were  the 
lovely  books,  bloody  red,  grassy  green, 
and  brown  like  autumn  woods  with 
edges  of  gold  when  the  sunlight  struck 
them.  They  made  the  walls  like  a  great 
jeweled  cabinet,  lined  from  floor  to 
ceiling;  here  and  there  a  niche  of  pol- 
ished wood  held  a  white,  clear-cut 
head.  From  the  ceiling  great  opal- 
tinted  globes  swung  on  dull  brass 
chains;  they  swayed  ever  so  slightly 
when  one  watched  them  closely. 

"This is  my  favorite  room.  Duchess," 
said  Caroline;  "isn't  it  yours  ?" 

"Do  you  really  think  I  look  like 
one  ?"    returned    the   lady;    "the  only 


Duchess  I  ever  saw  was  fat — 
horribly  fat.  It  is  a  very  hand- 
some library,  of  course." 

"Then  xhe  didn't  look  like  a 
duchess,  that's  all,"  Caroline  ex- 
plained. "What  I  like  about  this 
iibr'y  is,  it's  so  clean.  And  you 
can  pull  the  chairs  out  and  show 
those  big,'  shiny  yellow  ones  on  the  bot- 
tom shelf." 

"Of  course;  why  not  ?"  said  the 
Duchess,  dropping  into  a  great  carved 
chair  with  griffins'  heads  on  the  top. 

"Why,  you  can't  do  that  at  Uncle 
Joe's,"  Caroline  confided,  sitting  on  a 
small  grifhn  stool  at  the  lady's  feet, 
"because  General  gets  at  the  bottom 
row  and  smears  'em.  You  see  he's  only 
two,  and  you  can't  blame  him,  but  he 
licks  himself  dreadfully  and  then  rubs 
it  on  the  backs.  He  marks  them,  too, 
inside,  with  a  pencil  or  a  hat  pin,  or 
even  an  orange-wood  stick  that  you 
clean  your  nails  with.  Yours  is  made 
of  pearl,  you  know,  but  most — a  great 
many,  I  mean — people  have  them 
wood.  And,  so  the  chairs  have  to  be 
all  leaned  around  against  the  walls  to 
keep  him  from  the  books." 

The  Duchess  drew  a  long  breath. 
"And  your  uncle  objects  ?"  she  said 
between  her  teeth. 

"Uncle  Joe  says,"  Caroline  returned, 
patting  the  griffin  heads  on  her  little 
stool,  "that  if  Colonel  Roosevelt  had 
General  in  his  library  for  half  an  hour 
he'd  feel  different  about  race  suicide." 
The  Duchess  laughed  shortly. 
"That  is  possible,  too,"  she  agreed. 


"You  said  Cousin  Joe  was  well — and 
Edith  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  they're  well — I  mean, 
they're  very  well  indeed,  thank  you," 
said  Caroline.  "Uncle  Joe  says  they 
have  to  be,  with  the  General's  shoes 
two  dollars  and  a  half  a  pair  !  You 
see  he  has  quite  thick  soles,  now — he 
runs  about  everywhere.  Aunt  Edith 
says  he  needs  a  mounted  policeman 
'stead  of  a  nurse." 

"Did  Edith  get  rested  after  the 
moving  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  Caroline  answered,  ab- 
sently. She  was  watching  the  opal 
globes  sway.  "Aunt  Edith  says  before 
she  was  married  she'd  have  gone  south 
with  a  trained  nurse  after  such  an 
experience,  but  now  she  has  to  save 
the  nuise  for  measles,  she  s'poses,  so 
she  just  lies  down  after  lunch." 

The  Duchess  moved  restlessly  half 
out  of  the  griffin  chair,  but  sank  back 
again. 

"And  you  have  a  trained  nurse  all 
the  time,"  Caroline  mused,  stroking 
the  glistening  velvet;  "isn't  that 
funny  ?  Just  so  in  case  you  might  be 
sick.      .  ."    The  sunlight  peeped 

and  winked  on  the  gold  book-edges. 

"It  amounts  to  that,"  the  Duchess 
said,  adding,  very  low,  "but  she  is  not 
likely  to  be  needed  for  measles." 

"No,"  Caroline  assented,  "you  and 
Cousin  Richard  are  pretty  old  for 
measles.  It's  children  that  have  'em 
mostly.  I  never  did,  yet.  But  you 
don't  seem  to  ever  have  any  children. 
And    such    a    big    house,    too  !      And 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


317 


you're  very  fond  of  children,  aren't 
you  ?  It  seems  so  queer  that  when  you 
like  them  you  can't  manage  to  have 
any.  And  people  that  don't  care  about 
them  have  them  all  the  time.  It  was 
only  Christmas  time  that  Norah 
Mahoney — she  docs  the  extra  washing 
in  the  summer — had  another.  That 
makes  seven.  It's  a  boy.  Joseph 
Michael,  he's  named,  partly  after 
Uncle  Joe.  Norah  says  there  don't 
seem  to  be  any  end  to  your  troubles, 
once  you're  married  to  a  man." 

The  Duchess  turned  aside  her  head, 
but  Caroline  knew  from  the  comer  of 
her  mouth  that  her  eyes  were  full  of 
tears.  She  stroked  the  hands  that 
clenched  the  griffin's  crest. 

"Never  mind,"  she  urged,  "maybe 
you'll  have  some.  'Most  everybody 
has  just  one,  anyway." 

The  Duchess  shook  her  head  mutely; 
a  large,  round  tear  dropped  on  the 
griffin. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Caroline,  briskly, 
"why  don't  you  adopt  one  ?  The 
Weavers  did,  and  she  was  quite  a  nice 
girl ;  I  used  to  play  with  her.  She 
sucked  her  thumb,  though.  But 
prob'ly  they  don't,  all  of  them." 

"I  wouldn't  mind  if  she  did,"  the 
Duchess  declared.  Already  she  spoke 
more  brightly.  "I  wanted  to  adopt 
one — one  could  take  it  when  it  was 
very  little.  But  Richard  won't  hear 
of  it." 

"Notabit?"  Caroline  looked  worried: 
she  knew  Richard. 

"Not  a  bit,"  the  Duchess  repeated, 
"that  is,  he  says  he  is  willing  under 
certain  conditions,  but  they  are  simply 
impossible.  Nobody  could  find  such  a 
child." 

"There  are  lots  of  'em  in  the  Catholic 


Foundling,"  said 
Caroline,  thoughtful- 
ly, "all  kinds.  Aunt 
Edith  went  there  to 
sing  for  them  and 
she  took  Miss  Honey 
and  me.  They're  all 
dressed  differently 
and  they  look  so 
sweet.  You  can  take 
your  choice  of  them. 
Aunt  Edith  cried. 
But  you  must  let 
them  be  Catholics." 

"Richard  wouldn't 
let  me  take  one  from 
an  institution,"  the 
Duchess  said,  "and 
somehow  I  wouldn't 
care  to,  myself.  But 
there  is  a  woman  I 
know  of  who  is  in- 
terested in  children 
that  —  that  aren't 
likely  to  grow  up 
happily,  and  she  will 
get  one  for  anybody, 
only  one  can't  ask 
any  questions  about 
them.  You  may  have 
all  the  rights  in  them, 
but  you  will  never 
know  where  they 
came  from.  And 
Richard  won't  have 
that.     I  suppose  he's  right." 

"But  there  are  plenty  of  people  who 
would  let  you  have  one  if  you  would 
give  her  a  good  home  and  be  kind  to 
her,"  Caroline  began,  lapsing  for  the 
moment  into  her  confusing,  adult 
manner. 

"Yes,  but  Richard  says  that  no 
people  nice  enough  to  have  a  child  we 


THE  DUCMSSS  MAD  PORCOrtEN  CAROLINE.       ACAI.M  IIKK    rEARS  ROSE, 
BRIMMED  AND  OVERFLOWED 


'I    FEEL    THAT    IT    MURDERED    HER.       TAKE    IT   AWAY" 


could  want  would  ever  give  us  the 
child,  don't  you  see  ?"  the  Duchess 
interrupted  eagerly.  "He  says  the 
father  must  be  a  gentleman^ — and 
educated—  and  the  mother  a  good 
woman.  He  says  there  must  be  good 
blood  behind  it.  And  they  must  never 
see  it, "never  ask  about  it,  never  want  it. 
He  says  he  doesn't  see  how  I  could  bear 
to  have  a  child  that  any  other  mother 
had  ever  loved." 

Caroline  sighed. 

"Cousin  Richard  does  make  uji  his 
mind,  so  I"  she  muttered. 

"He  is  unreasonablp,"  said  the 
Duchess,  suddenly,  "unreasonabJe  ! 
He  must  know  all  about  the  child,  but 
the  parents  must  not  know  aliout  us  ! 
Not  know  our  name,  even  !  Just  give 
up  the  child  and  withdraw — why,  the 
poorest,  commonest  peojile  would  not 
do  that,  and  does  he  expect  that  people 
of  the  kind  he  requires  would  be  so 
heartless  ?  We  shall  never  be  able  to 
get  one — never.  And  yet  he  wants 
one  so — almost  as  much  as  I  !" 

The  Duchess  had  forgotten  Caroline. 
Staring  at  the  ojial  globes  she  sjit,  and 
again  the  tears  rose,  brimmetl  and 
overflowed . 

Caroline  slipped  off  the  little  stool 
and  walketi  softly  out  of  the  beautiful 
r(K)m.  The  Iwwks  glowed  jewel-like, 
the  four  milky  moons  swayed  c\'er  so 
little  on  their  brass  chains,  the  white 
busts  looktxl  coldly  at  the  I^uchess  as 
she  sat  crying  in  her  big  carved  chair. 


318 


(AN ADA  M(JXTHLV 


and  there  was  iiohods    iliai  could  IkIj) 
at  all. 

Through  the  tlark,  shiny  hails  she 
walked  cautiously,  for  she  had  had 
embarrassing  lessons  in  its  waxy 
polish — and  paused  from  foVce  of  habit 
to  pat  the  great  white  jjolar  bear  that 
made  the  little  reception  room  such  a 
delightful  place.    More  than  the  busts 


"Oh,  I  b'lieve  you.  Miss  Grundman, 
if  you  say  so,"  Caroline  assured  her, 
and  slid  carefully  along  the  hall  for 
the  stairs  that  led  to  her  hat  and  coat. 
They  spun  smoothly  down  the  ave- 
nue with  an  almost  imperceptible 
electric  whir,  Caroline  bolt  upright  on 
the  plum-colored  cushion,  Hunt  and 
Gleggson  bolt  upright  on  the  seat  out- 
side. It  was  a  mat- 
ter for  congratula- 
tion to  Caroline  that 
of  all  the  vehicles 
that  glided  by  them 
none  boasted  a  more 
upright  pair  than 
Hunt  and  Gleggson. 
The  tall,  brown 
houses  were  gradu- 
ally changing  into 
bright  shops;  the  car- 
riages grew  thicker 
and  thicker;  the  long 
procession  stopped 
and   waited   now   al- 


■■WHAT  HAVE  YOU  IN  YOUR  ARMS,  DEAR  ?"  SAID 
■'.VOT    A   DOC,    I    hope" 

in  the  library  even,  he  set  loose  the 
fancy,  and  wiled  one  away  to  the 
enchanted  North  where  the  Snow- 
Queen  drove  her  white  sled  through  the 
sparkling  glades,  and  the  Water  Baby 
dived  beneath  the  dipping  berg. 

Miss  Grundman,  the  trained  nurse, 
appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"Did  you  care  to  go  out  with  the 
brougham  to-day,  dear  ?"  she  asked; 
"Hunt  tells  me  he  has  to  go  'way  down 
town." 

"Yes,  I'd  like  to — can  you  take  care 
of  babies,  too  ?"  Caroline  returned, 
abruptly. 

Miss  Grundman  started. 

"What  an  odd  child  you  are — of 
course  I  can  !"  she  said.  "All  nurses 
can;  it's  part  of  the  training.  Have 
you  any  you're  worried  about  ?"  she 
added,  pointedly.     Caroline  flushed. 

"You're  making  fun  o'  me,"  she 
muttered;  "you  know  very  well  only 
grown  people  have  them  !  I  don't 
mean  if  they're  sick,  but  can  you  wash 
them,  and  cook  the  milk  in  that  tin 
thing,  and  everything  like  that  ?" 

"Bless  the  child,  of  course  I  can  !" 
Miss  Grundman  cried;  "you  bring  me 
one  and  I'll  show  vou  !" 


THE  DUCHESS. 


most  every  moment, 
so  crowded  was  the 
brilliant  street.  Once 
a  massive  policeman 
actually  smiled  at  her 
as  Hunt  stopped  the 
brougham  close  to 
him,  and  Caroline's 
admiring  soul  crowd- 
ed to  her  eyes  at 
the  mighty  wave  of 
his  white,  arresting 
hand.  They  drew  up 
before  a  great  window 
filled  with  broughams 
and  victorias  display- 
ed as  lavishly  as  if 
they  had  been  hats  or  bonbon  boxes — it 
was  like  a  gigantic  toyshop.  Hunt  drop- 
ped acrobatically  to  the  pavement  and 
was  seen  describing  his  mysterious  de- 
sires to  an  affable  gentleman  behind 
the  plate-glass;  he  measured  with  his 
knuckles  and  illustrated  in  pantomime 
the  snapping  of  something  over  his 
knees;  the  clerk  shook  his  head  in 
commiseration  and  signaled  to  an 
attendant,  who  darted  off.  Soon  Hunt 
appeared  with  a  small  package  and 
they  started  on  again,  turning  a  corner 
abruptly  and  winding  through  less 
exciting  streets. 

The  shops  grew  smaller  and  dingier; 
drays  passed  lumbering  by  and  street 
cars  jarred  along  beside  them,  but 
vehicles  like  their  own  were  noticeably 
lacking.  It  was  plain  that  they 
attracted  more  attention,  now,  and 
more  than  one  group  of  children  danc- 
ing in  the  street  to  the  music  of  the 
hurdy-gurdy  lingered  daringly  to  pro- 
voke the  thrilling,  mellow  warning  of 
their  horn.  At  last  they  stopped  at  a 
corner  and  Hunt  dropped  again  to  the 
pavement,  lingering  for  a  short  con- 
sultation with  Gleggson,  who  pointed 
once  or  twice  behind  them  to  the  small 


occupant  of  tlic  brougham,  (in  this 
occasion  he  took  with  him  a  mysterious 
and  powerful  handle,  and  Caroline 
knew  that  this  was  precisely  erjuivalent 
to  running  away  with  the  horses.  He 
hurried  around  an  unattractive  corner, 
and  Gleggson  sat  alone  in  front.  Five, 
ten  minutes  passed.  They  seemed  very 
dull  to  Caroline,  and  she  reached  for 
the  plum-colored  tube,  and  spoke 
boldy  through  it. 

"VV'hat  are  we  waiting  for,  please, 
Gleggson  ?    Where  is  Hunt  ?" 

"  'E  just  stepped  off.  Miss,  for  a 
minute,  like.  'E'll  be  'ere  directly. 
Would  you  wish  for  me  to  go  and  look 
'im  up.  Miss  ?" 

Gleggson  spoke  very  cordially. 

"We-ell,  I  don't  know,"  (Caroline 
said,  doubtfully.  "If  you  think  he'll 
be  right  back — I  can  wait " 

"Pre'aps  I'd  better,  as  you  say, 
Miss,"  Gleggson  continued,  "for  'e  'ax 
been  gone  sometime,  and  I  think  I 
could  lay  me  'and  on  'im.  You'll  not 
get  out,  of  course,  Miss,  and  I'll  be 
back  before  you  know  it." 

He  clambered  dowTi  and  took  the 
same  general  course  as  Hunt  had 
taken,  deflecting,  however,  to  enter  a 
little  door  made  like  a  window-blind, 
that  failed  to  reach  its  own  door-sill. 

"Hunt  didn't  go  there  at  all." 
Caroline  muttered,  resentfully,  and, 
deliberately  opening  the  door  of  the 
brougham,  she  stepped  out. 

She  had  followed  Hunt's  track  quite 
accurately  till  a  sudden  turn  confused 
her,  and  she  realized  that  after  that 
corner  she  had  no  idea  in  which  direc- 
tion he  had  gone.  She  paused  un- 
certainly: the  street  was  dirty,  the  few 
children  in  sight  were  playing  a  game 
unknown  to  her  and  not  playing  very 
pleasantly,  at  that;  the  women  who 
looked  at  her  seemed  more  curious  than 
kindly.  The  atmosphere  was  not 
sordid  enough  to  be  alarming  or  even 
interesting;  it  was  merely  slovenly  and 
distasteful,  and  Caroline  had  almost 
decided  to  go  back  when  a  young  girl 
stopped  by  her  and  eyed  her  inquisi- 
tively. 

"VVere  you  lookin'  foi  any  particular 
party  ?"  she  asked. 

"I  was  looking  for  Hunt,"  said  Caro- 
line;  "he  went  this  way,  I  think." 

"There's  some  Hunts  across  the 
street  there,"  the  girl  suggested,  "right- 
hand  flat,  second  floor.  I  seen  the 
name  once.  I  guess  you're  lost  all 
right,  ain't  you  ?" 

"Oh,  no,"  Caroline  assured  her, 
"I'm  not  lost.  I  can  go  right  back. 
I'll  see  if  Hunt's  there." 

The  threshold  was  greasy  and  worn, 
the  stairs  covered  with  faded  oilcloth, 
the  side  walls  defaced  and  over- 
scrawled.  At  the  head  of  the  stairs 
three  dingy  doors  opened  in  three 
different  directions,  and  a  soiled  card 
Continued  on  page  370. 


tWUIIIIIMIIIillllMMIIIIUIIWHUUIIIUIIIIMIUilliilUi. 


.iiiuiiiiwniuuiwiHiimiiuiMiiiiHuuiMnuiiiiuiiwiiiwiiiiiuwuiiMU^^ 


The  First  Lady  of  the  Yukon 


i 
i 


lUE  GOOD  SrORT 


SPEAKING  of  rapprochements, 
the  entente  cordiale,  or  even  of 
the  good,  old-fashioned  Saxon 
affair  of  friendly  understanding 
between  Canada  and  the  United 
States,  one  might  find  an  interesting 
sidelight  in  the  study  of  the  Empire 
Day  celebration  at  Dawson,  Yukon 
Icrritory,  last  May. 

The  address  of  the  evening  was 
made  by  Mrs.  George  Black,  who, 
since  she  is  Madam  Commissioner 
for  the  territory,  might  perhaps  well 
be  called  the  first  lady  of  the  Yukon. 
Yet  Mrs.  Black  was  not  born 
either  in  the  Yukf)n  or  anywhere  else 
in  Canada.  In  point  of  fact,  she  is 
an  American.  But  as  wife  of  the 
Commissioner,  she  spoke  with  enthus- 
iasm of  the  loyalty  due  to  the  British 
flag  and  the  debt  of  gratitude  which 
she  owed  to  her  adopted  country. 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  address,  she 
presented  prizes  offered  by  the  George 
M.   Dawson  Chapter  of  the  Imperial 


NOT  ONLY  A  GRACIOUS 
LADY,  BUT  A  GOOD  SPORTS- 
WOMAN AND  A  "SOUR- 
DOUGH" WHO  EARNED 
HER  RIGHT  TO  THE  TITLE 
ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  NINETY- 
EIGHT 


By  John  F.  Langan 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 


(Jrder  of  the  Daughters  of  the  Empire 
for  the  best  essays  written  on  the 
subject  of  "Patriotism."  And  noth- 
ing but  patriotism  could  be  ascribed 
to  the  Commissioner  for  Yukon  Terri- 
tory, who  himself  is  an  Ainerican  by 
birth;  but  loyal  to  the  Empire  in 
heart  and  soul. 

Mrs.  Black  is,  in  Yukon  parlance, 
a  "sour-dough,"  meaning  an  old  timer, 
or  pioneer.  She  went  to  Yukon  with 
her  brother,  George  M.  Munger,  Jr., 
in  the  great  stampede  of  gold  seekers 
in  1898.  In  those  days  the  old  timers 
and  newcomers,  or  tenderfeet,  were 
distinguished  by  the  respective  names 
of  "sour  dough"  and  "cheechako," 
the  former  arising  from  the  practice 
of  those  versed  in  camp  life  who  u.sed 
a  decoction  of  sour  dough  instead  of 
yeast  in  making  bread,  and  the  latter 
being  an  Indian  word  meaning  "stran- 
ger" or  "newcomer."  To  be  entitled 
to  the  name  of  "sour-dough,"  one 
must  have  spent  a  winter  in  the  terri- 
tory, have  seen  the  ice  form  in  the 
Yukon  river  in  the  fall,  and  run  out 
in  the  spring. 

It  was  before  the  days  of  the 
railroad  and  the  parlor  car  that 
this  interesting  Yukoner  made  her 
way  on  foot  across  the  Chilkoot  pass, 
then  teeming  with  struggling  thousands 
putting  forth  superhuman  effort  to 
convey  foods  from  the  .seaboard  inland 
to  the  lakes  at  the  head  of  the  great 
waterway  to  the  golden   Klondike. 

Narrowly  escaping  destruction  in 
the  great  snow  slide  that  buried 
numljcrs  of  unfortunates  on  the  pass, 
her  experiences  included  the  exhilara- 


THE  GRACIOUS  LADY 

liilllllllSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII 


iiiinin:ii 


tion  and  the  danger  of  running  Miles 
Canyon  and  the  Whitehorse  Rapids 
in  a  small  boat.  Many  outfits  and 
not  a  few  lives  were  lost  that  year  in 
those  treacherous  stretches  of  water, 
which  year  after  year  have  continued 
to  take  toll  of  the  lives  of  even  the 
most  experienced  boatmen.  In  ihc^e 
days,  travellers  to  Yukon  view  thci-e 
interesting  points  from  the  obser- 
vation cars  of  the  railroad  traversing 
the  pass  and  skirting  the  Yukon  river. 
Mrs.  Black  is  the  daughter  of  Mr. 
George  M.  Munger,  a  man  of  large 
means  and  for  some  time  president 
of  a  big  business  combination  in  the 
United  States.  His  daughter  inherits 
his  business  ability.  After  arriving 
in  the  Yukon  country  and  becom- 
ing a  unit  in  that  wild  population  of 
forty  thousand  souls  who  thronged 
the  banks  of  the  Yukon  at  the  mouth 
of  the  famous  Klondike  river,  she 
began  to  cast  about  for  something 
in  the  nature  of  a  career.     Possessed 


320 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A   GOOD  SNAPSHOT  OF  COMMISSIONER  GEORGE  BLACK,  TAKEN  BY  MRS.   BLACK  ON 
THEIR  LAST  YEAR'S  HUNTING  TRIP 


naturally  of  good  business  instinct, 
with  all  the  energy  of  a  man  and  better 
business  judgment  than  some  men 
showed,  she  undertook  one  or  two 
lumbering  and  mining  ventures,  par- 
tially financed  by  the  aid  of  her 
father.  At  one  time  she  ran  a  mill 
all  of  her  own,  and  had  to  fight  dis- 
gruntled labor  and  envious  competi- 
tion as  well.  In  this  venture  she 
was  successful.  But  yet  she  was  a 
woman,  and  in  1904  she  left  business 
to  marry  George  Black,  a  lawyer 
and  politician  of  Dawson,  leader  of 
the  Conservative  Opposition  to  the 
then  Liberal  government. 

The  government  of  Canada  main- 
tains an  official  residence  at  Dawson 
for  the  Commissioner  of  Yukon,  and 
since  Mrs.  Black  has  been  the  hostess 
there,  many  visitors  to  the  territory 
and  her  wide  circle  of  Yukon  friends 
have  been  welcomed  and  entertained 
there  most  charmingly  under  her  cap- 
able and  artistic  management,  the  place 
has  been  made  most  attractive,  and 
her  cheerful  and  gracious  manner 
has  won  popularity,  not  only  for  her- 
self, but  for  the  administration.  She 
is  an  active  worker  in  church  and 
charitable  undertakings.  Both  the  sen- 
ior and  junior  auxiliary  of  the  Church 
of  England  are  under  her  direct  pat- 
ronage, and  enjoy  the  privilege  of 
meeting  at  the  Residency. 

A  lover  of  out-of-door  life,  Mrs. 
Black  finds  time  to  accompany  her 
husband,  who  is  an  enthusiastic  hunter, 
on  many  trips  into  the  woods  and  the 
mountains  of  Yukon.  Nor  is  there 
the  slightest  pause  on  her  part  when 
undertaking  these  expeditions  in  the 


open.  She  has  the  love  of  the  out-of- 
doors  in  her  soul,  the  love  of  hill  and 
sky  and  bird  and  flower. 


Perhaps  there  is  not  in  all  the 
Dominion  of  Canada  a  better  botan- 
ist. Perhaps,  also,  no  .one  person 
has  done  as  much  as  Mrs.  Black  to- 
wards dispelling  the  once  almost  uni- 
versal idea  that  Yukon  is  only  a  land 
of  snow  and  ice,  and  in  demonstrating 
in  a  most  unique  and  convincing 
manner  that  in  summer  Yukoners 
are  bountifully  supplied  with  sun- 
shine and  flowers.  In  1908,  Mrs. 
Black  prepared  a  collection  of  Yukon 
flowers  containing  over  four  hundred 
ilifferent  varieties  beautifully  mounted 
under  glass  and  sent  it  to  the  World's 
Fair  at  Seattle,  where  it  attracted 
wide  attention.  Shortly  after  this, 
the  Canadian  Pacific  railway  employed 
Mrs.  Black  to  prepare  a  similar  dis- 
play of  British  Columbia  flowers  which 
grow  in  the  vicinity  of  their  mountain 
resorts.  This  collection  is  now  to 
be  seen,  at  Banff. 

So  extensive  and  thorough  has  been 
her  botanical  knowledge  since  her 
youth  that  at  one  time  she  was  oflFered 
an  important  commission  by  the  gov- 
ernment of  Belgium.  She  declined 
it,  and  instead  became  a  Yukon  "sour- 
dough" and  wife  of  the  commissioner 
of  the  territory,  in  which  capacity, 
it  may  be  parenthetically  remarked, 
her  one  particular  pride  is  her  ability 


CHILKOOT  PASS,  AS  IT  LOOKED  IN  1898  WHEN  MRS.  BLACK  CROSSED  IT  WITH  HER 
BROTHER  AND  THREW  IN  HER  FORTUNES  WITH  THE  YUKON 


Bfl 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


321 


to  make  fine  bread  not  Ijuilt  on  a  sour 
dough  basis. 

One  day  last  August,  I  wandered, 
camera  in  hand,  through  the  streets 
of  Dawson,  an  absolute  stranger  to 
the  place  and  all  its  inhabitants.  A 
little  ahead  of  me.  I  obser\cd  a  large 
and  well  built  residence  of  more  dis- 
tinction than  any  others  in  the  town. 
Moreover,  it  was  noteworthy  for 
the  exquisite  beauty  and  neatness  of 
the  lawn  and  flower  beds  which  lay 
between  the  street  and  the  entrance 
stairs.  Fresh  from  a  wilderness  where 
few  flowers  grew,  this  spot,  so  full  of 
color  and  fragrance,  so  full  indeed 
of  the  feeling  of  ci\-ilization  and  home, 
held  great  appeal  to  the  stranger.  It 
seemed  necessary  to  make  a  picture 
of  these  Yuk(m  flower  beds,  and  so, 
with  the  purpose  of  asking  permission, 
I  rang  the  front  door  bell  of  the  man- 
sion, quite  ignorant  of  the  fact  that 
it  was  the  ofiicial  residence  of  the  gov- 
ernment of  Canada's  most  northerly 
territory. 

Consent  was  readily  given,  although 
neither  the  commissioner  nor  his  wife 
was  within  at  the  time — indeed  Mrs. 
Black  was  absent  in  Vancouver.  But 
that  was  the  beginning  of  the  very 
plea.sant  personal  acquaintance  which 
prompts  this  little  history. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  Canadians 
and  Americans  alike,  this  story  of  a 
plucky  woman  who  went  into  the 
Yukon  stampede  with  the  strongest 
and  n)ughest  of  men,  who  came  out 
of  it  unsullied  and  successful  in  every 
way,  and  who,  by  sheer  womanliness, 
reached  a  woman's  happiness  as  well  as 
the  highest  social  rank  [Xjssible  in  her 
chosen  home.  I'or  Mrs.  Black  is  not 
only  Madam  Commissioner,  not  only 
a  skilled  manager  of  social  functions, 
but  also  an  efficient  housewife,  and 
alK)ve  all  a  hai)[)y  wonian  of  infectious 
good  nature  and  kindliness  of  heart. 
She    is   an    example   of    that    curious 


MADAM  COMMISSIONER  AND  HEK  ARTISTIC  DRAW1N( 

AMATBUR  GARDENER.  AND  KEEPS 

AND  PLANTS 

* 

civilization  which  has  no  counterpart 
anywhere  else  on  the  earth.  For  her, 
we  may  wipe  out  any  national  lines, 
and  say  that  she  is  a  product  of 
the  West.  That  means,  she  would 
do  for  any  East. 

As  a  young  girl,  she  attended  a 
seminary  in  Chicago,  then  for  five 
years  was  under  the  tutelage  of  the 
Sisters  of  the  Holy  Cross  at  St.  Mary's 
Academy  at  Notre  Dame,  Indiana, 
where  she  graduated  with  high  honors 
and  was  a  gold  medalist.  She  does 
not  like  to  sew,  and  would  rather  run 
a  .sawmill;  but  nevertheless  she  is  a 
fine  nee<llewoman.  It  has  been  set 
down  that  she  can  make  bread,  and 


i-ROOM  AT  DAWSON.       MRS.  BLACK  IS  AN  ENTHUSIASTIC 
THE  RESIDENCY  rULL  Or  FLOWERS 
ALL  WINTER  LOHO 


one  suspects  also  that  she  could  fab- 
ricate excellent  pie,  were  that  not  an 
undignified  procedure  on  the  part  of 
a  governor's  lady. 

In  her  beautiful  home  .ii  Dawson, 
Mrs.  Black  reads  much  and  writes 
not  a  little.  She  is  a  g(M)d  walker  and 
an  ardent  dancer.  She  rides  and 
drives  and  shoots.  In  short,  it  may 
be  said  of  her  in  perhaps  as  large 
measure  as  of  any  woman  in  official 
life  in  the  I)ominii>n  that  she  is  no 
more  dignified  patroness  than  she  is 
large-hearted  woman  and  gfH>d  human 
being.  Which  is  as  much  praise  as  may 
fall  to  any  woman  in  any  rank  of 
life  and  in  any  land. 


J 


S  l\isK 

Farsin\o 

Frederick  Williarcv  \A^ 
Illustrated  b\j  J.A.Bavjrve 


PERHAPS  I  am  doing  Captain 
Ezekiel  Smith  an  injustice  when 
I  say  he  was  a  mean  man.  He 
was  only  inordinately  careful  of 
incurring  expenses.  If  you  were  a 
friend  of  the  skipper  and  he  met  you 
somewhere  with  a  saloon  close  aboard, 
he  would  buy  the  drinks  just  as  freely 
as  the  next  man.  But  if  you  were  a 
poor  devil  of  a  fore-mast-jack  on  his 
Bluenose  bark  Trade  Wind,  you'd  say 
he  was  too  parsimonious  even  to  scrape 
the  verdigris  off  his  sextant  for  fear 
he'd  lose  some  of  the  brass. 

"Luggy"  Watson,  steering  at  the 
bark's  wheel,  thought  so,  and  as  he  was 
first  trick,  it  was  up  to  him  to  size  up 
the  calibre  of  the  bark's  afterguard 
and  report  to  the  crowd  for'ard.  With 
this  object  first  in  mind,  he  kept  an 
eye  on  the  compass,  another  on  the 
weather  leach  of  the  main-royal,  and 
an  open  ear  for  quarterdeck  conversa- 
tion between  skipper  and  mate.  Wat- 
son's auricular  appendages  were  large 
and  receptive,  and  protruded  to  star- 
board and  port  of  his  unhandsome 
bullet  head  like  studdingsails,  and  his 
shipmates  were  wont  to  say  that  the 
ship  made  a  knot  an  hour  more  when 
running  with  square  yards  during 
Luggy 's  trick  at  the  wheel.  However 
that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  story 
but  it  will  serve  to  show  that  most  of 
Captain  Smith's  loud  conversation, 
vibrated  on  Luggy's  tympanums. 

The  bark  had  just  dropped  a  tow- 
boat  outside  of  Newcastle,  N.  S.  W., 
and  the  price  exacted  by  the  tug's 
skipper  for  pulling  the  heavy,  coal- 
laden  vessel  to  sea  caused  the  tight- 
fisted  Nova  Scotian  to  exude  per- 
spiration and  profanity  when  he 
thought  over  it. 

"Sink  me  !"  he  rumbled  to  the  mate 
as  they  paced  the  weather  al  ey.  "I 
hope  I'll  never  see  that  cursed  place 
again.  What  with  a  dock  strike,  two 
months  in  the  fifth  tier  alongside  the 
Dyke  and  the  price  them  blasted 
crimps  screwed  me  for  a  crew  of  no- 

322 


sailors  and  sojers,  I've  hr.d  a  session 
and  no  fatal  error.  Then  this  blamed 
tug  sticks  me  for  as  much  in  towage  as 
his  kettle  is  worth.  Lord  Harry  !  it's 
been  the  very  devil,  but  I'm  through 
with  it  after  this.  As  soon  as  this 
craft  gets  to  Frisco,  she  goes  to  the 
cannery  companies.  Then  I  go  back 
east  and  lay  up." 

"Then  ye've  decided  t'  sell  her, 
Cap'en  ?"  queried  the  mate. 

"Aye  !  She  goes  to  the  Alaska 
Cannery  Company  as  soon  as  we  get 
the  cargo  out  of  her.  They've  offered 
me  a  fair  price,  and  as  windjammer 
freights'  have  gone  to  hell  these  days,  I 
cal'late  I'll  take  it." 

This  part  of  the  conversation  hardly 


interested  Mr.  Watson.  He  didn't  care 
a  continental  what  happened  to  the 
bark  after  she  arrived,  and  he  was 
engaged  in  correcting  the  flapping 
leach  of  the  main  t'gallan's'l,  whea« 
more  momentous  talk  floated  in  his^ 
direction  and  caused  him  to  strain  his 
auditory  nerves. 

"Spruce  her  up — "  it  was  the  skipper 
talking — "  she's  got  to  look  her  best 

when  we  arrive crew.     .  . 

paid  forty  dollars  blood  money  for 
them.  .  .  .  work  'em  up  good 
.     .     .     .     beachcombers  and  Sydney 

larrikins haze    'em.     .     . 

they'll  cut  and  run  soon's  we  strike 
Frisco  Bay.  .  .  .  leave  it  to  you'n 
second  mate.     .     .     ." 

"Th'  nawsty  brute,"  commented 
Watson,  and  his  spirits  fell  like  the 
barometer  in  a  West  India  hurricane 
when  he  saw  the  chief  blower  smack  a 
horny  palm  with  a  heavy  fist  in  anti- 
cipatory glee  of  planting  said  fist  on 
some  poor  flatfoot's  physiognomy  in 
the  near  future.  When  the  wheel  was 
relieved,  Luggy  and  the  port  watch 
went  below,  and  to  an  apprehensive 
crowd  he  retailed  the  skipper's  con- 
versation. Comments  were  naturally 
lurid  and  blasphemous. 

"The  'orridest  kind  o'  skippers  t' 
sail  wiv  is  the  ones  like  our  ol'  man. 
'E's  a  bleedin'  Bluenose  t'  begin  wiv, 
an'  'e's  so  cussed  mean  that  'e'd  swipe 
th'  pennies  from  the  eyes  of  a  corpse. 
'E  probably  owns  a  part  o'  this  soft 
wood  hooker  an'  'e'll  sure  to'  be  an  'oly 
terror    for    savin'    expenses.     An'    ye 


WHEN  LUGGY  WAS  RELIEVED  AT  THE  WHEEL  HE  WENT  BELOW  AND  RETAILED  THE  SKIPPER'S 
CONVERSATION  TO  AN  APPREHENSIVE  CROWD 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


323 


sh'd  'ave  seen  th'  nawsty  wye  th' 
bloomin'  myte  smacks  'is  bloomin' 
mitts  togevver  when  th'  ol'  man  told 
'im  to  sock  it  to  us.  Hidjious,  I  calls 
it.  Sye,  'oo's  Peggy  ?  Go  aft  an'  git 
th'  grub." 

When  the  ordinary  seaman  brought 
in  the  hookpot  of  tea,  the  bucket  of 
I>ea  soup  and  the  mess  kit  of  salt  pork 
and  potatoes,  Mr.  Watson  was  curse- 
fully  indignant. 

"Look  at  this  truck  !"  he  cried 
"Shore  grub's  finished  now,  an'  we'vi 
got  t'  fill  our  insides  wiv  this.  Look 
at  this  bucket  o'  bullet  soup — sali 
water  an'  gravel,  I  calls  it.  Tea — water 
bewitched  an'  tea  begrudged, — an' 
this  'ere  pork — Lord  !  reg'lar  Lizzi( 
McGuire  for  sure.  No  bloomin'  won- 
der th'  police  couldn't  find  no  bloomin' 
trace  of  her,"  And  he  cut  his  whack 
with  evident  disgust. 

Then  the  cook  ambled  in,  full  to  the 
back  teeth  with  portentous  informa- 
tion. "What  d'ye  think  o'  th'  grub, 
boys  ?" 

"Rotten  !"  snarled  a  chorus  of  surly 
voices. 

The  cook  nodded.  "  'Tain't  naw- 
thin'  to  what's  comin'  though.  Th' 
beef  fair  stunk  as  me'n  th'  stooard 
opened  up  a  cask,  while  th'  pork  an' 
biscuit  'ud  make  a  limejuiccr  sick. 
Th'  stooard  said  he  never  laid  eyes  on 
sich  rotten  truck  in  all  his  life.  He 
had  to  lay  down  in  his  bunk  for  a 
spell  arter  breakin'  out  th'  stores — 
th'  butter  an'  pork  fair  turned  his 
stomach — " 

"Th'  hell  ye  say,"  growled  the  port 
watch  resentfully,  and  Luggy  hove  his 
pannikin  down  and  spoke  propheti- 
cally. "Yus  !  we're  in  for  it.  'Twill 
be  nigger-drivin'  frum  here  to  Golden 
Gytc  an'  look  up  an'  stand  frum  under 
the  'ole  bloomin'  v'y'ge." 

A  British  colonial  ship  is  not  a  "lime- 
juicer,"  and  though  both  fly  the  same 
ensign,  yet  the  laws  which  govern  both 
have  difTerent  interpretations.  Strike 
a  seaman  al)oard  a  British  vessel 
and  he  will  have  you  "logged"  and 
heavily  fined  for  violating  the 
articles  of  the  merchant  shii)i)ing  act 
as  sfxm  as  he  can  enter  a  complaint 
with  the  first  consul. 

If  the  vessel  is  a  Bluenosc,  .\lr. 
Consul  will  make  a  deprecatory  gesture 
and  inform  you  that  he  has  no  juris- 
diction over  Canadian  ships. 

"Very  sorry,  y'know,  but  you'd 
bcttah  send  youah  complaint  to  Cana- 
flaw.  'Ihf  authorities  theah  will  l(K)k 
into  it  foah  you."  If  you  are  in  Val- 
paraiso, the  recommendation  is  likely 
to  be  acted  upon. 

The  Trade  Wind  was  a  Bluenoser; 
the  master  was  Nova  Scotian;  the 
mate  was  Downcast  Yankee,  and  the 
sccond'greaser  was  an  Aberdeen  Scotch- 
man who  had  "bumped  up  against" 
the  odious  merchant  shipping  act  so 


THE  BA«K  HAD  JUST  DROPPED  HKR  TOWBOAT  AND  THK  PRICK  EXACTED  BY  THE  TUC  S  SKIPPER 

CAUSED  THE  THE  TIGHT-FISTED  NOVA  SCOTIAN  TO  COME  FORWARD, 

EXL'DING  PERSPIRATION  AND  PROFANITY 


often  that  he  gloried  in  being  able  to 
break  most  of  its  regulations  with 
impunity.  With  such  a  combination 
in  authority,  the  bark's  foremast 
crowd  had  a  hot  time. 

It  was  hotter  still  when  they  drifted 
into  a  calm  bell  in  twenty  s<juth,  and 
the  mates  had  both  their  watches  over 
the  side  in  boats  and  on  painting  stages 
daubing  the  bark's  topsides  with  a 
mi.\ture  of  lampblack  and  kerosene. 
The  sea  stretched  in  a  huge  plain  of 
silent  glassiness,  and  overhead  a  cop- 
per sun  literally  scorched  the  perspiring 
men  working  in  the  torrid  heat.  Under 
the  grateful  shade  of  an  awninged  jjoop, 
lolled  the  mates  superintending  the 
work — irritable    with    the    heat    and 


.savage  with  the  feelings  induced  by 
stagnant  calm. 

The  skipper  had  been  leaning  over 
the  talTrail,  and,  flopping  in  his  carpet 
slippers,  he  came  for'ard  to  the  two 
mates. 

"Say,"  he  said.  "There's  a  power 
of  good  looking  slush  floating  on  the 
water  herealx)uts.  See  those  two 
lumps  there  ?"  And  he  pointed  to  a 
couple  of  chunks  of  greyish  grease 
floating  near  the  bark. 

"Must  be  dumped  from  the  galleys 
of  those  Australian  liners.  They're 
very  wasteful,  but  we  can  use  it  for 
slushing  down  the  masts.  Send  one  of 
your  l>oats  after  it  with  an  empty  barrel. 
See,  there's  several  pieces  around." 


324 

And  the  male  hid  a  smile  as  he  call- 
ed out  to  the  men  painting;  in  the 
quarter-boat,  "Git  a  bar'l'n  scoop 
up  that  slush  ye  see  floatin'  around. 
Stow  it  away  in  th'  paint  room." 

"Auld  man  isgrreaton  savin'things," 
remarked  the  Aberdonian  second  mate 
lazily  |)urfmg  away  at  his  pipe. 

"Aye,"  returned  the  <3ther.  "He'd 
b'ile  his  father's  body  for  ih'  tallow. 
Mean  as  hell." 

The  calm  lasted  long  enough  to  get 
the  bark's  hull  painted  to  the  water- 
line.  Then  as  they  box-hauled  the 
windjammer  through  the  doldrums 
and  across  the  ec|uator,  the  over- 
worked crew  were  kept  busy  rattling 
down  and  setting  up  the  rigging  in  the 
sweating  heat.  In  the  tropical  rain- 
storms they  worked  around  the  decks 
chipping  rust  and  scraping  cable,  and 
the  mates  spent  the  best  part  of  their 
time  planning  work-up  jobs. 

"Remember,"  the  skipper  had  said. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"tiiose  sojers  have  got  to  skip  out  when 
we  make  port,  so  make  it  hot  for  them. 
They're  signed  on  for  a  return  voyage 
to  Australia  again,  you  know,  but,  as 
no  return  voyage  is  going  to  be  made, 
I  want  them  to  jump  the  ship.  See 
that  they  do."  And  the  mates  did 
their  best  to  see. 

Hutch  Willy  had  f(jur  of  his  front 
teeth  knocked  out  by  coming  in  violent 
contact  with  a  jib  hank — said  hank 
being  over  the  greaser's  doubled  uj) 
fist.  Willy's  crime  consisted  in  dro()- 
|)ing  a  margarine  can  full  of  tar  over 
the  side.  Luggy  Watson  was  fanned 
to  sleep  for  a  whole  watch  with  a  green- 
heart  belaying  pin  skilfully  manipu- 
lated by  the  downeast  mate.  Luggy's 
offence  was  dozing  at  the-  wheel  one 
night  and  getting  the  fore-royal  aback. 
Captain  Smith  put  the  port  watch 
"on  allowance"  because  they  came  aft 
and  complained  of  the  food,  and  the 
luckless  shellbacks   merely  existed   on 


the  religious  prescri|)tion  of  diet  a  la 
Board  of  Trade.  Altogether  both 
watches  had  an  exciting  time,  and  the 
Maine  mate  was  thinking  of  qualifying 
for  a  "white  hope"  with  the  amount 
of  |)ugilistic  exercise  he  had  been  put- 
ting in  on  the  Trade  Wind's  crowd. 
So  y(ju  will  understand  that  the  bark 
was  not  exactly  an  ocean  Valhalla. 

Seaman  Watson,  being  a  man  of  a 
little  more  spirit  than  the  spineless 
creatures  who  made  up  the  rest  of  his 
watch,  made  up  his  mind  that  he 
would  "get"  the  mate  sooner  or  later. 
He  made  a  very  fair  try  one  day  while 
aloft  on  the  mizzen  fitting  a  new  main- 
topgallantsail  brace  lead  bhjck,  but 
unfortunately  the  officer  stepped  away 
just  as  the  heavy  article  struck  the 
white  planks  of  the  deck  and  made  a 
visible  dent.  As  the  Yankee  mate  did 
not  believe  in  accidents,  Luggy  was 
received  at  the  weather  rigging  and 
Continued  on  page  36.5. 


The  Town  That  Wouldn't  Wait 


ACCORDING  to  the  map  in  my 
atlas,  barely  five  years  old, 
there  appeared  to  be  nothing 
where  we  were  going.  Central 
British  Columbia  showed  as  a  bare 
pink  expanse  broken  only  by  the  wavy 
lines  of  rivers,  the  globular  or  oval 
shapes  of  lakes.  Sparsely — very 
sparsely — names  of  a  few  forts  were 
printed  on  the  page.  Fort  George,  Fort  St.  James,  and  one 
or  two  others,  reflected  the  ancient  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany and  the  romance  of  the  fur  trade.  Except  for  here 
and  there  an  Indian  village,  the  atlas  proclaimed  no  other 
settlements  from  the  Yellow  Head  Pass  through  the 
Rockies  on  the  edge  of  Alberta  west  and  north  to  the  old 
Indian  traders'  town  of  Hazleton  where  the  cascades  of 
the   Bulkley   rush   into    the  Skeena  river  some    hundred 


WAITING    FOR    THE    LT_TrtBER 


By  Edwin  Balmer 

Author  of"  Via  Wireless."  "Surakarla, 
"Coufisel  for  the  Defence,"  etc. 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 


miles  above  the  Pacific  tidewater. 
I  turned  to  a  certain  timetable  map 
for  later  information,  which  if  not 
dated  down  to  that  day  of  May,  1914, 
on  which  I  was  seeking  information,  at 
least  would  be  only  a  few  months  old. 
Across  that  empty  pink  space  ran  a 
heavy  black  line  recording  the  route 
of  the  continent's  newest  rails,  and 
dotted  with  white  points  beside  which  were  printed 
names  denoting  towns,  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  six 
of  them  between  Mount  Robson  and  Prince  Rupert 
on  the  sea.  And  though  it  was  plain  that  my  five- 
year-old  atlas  told  of  antiquity — as  antiquity  is  appre- 
ciated in  western  Canada — it  was  evident  that  the  second 
map  must  look  at  least  a  little  into  the  future.  In 
one  of  those  white-dotted  towns  about  midway  between 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


325 


the  Alberta-Brit- 
ish Columbia 
boundary  and  the 
coast,  I  had  a 
sentimental  inter- 
est. Which  map, 
at  that  moment, 
told  of  it  more 
truly  ? 

From  Winnipeg 
west  there  were 
four  of  us.  W  e 
" roughed  it  "  in 
the  luxury  of  steel 
trains,  compart- 
ments, dining  car 
and  hotels  unex- 
celled in  Chicago. 
Writing  for  East- 
ern Canadians  and 
Americans  south 
of  the  international 
boundary,  it  would- 
be  necessary  to 
-lop  to  tell  of 
Winnipeg.  I 
thought  I  knew  it, 
having  been  there 
five  years  before; 
hut  now  I  was  a 
stranger     in     its 

streets.  It's  going  ahead  altogether 
too  fast  to  be  photographed  except 
l>y  a  moving  picture  concern  releasing 
at  least  a  reel  each  day.  Two  hun- 
dred thousand  people  yesterday.  To- 
day, who  knows  ?  We  could  not 
count  them  as  they  poured  from  the 
gates  of  the  stations  of  the  three  trans- 
continentals  on  that  sunny  day  of 
Mav. 

Yet  look  at  the  Manitoba  page  of 
an  atlas  only  a  generation  ago,  and 
what  was  there  ?  A  trading  post. 
We  left  the  hospitality  of  the  great 
chateau,  white  and  towering,  which 
watches  the  way  of  the  newest  line  to 
the  western  coast  here  beginning  to 
turn  more  to  the  north  as  it  passes  the 
prairies.  We  took  the  train  for  another 
night    and    another   day   and   were   in 


ONE  OF  THE  REASONS 


Edmonton.  It  was  a  dot,  denoting  a 
traders'  post,  little  more  than  a  decade 
ago.  Now  ?  A  capital  city  stands 
on  the  heights  above  the  Saskatchewan 
river.  A  conservative  citizen  esti- 
mated that  the  present  population 
was  seventy  thousand;  but  a  couple 
of  hundred  more  must  have  come  into 
the  city  the  day  we  did. 

Many  of  these  were  bound  for  those 
dots  along  the  railway  further  west ; 
and  some  hundreds  of  those  who  had 
arrived  before  us  were  also  waiting 
for  service  to  take  them  further.  But 
just  then  they  could  not  go  on. 

When  we  left  home,  we  were  cheer- 
fully certain  of  getting  through  to 
Prince  Rui)ert.  Our  friends  nodded 
l)olitely  and  wished  us  a  jileasant  trip. 
They    didn't    know    anything    at    all 


IIIK  WALLX  or  Tilt  FUST  BIIILIIINi; 


about  it.  If  we  intended  to  go,  and 
had  tickets  from  one  point  to  another, 
doubtless  there  must  be  trains  run- 
ning between  those  points.  If  there 
was  a  line  from  Winnipeg  to  Edmon- 
ton— about  as  definitely  known  to  the 
average  inhabitant  of  the  United  States 
as  Denver  is  to  the  average  English- 
man—and if  beyond  Edmonton  there 
was  still  more  rail  to  a  hitherto  abso- 
lutely unknown  point  yclept  Prince 
George,  why  should  there  not  be 
trains  running  still  further  ?  Beyond 
Edmonton  to  them  was  unknown,  a 
wilderness. 

It  is  a  strange  commentary  upon 
nationalism  that  this  was  so.  For 
the  route  of  the  new  line  from  Edmon- 
ton west  to  the  coast  clings  about  as 
closely  as  a  railroad  can  to  an  imaginary 
line  once  famous  about  the  world  as 
"I'ifty-four  Forty."  To  make  that 
line  a  northern  boimdary,  and  to  win 
the  wonderful  domain  below  that  line, 
the  United  States  once  was  ready  to 
go  to  war.  But  the  British  knew  too 
much  to  grant  that  domain  away  and 
the  international  boundary  finally  was 
fixe<l  far  to  the  south;  so  siiice  the 
time  of  "Fifty-four  l-'orty  or  Fight" 
that  country,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
.American,  has  Ijecome  undesirable,  a 
wild  waste.  You  may  recall  that  the 
fox  look  to  entertaining  some  similar 
sentiments  towards  those  grapes  which 
hung  too  high.  At  any  rate,  no  one 
in  the  Stales  seemed  to  know  and  few 
were  more  than  politely  curious  as  to 
whether  a  railroad  now  was  running 
along  that  parallel  once  claimed  by 
the  United  States  for  its  boundary. 


326 

Winnipeg,  of  course,  was  more  than 
concerncci.  Besides  being  interested, 
Winnipeg  also  knew — enough  to  give 
us  our  first  grave  doubts  of  ability  to 
"get  through"  over  the  line.  At 
Edmonton,  a  day  and  a  night  nearer 
to  the  front,  we  began  to  meet  men 
who  had  been  further  west  just 
recently,  and  our  doubts  of  getting 
'through  doubled. 

As  far  west  of  Edmonton  as  the 
east  bank  of  the  Eraser  river  the  road 
was  in  operation.  At  a  new  town 
called  McBride,  we  were  to  Ue  over- 
night. Beyond  McBride,  a  :hundred 
and  thirty  miles  to  where  the  Eraser 
river  meets  the  Nechaco  and  turns 
south  toward  Soda  Creek,  a  tri-weekly 
train  would  take  us  westward. 

So  a  pullman  train  took  us  out  of 
Edmonton  in  the  night  for  McBride, 
and  in  the  morning  the  mountains 
were  about  us. 

It  had  been  my  fortune  before  this 
trip  to  encounter  the  Rockies  in 
Mexico  where  they  shut  ofT  Chihuahua 
from  Sinaloa,  to  cross  them  at  two 
different  points  in  the  United  States 
and  to  meet  them  also  on  the  southern 
edge  of  Canada.  Each  crossing  of 
this  mighty  mountain  range  was  widely 
different  from  the  others,  and  here 
again  were  new  scenery  and  experi- 
ences. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

You  do  not  know  the  Rockies  of  the 
Yellow  Head  merely  because  you  may 
have  crossed  mountains  of  the  same 
name  elsewhere  on  the  continent. 
The  Yellow  Head  Pass — Tete  Jaune 
still  clings  as  the  name  of  a  station 
there — shows  strange  delights  and 
stretches  of  scenery  all  its  own.  It 
is  an  interesting  but  yet  a  minor 
matter  that  Mount  Robson,  which 
towers  above  the  track  of  the  new 
railroad,  is  the  giant  of  the  mountains 
of  Canada. 

It  is  not  the  few  hundred  feet  of 
superiority  in  height  which  adds  so 
greatly  to  the  grandeur  at  that  point; 
nor  is  it  entirely  the  circumstance 
that  the  new  transcontinental  road 
was  found  a  pass  of  so  slight  elevation 
that  the  traveller  on  the  train  is  treated 
to  almost  the  entire  height  of  these 
Titanic  ranges.  There  is  a  breadth 
and  sweep  to  the  slopes  below  the 
snow-capped  summits  about  Tete 
Jaune  something  like  the  mighty 
mountains  rising  above  Mexico  City. 
And  beside  the  track  here  at  Tete 
Jaune,  as  the  train  runs  through  these 
mountains  of  the  north,  long  lakes  lie 
shimmering  in  the  sun,  mile  after  mile 
as  the  cars  speed  by.  Beside  them, 
the  grade  is  level;  beyond  them  the 
track  does  not  seem  to  climb.  And 
as  you  view  these  scenes  of  the  wild 


unpeopled  mountains  strange  to  you, 
you  receive  the  sense  that  these  views 
are  new  to  others — that  few  ha\e  been 
through  that  pass  before  you.  Here 
and  there  now,  you  .see  the  log  sides 
and  roof  beams  of  the  shacks  of  con- 
struction camps  just  recently  deserted; 
one  or  two  of  them  still  hold  a  few 
tenants,  as  the  canvas  roofing,  still 
remaining,  tells;  and  clothing  is  on 
a  line,  blown  by  the  mountain 
breeze. 

A  little  after  noon  we  stop  at  Mc- 
Bride, a  tiny,  straight-sided,  unpainted 
town,  arraying  itself  in  squares  beside 
the  track.  A  station. stands  there  of 
the  type  marking  the  end  of  a  railroad 
division;  long  lines  of  cars  wait  on 
the  tracks  of  the  yards  opposite.  Some- 
where between  McBride  and  Prince 
George,  another  divisional  point  away 
to  the  west,  is  the  single  train  which 
attempts  the  hundred  and  thirty  miles 
of  road  where,  although  it  is  in  opera- 
tion, the  ballast  train  is  still  at  work. 
The  train  is  Ijound  east  now,  returning 
from  the  hither  bank  of  the  Eraser, 
opposite  Prince  George.  If  it  gets  in 
this  evening,  we  will  start  out  on  board 
it  at  five  in  the  morning,  for  the  return 
trip.  Sometime  after  we  had  gone  to 
bed  in  the  sleeping  car  which  brought 
us  from  Edmonton,  it  got  in.  We 
,  Continued  on  page  360. 


"Motherer" 

ALTHOUGH  AT  EIGHT  YEARS  JACK 
WAS  AN  OLD,  OLD  PLAY-GOER,  THE 
IMMORTAL  GLORIES  OF  THE  WILD 
WEST  AND  ITS  INDIANS  BETRAY 
HIM  TO  A  FALL 

By  Clara  Morris 

Illustrated  by  V.  C.  Forsythe 


HE  was  the  son  of  my  good  friend, 
the  actress  who  played  old 
women  in  the  company  of 
which  I  was  a  modestly  hopeful 
member.  I  had  not  then,  for  all  my 
burning  eloquence,  attained  the  dignity 
of  long  skirts;  and  the  short  frocks  I 
wore  seemed  to  differentiate  me  from 
his  mother  and  sister  and  the  sex 
generally,  and  to  create  a  bond  as  of 
despised  youthfulness  between  us. 

A  slender  little  chap  he  was,  with 
large  eyes,  in  color  the  intense  blue  of  a 
June  sky.  He  had  been  christened 
John  Brandish,  but  of  course  he  was 
Johnnie  to  the  members  of  his  imme- 
diate family,  just  as  he  was  "Jack"  to 


the  "gang" — the  moderately  disre- 
putable collection  of  street  boys  whom 
he  calle^d  his  friends — and  to  me. 

He  was  a  solemn  little  creature  in  the 
house,  and  'among  the  members  of  the 
company;  but  on  the  street,  freed 
from  the  weight  of  his  professional 
dignity,  he  was  a  \eritable  little  imp 
of  mischief.  In  every  lad's  being  there 
are  two  boys — the  whooping,  yelling, 
go-a-swimming,  hang-on-behind,  hit- 
him-again,  small  scalawag  is  one,  and 
the  other  is  an  ambitious,  when-I'm-a- 
man  dreamer  of  dreams — mother-lov- 
ing, sensitive,  and  dumb. 

Little  Jack  Brandish  would  have 
been   precisely  like  a   thousand  other 


small  males  of  his  age  had  it  not  been 
that  his  mother's  profession  was  acting. 
As  a  baby  he  slept  on  her  dressing  shelf 
amidst  the  paints  and  powders,  cold 
cream  and  wigs,  and  all  the  parapher- 
nalia of  her  craft.  Later  he  was 
securely  tied  in  a  chair  in  the  dressing 
room  while  his  mother  was  on  the 
stage;  and  finally,  as  a  very  little  chap, 
he  had  been  allowed  the  run  of  the 
theater  during  rehearsals.  At  eight 
he  was  an  old,  old  playgoer;  and,  quite 
incidentally,  as  cle\er  a  critic  of  play 
or  players  as  I  have  ever  met.  But  his 
theatrical  side.was  never  shown  to  any- 
one outside  of  his  small  home  circle. 
By   no    possible    chance   did    he    ever 


Speak  to  landlady,  boarder,  or  street 
boy,  of  his  relation  to  the  theater.  He 
was  not  ashamed  of  it,  but  his  mother 
thought  it  was  vulgar  and  ill  bred  to 
talk  shop. 

Jack  did  not  get  on  well  with  his  tall 
sister  who,  ten  years  older  than  him- 
self, was  one  of  that  large  body  of 
people  who  would  gladly  welcome  a 
second  Herod  and  a  new  edict  that 
would  sweep  all  small  boys  from  the 
face  of  the  earth.  For  me.  Jack  had  a 
sort  of  frisking,  blundering,  puppy- 
dog  affection.  Secretly  I  sewed  up 
many  a  small  jacket  or  shirt  before  his 
mother  saw  them,  and  in  return 
he  would  pat  my  shoulder  and  sym- 
pathize with  my  own  great  trouble: 
"Say,  I'rn  awful  sorr>-  your  mother 
won't — but  I'd  think  you'd  like  short 
skirts  better'n  draggy-tailed  dresses. 
When  you  got  'em  you  wouldn't  be 
any  good  any  more,  but  just  like 
Blanche,  full  of  airs." 

Though  his  relations  with  his 
mother  were  often  strained  and  her 
manner  toward  him  was  generally 
one  of  chill  dignity  and  reserve, 
still,  in  a  sort  of  surreptitious  way, 
they  loved  each  other  tenderly.  She 
was  a  woman  ponderous  and  of 
amazing  girth,  whose  movements 
reminded  me  of  the  solemn  advance 
of  an  iceberg. 

Jack  in  his  character  of  street 
gamin  mortified  his  mother  cruelly. 
On  these  occasions  I  did  not  know 
which  of  the  two  to  be  sorriest  for. 

Once,  when  we  were  all  on  our 
way  to  rehearsal,  we  turned  a  comer 
to  find  ourselves  in  the  heart  of  a 
crowd  of  ragamuffins  yelling  "Clear 
the  way  !"  In  the  middle  of  the 
excited  throng,  Jack,  bareheaded, 
in  shirt  sleeves,  with  perspiration 
pouring  down  his  pale  little  face, 
was  straining  to  the  harness  of  a 
reeking  garbage  cart — the  owner  of 
which  ran  by  his  .side  holding  Jack's 
coat  and  hat  and  the  penny  de- 
manded for  the  sweet-scented  privi- 
lege. 

Mrs.  Brandish  came  to  a  full  stop, 
quivering  as  a  mighty  jelly  quaking 
to.its  fall,  and  in  a  voice  choked  with 
passion  she  commanded  him  to  leave 
the  gutter  and  his  un.speakable  occu- 
pation and  wait  her  coming  at  home. 

"Yes'um,"  was  the  only  answer  Jack 
vouchsafefl.  But  his  eyes  were  big  and 
troubled,  and  he  turned  homeward 
without  a  backward  look. 

But  behind  us,  as  we  resumed  our 
walk,  we  had  left  a  sudden  tornado  of 
discord.  As  we  had  proceeded,  Mrs. 
Brandish 's  great  size  and  peculiar 
movement,  aggravatetl  by  the  dignity 
of  her  state  of  mind,  provoked  the 
sarcasm  of  one  of  the  "gang,"  wh<j 
pointetl  after  her  yelling: 

"Say  !  Get  onto  the  haystack  ! 
Ain't  she  the  biggest  thing  on  ice  ?" 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered 
when  little  Jack,  with  the  fury  of  a 
young  beast,  had  dashed  his  puny  fists 
into  the  offender's  face,  and  in  return 
he  was  beaten  and  battered  almost  out 
of  shape.  But  before  he  was  seriously 
injured  the  other  boys  intervened. 
"Hey,  Bill,  hold  on  there  !  She's  his 
old  woman — that's  Jack's  mudder. 
Let  up,  I  say  !  He's  all  right,  she's 
going  to  lick  him  herself  for  hauling 
Paddy's  cart." 

All  this  I  heard  long  after.  When  we 
came  home  that  afternoon  after  the 
fatigue  of  an  unusually  trying  rehearsal. 


KiervTHfr 


"MOTHERIR  S  SICK.  PLEASE  CAN  T  YOU  HELP  ME 

there  sal  little  Jack  (m  the  steps,  very 
pale  about  the  lips,  with  a  cut  fore- 
head, and  a  blackened  eye  that  had 
been  treated  to  a  cold-meat  applica- 
tion by  a  kindly  Irish  maid  who  still 
hovered  in  his  vicinity. 

Jack  had  two  peculiarities  of  speech. 
He  in\ariably  added  a  syllable  to  the 
word  mother,  making  it  "motherer;" 
and  instead  of  .saying,  "I  shall  never 
forget,"  he  ever  and  always  exclaimed, 
"Oh,  I  shall  never  remember  the  time." 
Now  as  his  mother  stoppe<l,  looking 
down  on  him  with  the  curled  lip  of 
contempt,  expressive  of  her  loathing 
for  fighting,  he  put  out  an  unsteady 
hand  to  touch  her  skirt  and  stammered 
in  a  deprecating  way:  "Motherer — now 
you  see,  motherer     !"     But  she  pulled 


327 

her  skirt  away.  "No,  sir,"  she  said, 
"there  are  two  settlements  to  make  ! 
Go  on  up  stairs  !" 

Her  meaning  was  unmistakable,  and 
I  throttled  an  impulse  to  intercede — 
biit  the  excitable  Irish  girl  broke  out 
with,  "Sure,  mum,  you'd  rtever  be  so 
cruel  as  to  strike  the  poor  bruised  body 
of  him  that's  only  been  fighting  boys 
big  enough  to  ate  him,  becaze  they 
insulted  you,  mum,  on  account  of  your 
size."  I  could  not  see  that  the  implac- 
able bulk  of  Mrs.  Brandish  was 
aflfected,  but  Jack  pointed  to  the  giri 
with  a  face  red  with  anger  "Aw — what 
do  you  want  to  tell  her  that  for  ?" 
he  snapped.  "If  motherer  wants 
to  lick  me — let  her.  I  belong  to  her, 
don't  I  ?"  And  he  limped  painfully 
after  her  up  the  stairs. 

As  I  paused  at  their  door  a  min- 
ute, I  saw  Mrs.  Brandish  remove 
her  gloves,  bonnet,  and  wrap,  while 
he  watched  her  with  big,  anxious 
eyes,  his  little  thin  legs  trembling 
from  their  upward  climb.  She  did 
not  speak  for  a  minute  and  when 
she  did,  it  was  only  to  say,  "Come 
here,  Johnnie  !  "  Then  she  took 
his  hand  and  led  him,  still  in 
silence,  to  the  wash  basin  where 
she  bathed  his  cut  head  and  bruised 
face.  In  my  room  I  heard  several 
"ouches"  but  nothing  indicating  a 
thrashing — for  Jack  was  apt  to  be 
fairly  n(jisy  over  these  heart-to-heart 
interviews  with  his  mother. 

I  slipped  into  the  hall  again  pre- 
sently. Mrs.  Brandish 's  door  was 
still  ajar.  Jack  was  kneeling  before 
her  as  she  placed  the  last  bit  of 
plaster  o\cr  his  wounded  eye.  As 
I  looked  he  rose,  and  in  rising  turn- 
ed ghastly  white  and  reeled  against 
his  mother.  The  child  had  fainted. 
I  flew  to  the  rescue,  found  a  bottle 
of  salts  and  opened  the  window, 
while  Mrs.  Brandish  gathered  her 
son's  fair  head  to  her  breast.  I  saw 
her  face  was  working  painfully  as 
she  ministered  to  him.  As  la.st  the 
big  blue  eyes  opened  and  he  smiletl 
a  slow  faint  smile,  .^s  she  stoop)e<f 
to  kiss   him  she  said  : 

"I'm  sorry,  Johnnie,  \our  mother  fs 
so  much  bigger  than  other  women." 

"I'm  not,  motherer  !  I  like  you 
bigger,"  and  slipping  an  arm  about  her 
neck,  he  cuddled  his  aching  head  closer, 
and  closed  his  eyes  again. 

At  a  very  temler  age,  Jack,  as  is 
generally  the  case  with  actresses'  chil- 
dren, had  been  presse<l  into  service, 
and  had  ()la%cd  all  the  Shakespearean 
small-fry;  Fleance,  the  Duke  of  York, 
the  Prince,  his  brother,  et  cetera.  In 
"temperance"  plays,  which  he  hated, 
he  had  been  wept  and  prayed  over  and 
put  to  l)ed  before  the  audience  to  slow 
music;  while  in  Indian  plays  he  had 
l)een  "blmnlily  avenged"  by  the  brave 
frontiersmen  in  coon-skin  caps,  and  a« 


328 

often  had  been  "treacherously  mur- 
dered at  his  innocent  sport"  by  the 
savage  rwiskins.  He  always  showe^l  a 
most  commendal^le  attention  to  all 
directions,  standing  patiently  at  his 
mother's  knee,  learning  by  ear  the  lines 
she  read  and  reread  to  him. 

That  was  the  theatrical  side  of  him; 
but  whenever  he  acquired  a  penny  and 
'..is  freedom,  he  uttered  an  ear-piercing 
\vhoop  and  hurled  him.self  into  the 
street,  where  he  could  find  the  gang 
and  indulge  his  wild  passion  for  mar- 
bles. 

Jack  brought  his  favorite  alleys  and 
agates  to  me,  as  my  admiration,  which 
was  genuine,  was  grateful  to  him. 
Thus  it  was  to  me  he  came,  shaking 
with  excitement,  to  gasp  triumphantly: 
"I've  got  it  !  I've  won  it  !  Patsy 
Grogan's  great  agate — see  !"  And  he 
held  out  the  spiral  rcd-and-white 
beauty. 

That  same  night  he  played  the 
Prince  in  "I-iichard  III."  and  a  very 
charming  figure  he  made,  his  delicate 
features  and  blond  head  rising  efTective- 
ly  above  the  dense  darkness  of  his 
black  velvet  suit,  his  slender  limbs 
encased  in  black  silk  hose.  He  was  an 
ideal  young  Plantagenet.  Waiting  for 
his  cue,  he  drew  forth  the  wonderful 
marble  and  was  gloating  over  it  when 
the  prompter  called  for  the  Prince. 
He  had  no  pocket — his  jacket  was 
tightly  closed — so  he  made  his  entrance 
upon  the  stage  with  the  big  marble 
tightly  clutched  in  his  right  hand,  but 
he  kept  his  wits  about  him  and  gave 
the  familiar  line,  "I  want  more  uncles 
here  to  welcome  me — "  with  such  win- 
ning grace,  that  quick  applause  fol- 
lowed. As  he  extended  his  hand  to  his 
savage  uncle,  Richard  of  (jloucester, 
to  kiss,  the  star  caught  it  so  roughly  to 
his  lips  that  the  strained  little  fingers 
lost  their  grip  and  that  big  marble  shot 
out,  struck  the  slanting  stage,  went 
rolling,  rolling  till  it  finally  brought  up 
at  the  very  footlights.  And  then  the 
storm  broke.  That  bit  of  red  and  white 
glass,  blinking  in  the  glare  of  the  foot- 
lights, had  knocked  the  play  into  a 
cocked  hat;  sent  Shakespeare  higher 
than  Gilderoy''s  kite;  put  out  the  star 
jn  one  round ;  and  sent  Jack's  mother 
into  a  rigid,  black- velvet-and-jet  fit  in 
the  first  entrance. 

After  his  thrashing  that  night  I 
slipped  into  his  room,  I  knew  nothing 
to  do  for  him  but  to  apply  some 
camphorated  oil  to  the  welts  on  his 
thin  .shoulders.  "You  see,"  he  ex- 
plained, twisting  his  wet  little  face  at 
the  smart,  ""sire  got  me  to-night  'cause 
this  time  1  couldn't  yell  loud  enough 
to  stop  her,  like  I  mostly  do.  Td  have 
waked  up  the  boarders,  and  that  would 
have  shamed  poor  motherer  awful." 

It  was  during  the  next  season  when 
I  was  stin  at  the  old  stand,  and  the 
Brandishes    playing    in   another    and 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

distant  city,  that  one  day  the  manager 
received    a    telegram    asking    tersely: 
"Have  you  seen  my  Johnnie  in  Co- 
lumbus ? 

Jane  Brandish." 
And  this  again  was  followed  by  the 
message  from  a  brother  manager. 

'^ Spare  no  expense — fear  for  little 
chap's  mind.  Ran  away,  perhaps  after 
Indians — hunt  up  former  hoy  chums. 
Thin<^s  bad  here. 

R.  M." 
We  were  all  shocked — all  sympa- 
thetic. I  gave  the  names  of  Patsy 
(irogan,  Blindy  Pete  and  big  Jim 
Moran;  but  their  aristocratic  ad- 
dresses were  unknown  to  me.  I  could 
do  no  more. 

Next  day  Hattie,  my  roommate,  and 
I  sat  in  sad  silence  in  our  dull  boarding- 
house  room,  glooming  over  the  missing 
boy  and  his  frantic  mother.  I  heard 
a  tap  on  the  door  and  a  possibility 
flashed  in  my  mind.  I  opened  the  door 
very  quietly,  and  there  in  the  dingy 
hall,  poised  on  one  foot,  the  other 
extended  ready  for  an  instant  flight, 
stood  little  Jack  Brandish.  With  one 
swift  glance  he  swept  first  the  room 
beyond,  then  turning  to  me  gave  a 
little  startled  gasp  and  shrank  violently 
away.  But  my  hand  was  on  his 
shoulder,  while  I  laughed:  "No,  Jack, 
no  you  don't  !  Draggle-tail  dresses 
have  not  changed  me  one  bit  !  But 
come  in  from  this  freezing  hall  and  let 
us  talk  awhile;  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you  !" 
When  I  had  drawn  him  into  the 
better  lighted  room,  his  appearance 
shocked  me.  So  I  had  to  turn  my  face 
aside  to  wink  away  the  tears,  while  he 
rather  stiffly  received  the  greeting  of 
Hattie,  who  at  once  donned  hat  and 
cloak. 

"WTiere's  she  going  ?"  he  asked 
suspiciously,  as  he  tried  to  edge 
toward  the  door.  "To  the  theater  ?" 
"Oh,  no,"  responded  Hattie,  lightly, 
"I'm  only  going  down  to  Bains,  to  try 
to  match  this  ribbon,"  and  she  snipped 
a  bit  off  a  piece  lying  on  the  table. 

As  she  left  I  sprang  after  her  and 
under  cover  of  a  laughing  wrangle 
alx)Ut  her  habit  of  leaving  the  door 
open,  "Find  the  manager — send  him 
quick,  but  tell  him  not  to  let  Jack  know 
I  sent  for  him."  Then  I  closed  the  door 
and  turned  to  find  my  guest  almost 
holding  the  small  sto\'e  in  his  arms  in 
his  eagerness  fo^  warmth;  for  the  cold 
seemed  to  have  penetrated  the  very 
marrow  of  his  quaking  little  body.  As 
I  busied  myself  mending  the  fire,  I 
asked:  "WTiatever  brought  you  to 
Columbus,  Jack  ?" 

"Oh, "said  he,  passing  a  chapped  and 
inflamed  hand  across  his  brow  in  a 
careless  man-about-town  manner,  "I — 
er,  I  just  came  up  to  see  the  boys  and 
enjoy  a  little  skating." 

A  lump  rose  in  my  throat,  for  his  fair 
hair,  decently  smoothed   in  front,   at 


the  back  treacherously  betrayed  him, 
as  there  were  tangled  in  it  wisps  of 
straw  and  hay.  Poor  little  runaway  ! 
Turning  to  me,  he  said,  'You  used 
to  know  lots  of  things !  I  want  to  know 
if  the  men  lied  to  me  the  other  night, 
riding  along  in  the  caboose;  they  said 
that  the  wild  Indians  of  the  plains 
were  farther  away  from  Columbus 
than  Columbus  is  from  Cincinnati — - 
but  that's  a  bounder,  ain't  it  ?" 

"No,  I'm  afraid  not,  Jack.  The 
Indians  are  days  and  nights  farther 
away  to  the  West,  and  besides  they  are 
not  wild;  there  are  only  tame  Indians 
now." 

"Who  tamed  'em — Sunday-school 
teachers  ?" 

"No,  not  exactly.  Uncle  Sam's 
soldiers  labored  with  them  earnestly, 
and  his  cavalry  is  still  coaxing  them  to 
keep  off  the  war  path,  and  do  a  little 
farming." 

"Have  they  stopped  destroying  the 
gently  nurtured  white  women  with 
babes  in  their  arms  ?" 

I  tried  not  to  smile  as  I  recognized 
that  speech  from  a  wretched  border 
drama. 

"Yes,  the  gently  nurtured  are  per- 
fectly safe  now." 

"Well,  it  they've  cut  out  the  war 
dance,  the  scalps,  and  the  slaughter  of 
women  and  babes,  why,  that  busts 
up  the  Indian  business,  and  I  s'p)ose  it 
doesn't  matter  so  much  about  Blindy 
Pete  being  a  back-down  and  turncoat. 
Why,  last  season  he  wouldn't  ever  let 
me  rest,  he  was  so  crazy  to  go  hunt  red- 
skins. He  wanted  me  to  hook  two 
coon-skin  caps  from  the  property  man, 
and  said  he'd  rip  the  fringe  all  off  the 
window  shades,  so  we  could  sew  it 
down  our  breeches  legs,  like  hunters  do. 
And  he  stole  his  father's  hatchet  for  a 
tomahawk,  and  his  mother  licked  him 
for  trying  to  take  a  blanket  for  us  to 
sleep  in.  And  then  when  I  come  back 
here,  all  leady  to  go  West  with  him,  he 
began  to  back  down  !" 

As  he  had  talked  I  noticed  how  he 
had  pressed  first  one  arm  and  wrist,, 
then  the  other,  hard  across  his  stomach, 
moving  restlessly  in  his  chair.  Then 
at  a  smell  of  cooking  coming  from  the 
kitchen,  he  ceased  speaking  and  there 
was  a  quivering  about  his  colorless  lips 
that  aroused  a  certain  suspscion  in  me 
— yet  I  dared  not  speak  out  plainly, 
lest  he  should  take  sudden  fright. 
Instead,  I  asked: 

"Have  vou  seen  anyone  besides 
Blindy  Pete  yet  ?" 

"Well,  I  went  over  to  big  Jim 
Moran's  house" — he  paused. 

"Yes  ? — he  was  rather  a  decent  boy. 
You  saw  him  ?" 

"N-n-no.  not  to  speak  to.     I  looked 

in  at  the  window,  and   they  were  all 

just  sitting  down  to  supper,  and — (his 

voice    sank    very    low^)— and     I    was 

Continued  on  page  34l. 


HE  ¥OMAN  OF  IT 

^  oAIan  cAdair 


c/Tuthor  of  "THE  APOSTACV  OF  JULIAN  FULKE 


Illustrated  ^hy 
K^thcrina  Sonthzoick 


SYNOPSIS. 

This  novel  of  English  society  opens  with  a  prologue  showing  Robert  Sinclair  as  a  boy  in  Rome.  He  angers  his  father,  a  cashiered  captain,  by 
wanting  to  become  a  singer,  and  is  brutally  beaten.  Mother  and  son  leave  Rome  that  night,  the  boy  regretting  only  his  parting  with  his  playmate, 
Denzil  Merton. 

The  scene  changes  to  London.  Lord  Merton  is  giving  a  box  party  at  the  opera  for  the  family  of  a  Canadian  railway  man,  with  whose  daughter, 
Valerie  Monro,  he  is  deeply  in  love.  When  the  new  tenor  who  is  to  make  his  premier  in  the  role  of  the  Knight  Lohengrin  comes  on,  Merton  recc^- 
nizek  him  as  his  boyhood  friend,  Robert  Sinclair.  Valerie  is  strangely  impressed  by  the  tenor  but  chides  herself  for  being  as  silly  about  him  a* 
the  other  women  of  the  party.  Merton  tells  her  he  it  going  to  call  on  Sinclair  the  next  day,  which  he  does,  and  finds  Sinclair  eager  to  renew  their 
boyish  acquaintance.  Merton  tells  him  that  Valerie  wants  to  meet  him,  but  he  laughs  and  intimates  the  Lohengrin's  armour  has  dazzled  her  a 
yttle.  Merton  disclaims  this,  saying,  "She  is  not  like  that,"  and  when  Mrs.  Monro  sends  the  singer  a  card  for  her  next  ball,  Merton  persuades 
him  to  accept.  Valerie  perversely  snub*  him.  Later  in  the  evening  a  lighted  candle  falls  on  her,  and  Sinclair  puts  out  the  fire,  burning  his  hands. 
Valerie  attempts  to  thank  him,  and  ends  by  a  gust  of  hysterical  tears  which  washes  away  the  coldness  between  them.  They  start  afresh  on  their 
acquaintanceship,  and  she  invites  Sinclair  to  come  and  see  them.  However,  their  next  meeting  is  at  the  Duchess  of  Northshire's  musicale, 
where  Sinclair  is  a  lion.  She  promises  him  three  dances  at  Lady  Merton's  ball.  Feeling  intuitively  that  Merton  will  ask  her  to  marry  him, 
■be  tells  herself,  "To-night  I  will  be  happy.  After  that,  the  deluge  !"  She  coquettes  with  Sinclair,  and  provokes  him  until  at  last  he  takes  her 
in  his  arms,  and  admits  that  he  loves  her.  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away,  saying,  "There  is  Denzil,  my  friend — and  yours."  She 
tells  him,  "He  will  ask  me  to  marry  him,  to-night.  What  shall  I  say  to  him  ?"  Sinclair  grips  her  by  the  shoulder  and  says  fiercely:  "You  aren't 
going  to  marry  him  !  Do  you  hear  me  ?"  Then,  coming  to  himself,  he  puts  her  away.  He  will  not  take  Denzil's  beloved  away  from  him,  and  he 
tells  Valerie  he  loves  her  too  much  to  marry  her,  that  he  would  not  make  her  happy,  that  he  loves  his  work  more  than  any  woman.  Valerie 
cannot  understand  this  altogether,  but  he  forces  her  to  accept  the  fact  that  he  will  not  marry  her;  and  later  in  the  evening  she  accepts  Denzil. 
When  Sinclair  reaches  home,  his  father  is  asleep  in  his  rooms,  having  come  to  beg  for  money  on  the  strength  of  the  fact  that  he  is  the  next  heir 
to  the  baronetcy  of  Abbott's  Wood,  and  Sir  Fulke  Sinclair  is  a  very  old  and  feeble  man.  His  son  settles  two  hundred  pounds  a  year  on  him,  and 
tells  him  that  it  is  only  on  condition  that  the  captain  never  show  his  face  near  his  son  again,  never  write  to  him  or  communicate  with  him.  The 
elder  Sinclair  consents,  borrows  all  the  gold  the  son  has  in  his  pockets  at  the  moment,  and  goes  off  with  a  pitiful  attempt  at  jauntiness,  leaving  the 
young  man  alone.  Valerie,  as  Denzil's  fiancee,  goes  with  the  Mertons  to  Barranmuir,  for  the  shooting.  After  much  persuasion,  Sinclair  comes  for 
a  few  days,  and  is  shocked  to  find  how  thin  and  white  Valerie  has  grown.  Diphtheria  breaks  out  in  the  village,  and  Denzil  is  anxious  about  her, 
but  she  laughs  it  off.  Captain  Sinclair  turns  up,  and  demands  more  money  from  his  son,  which  Robert  refuses  to  give.  In  a  rage,  the  captain 
threatens  to  ask  Lord  Merton  for  a  loan.  Meantime  Valerie,  noticing  that  Robert  is  amused  by  pretty  Dolly  Brent,  believes  that  he  is  falling 
in  love  with  her,  and  cannot  endure  it.  She  meets  him,  and  for  a  moment  both  lose  their  control  over  themselves.  He  takes  her  in  his  arms, 
and  kisses  her  passionately,  but  swiftly  realizes  his  treachery  to  Denzil,  and  sends  her  back  to  the  house.  As  he  waits  in  the  coppice  for  the 
shooting  party  to  come  up,  he  hears  something  or  somebody  stealing  off  through  the  woods,  and  it  suddenly  comes  to  him  that  perhaps  it  is  his  father. 
He  is  right,  for  the  captain,  after  a  vain  attempt  to  get  money  from  Denzil,  spits  out  the  story  of  their  meeting  in  the  coppice.  Shielding 
Valerie,  Robert  tells  Denzil  that  he  has  always  loved  her,  but  that  she  is  indifferent  to  him,  and  decides  to  leave  Barranmuir  the  next  day, 
saying  to  himself  that  he  will  never  come  back. 


CHAPTER  XV.— Continued. 
His  heart  contracted  at  the  words. 
Valerie's  only  safety,  and  his  own,  lay 
in  his  keeping  away  from  her.  But  he 
was  a  simple  soul,  though  a  great 
singer,  and  it  hurt  him  keenly  to  think 
of  leaving  Denzil  and  I^dy  Merton. 
They  were  like  brother  and  mother  to 
him,  and  his  friends  were  few.  Yet 
he  never  questioned  that  he  must  cut 
himself  off  from  them.  "There  must 
be  no  half-measures,"  he  told  himself. 
"Have  I  not  got  enough  ?"  Yet  his 
heart  ached  in  spite  of  his  philosophy, 
as  hearts  have  a  way  of  doing.  He 
walked  on  swiftly — he  was  in  the 
village  now — looking  carefully  about 
him  lest  his  father  should  step  out  of 
one  of  the  houses  and  accost  him.  At 
this  moment  he  felt  that  he  could  not 
bear  a  meeting  with  the  captain. 


Two  figures  some  distance  ahead  of 
him  were  the  only  ones  in  sight,  and 
after  a  second  glance,  he  noted  that 
they  were  Denzil  and  Valerie.  He 
could  catch  the  characteristic  swing  of 
her  free  walk.  It  was  raining  briskly 
by  this  time,  and  they  were  walking 
rapidly;  but  at  his  pace  he  gained  on 
them  nevertheless,  and  he  checked 
himself.  What  was  he  to  do  ?  He 
could  not  pass  them  nor  walk  beside 
them.  Besides,  he  did  not  want  to 
obtrude  himself  upon  them  after  his 
talk  with   Denzil  this  morning. 

Suddenly  the  rain  changed  its  tempo, 
and  from  a  steady  patter  became  a 
driving  pour.  Valerie  and  Denzil  took 
shelter  under  the  porch  of  a  cottage. 
Sinclair  saw  no  other  way  of  escape 
than  to  ask  for  shciier  in  one  of  the 
cottages  near  by. 


A  woman  opened  the  door  to  him 
when  he  knocked.  She  looked  untidy 
and  as  if  she  had  been  crying.  VVlien 
he  asked  her  if  he  might  take  shelter 
out  of  the  rain,  she  said  doubtfully, 
"If  you  want  to." 

"Just  for  a  few  moments,"  he  ex- 
plained. 

She  still  stood  by  the  door,  looking 
at  him  in  a  perplexed  way,  and  then 
her  perplexity  found  voice. 

"My  little  girl  is  ill,"  she  ex- 
plained. 

"Is  she  ?  I'm  sorry,"  said  he  sym- 
pathetically. "What  is  wrong  with 
her  ?     Have  you  had  the  doctor  ?" 

"It  is  this  catching  complaint  in 
the  throat,"  said  the  woman.  "We 
were  to  be  very  careful  not  to  lot 
strangers  or  any  one  from  the  great 
house  come  in." 

329 


330 

He  understood  now  why  she  had 
seemed  so  inhospitable. 

"I  am  staying  at  the  great  house," 
he  said,  "but  I  will  not  go  near  the 
child.  It  will  not  hurt  if  I  stay  here 
by  the  window,  will  it  ?  I  don't  think 
I  could  carry  any  germs  away  with  me." 

"We  were  told  not  to  let  anyone  in," 
said  the  woman  again.  "However, 
sir,  I  told  you." 

"Yes,  you  warned  me,"  he  reassured 
her.  "I  will  stay  only  a  few  moments 
until  the  rain  ceases  a  little." 

At  the  window  he  kept  a  wary  eye 
on  Valerie  and  Denzil,  and  when  he 
saw  them  gather  up  their  umbrellas 
and  move  away  from  their  shelter  in 
the  porch  he  followed  them  at  a  dis- 
tance. 

He  wondered  how  the  day  had 
passed     with     them.     Whatever     had 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

happened,  they  seemed  on  their  usual 
terms  now.  Valerie  had  thrust  her 
hand  through  Denzil's  arm,  so  that 
his  umbrella  was  sheltering  her,  a 
thing  which  must  have  been  irksome 
to  her  as  she  was  much  taller  than  he. 
But  she  did  it  as  she  did  many  things 
with  the  thoroughness  and  courage 
that  characterized  her. 

The  day  had  left  its  mark  on  Denzil 
and  Valerie  had  asked  him  once  or 
twice  if  he  were  quite  well.  He  had 
remained  in  the  study  for  about  an 
hour  after  Robert  had  left  him, 
shattered  by  the  emotion  that  he  had 
gone  through.  Then  he  had  captured 
his  mother  and  asked  Lady  Merton 
to  beg  of  Valerie  to  go  out  with  him 
that  afternoon  instead  of  the  morning 
— he  had,  he  told  her,  a  great  deal  to 
do. 


"DENZIL  WOULD  NEVER  WEAR  ANYTHING  YOU  KNITTED,      SAID  LADY  MERTON. 
WANT  TO  PUT  II  INTO  A  CLASS  CASE" 


"'IJE  WOULD 


After  lunch  he  was  able  to  meet  her 
almost  as  usual  and  they  walked. 
Valerie  electrified  him  by  saying,  "I 
want  to  go  to  Japan,  Denzil — we  were 
going  this  year,  you  know,  so  you  will 
have  to  take  me  instead  of  father  !" 

"I  will  take  you  to  the  ultimate 
ends  of  the  earth,"  he  said. 

"I  know,"  she  laughed,  "but  Japan 
will  do.  When  are  you  going  to  leave 
this,  Denzil  ?" 

"Why  ?"  he  asked,  "are  you  tired 
of  Barranmuir,  Valerie  ?" 

"No,  I  could  not  be  tired  of  it — but 
I  want  to  have  a  month  or  so  quietly 
with  Dad.  You  cannot  tell  how 
much  I  am  to  him  !" 

"Can't  I  ?"  he  asked  in  an  amused 
tone  of  voice. 

"No,  you  can't.  You  see,  you  love 
me  in  a  different  fcishion.  I  am  just 
the  woman  to  you.  Dad  sees  in  me 
only  the  little  girl,  grown  up,  but  still 
rather  wilful  and  naughty." 

"I  often  wonder  what  sort  of  a  little 
girl  you  were  !" 

"Horrid,"  she  said.  "Now  you 
know,   Denzil  !" 

He  laughed  and  she  laughed  and 
they  walked  on  under  the  one  umbrella. 
Denzil  felt  a  sense  of  peace  and 
security  creep  over  him.  Nothing  had 
happened  after  all.  This  morning  he 
had  thought  to  see  Hell  open  under 
his  feet  and  now  he  knew  that  it  had 
all  been  a  mistake.  True,  he  knew 
that  Robert  loved  Valerie,  but  then 
so  many  men  must  do  that  !  And 
somehow  Denzil  did  not  believe  that 
it  was  in  his  friend  to  care  very  deeply 
for  any  woman. 

"He  is  different  from  the  rest  of  us," 
he  said  to  himself,  "he  has  his  voice 
and  his  art — and  I  have  Valerie  !" 

So  gradually  the  effects  of  this 
morning's  scene  wore  away  and  he 
could  laugh  when  she  told  him,  that 
she  had  been  a  horrid  little  girl. 

"It  seems  a  long  time  ago,"  she 
said,  breaking  upon  his  quiet  musing. 

"That  you  were  a  little  girl  ?" 

"That  I  was  a  girl  at  all  !  In  fact  it 
seems  a  long  time  since  I  saw  Dad. 
Denzil,  tell  me  how  long  do  you  intend 
to  stop  up  here  this  autumn  !" 

"I  want  to  see  the  people  through 
this  epidemic  of  diphtheria,  first,"  he 
said,  "and  we  must  begin  rebuilding 
at  once — those  cottages,  you  know, 
whose  plans  you  liked—"  and  then  he 
began  to  talk  to  her  of  details. 

That  was  just  the  delightful  part  of 
her — she  was  such  a  good  companion. 
Everything  interested  her,  really — but 
when  they  had  finished  talking  techni- 
calities she  said,  "But,  do  you  know, 
you  have  not  really  told  me  when — 
and  I  have  to  get  my  little  bits  to- 
gether !" 

"Your  little  bits  ?" 

She  laughed.  "Mother  has  decided 
that  no  one  shall  have  more  fascinating 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


331 


I 


I 


garments  than  I  when  I  am  your  wife, 
Denzil,"  she  said. 

"My  dearest,"  he  said.  To  hear 
her  talk  of  herself  as  his  wife  was 
exquisite. 

"Father  is  back  in  London,"  she 
went  on,  "and  as  I  am  so  soon  to  leave 
him  altogether,  I  feel  I  ought  to  go  to 
him." 

"Very  well,  we  will  go  in  ten  days' 
time." 

In  ten  days'  time,  Robert  Sinclair 
would  have  gone  to  Paris,  but  Denzil 
did  not  think  of  this.  When  Denzil 
trusted,  he  trusted  thoroughly.  There 
was  no  niggardliness  about  him. 

So  it  was  settled  between  them  that 
in  ten  days  they  should  go  to  London 
together.  Valerie  was  still  feeling  more 
at  peace  with  the  world  than  she  had 
done. 

To-night  would  be  the  last  time 
they  would  sit  at  one  table,  would  be 
under  one  roof-tree.  Robert  was  going 
out  of  her  life  for  good  and  all.  Lady 
Merton  had  never  been  a  patroness  of 
opera — neither  had  Valerie,  as  a  usual 
thing.  Therefore  it  was  unlikely  that 
they  would  see  him  often,  even  on  the 
stage. 

She  was  seated  next  to  Denzil  as 
usual — and  opposite  Sinclair.  But 
she  did  not  steal  a  look  at  him  until 
nearly  the  end  of  dinner  and  then  his 
pallor  rather  appalled  her.  He  was 
certainly  looking  shockingly  ill — and 
she  dared  not  betray  the  slightest 
interest  in  him. 

"It's  cruel,  cruel,"  she  said  to  her- 
self.    "I  can't  bear  it  !" 

When  they  had  reached  the  draw- 
ingroom,  she  came  up  to  where  Lady 
Merton  was  seated  and  sat  down 
beside  her.  Lady  Merton  took  up 
her  knitting.  She  generally  knitted 
in  the  quiet  half  hour  after  dinner 
before  the  business  of  the  evening 
began.  "You  will  have  to  do  this, 
presently,"  she  said  to  Valerie,  holding 
up  an  unfinished  silk  sock  which  she 
was  knitting  for  Denzil. 

"You  will  have  to  teach  me,"  said 
Valeric,  who  was  not  at  all  proficient 
in  any  form  of  needlework. 

Lady  Merton  laughed.  "I  don't 
believe  it  would  be  any  good,"  she 
said.  "Denzil  would  never  wear  any- 
thing you  knitted — he  would  want  to 
put  it  into  a  glass  case  !" 

Valerie  laughed  too.  "I  think  on 
the  whole  it  would  be  wiser,"  she  said. 
"I  don't  believe  I  could  produce  a 
sock  that  would  be  wearable." 

"I  knitted  some  for  Bob,  too,"  said 
I-idy  Merton. 

Valerie  saw  her  opportunity.  "Don't 
you  think  Mr.  Sinclair  looks  shock- 
ingly ill  ?"  she  said. 

"He  tokl  me  he  felt  chilly  before 
dinner,"  aaid  Lady  Merton.  "It  is  a 
nuisance  for  him — he  is  always  afraid 
of  his  throat.     Lady  Killoe  is  hoping 


SHE  HAD  SEEN  HER  LAST  OF  ROBERT  SINCLAIR,  AHD  SHE  FELT  AS  IF  HER  HEART  ttVST  BREAK 


that  he  will  sing  again,  but  I  don't 
think  he  has  any  such  intention.  He 
is  leaving  to-morrow  morning  early  !" 

Valerie  made  no  reply,  but  began 
playing  with  her  rings.  Lady  Merton 
looked  at  her  in  a  dissatisfied  way.  "I 
tell  you  what  it  is,  Valerie,"  she  said, 
"your  father  and  mother  will  be  down 
on  me.  You  have  grown  shockingly 
thin,  child — your  hands  are  like  claws!" 

Valerie  laughed,  "Poor  little  things!" 
she  said,  holding  one  out.  "What  an 
unkind  thing  to  call  them.  Denzil 
never  calls  them  that  !" 

"I  dare  say  not — but  he  is  distressed 
at  your  thinness.  He  worries  over  it. 
I  shall  be  glad  when  you  two  are 
married  and  he  can  wrap  you  in  cotton- 
wool if  he  likes  I" 

"I  shall  protest,"  said  Valerie. 

But    that    was   what    he,    or    rather 


what  marriage,  would  do  for  her.  She 
would  be  wrapped  in  cotton-wool,  so 
that  she  would  not  see  or  feel  or  hear. 
"I  shan't  die  of  it,"  she  said  to  herself 
grimly.  "My  body  will  live  on — my 
soul,  too.  For  he  is  too  good  a  fellow 
and  too  noble  to  stifle  me.  Some  day 
when  we  have  been  married  quite  a 
long  time,  I  shall  tell  him  about 
Robert." 

And  then  the  men  came  in — but  not 
Robert.  Denzil  asked  her  whether 
she  would  come  and  tell  Colonel  San- 
days  something  about  a  hotel  in 
Montreal  that  she  knc\v^  and  she 
stayed  talking  in  the  little  drawing- 
room  until  it  was  time  to  separate  for 
the  night. 

"I  shan't  see  Robert  again,"  she 
said  to  herself.  "Never  again,  never 
again — he  will  not  wish  me  good-bye  f 


i 


332 

That  would  not  be  like  him.  He  would 
rather  have  me  believe  that  he  does 
not  care." 

But  as  she  crossed  the  hall  on  her 
way  to  the  staircase,  she  saw  him  with 
Lady  Merton  and  Uenzil.  Denzil 
detached  himself  from  the  other  two. 

"Valerie,"  he  said.  His  voice  was 
quite  grave.  "Come  and  wish  Robert 
good-bye,  he  is  going  early  to-morrow 
morning." 

He  had  schooled  himself  to  say  those 
-words  quite  evenly,  quite  quietly. 
His  generous  heart  had  revolted  from 
the  idea  that  his  friend  should  not 
have  an  opportunity  of  saying  good- 
bye to  the  woman  he  loved.  Of  course 
he  was  quite  ignorant  that  saying 
good-bye  would  cost  Valerie  any 
thing. 

"Very  well,"  she  said,  and  went  back 
with  him  to  where  Sinclair  and  Lady 
Merton  were  standing. 

The  good  lady  was  giving  advice. 
"You  ought  not  to  go.  Bob,"  she  said, 
"and  you  ought  to  keep  yourself  warm. 
Take  a  hot  drink  in  bed  to-night. 
How  will  you  like  it,  if  you  get  to 
Paris  and  cannot  sing  a  note  ?" 

"I  shan't  like  it  at  all,"  he  was  say- 
ing. 

And  then  Valerie  came  up.  She  held 
out  her  hand,  "Good-bye,"  she  said. 
"Good-bye,  Mr.  Sinclair.  I  wish  you 
all  manner  of  success  !" 

"And  I  wish  you  all  manner  of 
happiness,"  he  said  gravely.  "I  think 
you  will  have  it,"  he  added. 

"Yes,"  she  said  lightly,  "and  I  am 
sure  you  will  have  all  manner  of  suc- 
cess— good-bye — are  you  not  coming 
to  carry  my  candle,  Denzil  ?"  For 
that  was  the  manner  in  which  Denzil 
used  to  cloak  his  desire  to  wish  his 
beloved  good-night  without  any  on- 
lookers. But  his  heart  ached  for  his 
friend — the  man  who  loved  and  was 
not  beloved. 

"You  spoke  quite  flippantly,  Valerie", 
he  said  to  her. 

"Did  I  ?"  she  asked  and  looked  at 
him.  If  he  could  only  have  guessed 
one  hundredth  part  of  what  she  was 
suffering,  when  she  touched  Robert's 
hand.     It  had  been  burning  too. 

"Yes,  you  sounded  so — you  did  not 
mean  to,  sweetheart,  but  I  know  he 
feels  saying  good-bye  to  all  of  us." 

"He  is  only  going  to  Paris  !" 

"But  we  shall  be  married  and  gone 
before  he  comes  back.  Valerie,  you 
don't  mind  my  saying  this  ?  Heaven 
knows,  it  is  not  that  I  want  to  make 
myself  a  judge  !  You  are  always  per- 
fect, dearest  !" 

"Of  course  I  don't  mind.  Good-night, 
Denzil  !" 

He  kissed  her  as  he  always  did,  with 
passion  and  wonder  that  he  should  be 
allowed  to  touch  her  at  all  and  she 
went  slowly  up  the  staircase.  Just  at 
the   angle,    she    looked    back    as    she 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

always    did.     It    was    a    little    thing, 
but  she  knew  he  loved  it. 

But  when  she  got  into  her  room, 
her  self-command  gave  way.  "I  shall 
never,  never  see  him  again,"  she  said 
to  herself.-  "He  goes  out  of  my  life 
to-morrow,  but  he  will  never  go  out 
of  my  heart.  Why  is  he  so  pale,  ■  I 
wonder,  and  his  hand  so  hot  ?  Is  it 
because  he  is  leaving  me,  or  is  there 
any  other  reason  ?  Somehow,  I  feel 
that  he  is  ill."  She  lay  tossing  all  that 
night,  hardly  sleeping  at  all  and  always 
waking  with  the  sense  of  some  unhappy 
coming  thing,  from  which  she  could 
not  escape.  The  slow  dawn  came 
creeping  in  stealthily  as  if  ashamed 
of  its  sober  grey  coloring.  The  dawn 
was  ushering  in  the  day  upon  which 
love  was  to  go  out  of  her  existence  ! 
She  rose,  wrapped  herself  in  a  warm 
gown  and  seated  herself  by  the  window. 

There  was  a  sound,  a  movement  in 
the  house.  Early  travellers  had  to  be 
expedited.  Lady  Merton's  servants 
were  always  well  up  to  their  work. 
After  that,  the  motor  snorted  up  to  the 
foot  of  the  terrace,  and  then  after  a 
little  waiting,  Denzil  appeared  in  his 
motor-coat.  He  was  going  to  drive 
Robert  to  the  station,  then. 

Valerie  retreated  behind  the  blind 
and  hated  herself  for  doing  it.  She 
could  see  although  she  could  not  be 
seen.  She  wanted  to  look  at  Robert 
once  more — only  once  more  1  He 
seemed  a  long  time  coming.  Then 
suddenly  he  came  and  she  could  see 
his  crisp  short  curls  round  his  motor- 
cap.  He  held  his  head  down,  though, 
and  he  did  not  walk  as  briskly  as 
always.  He  seemed  to  drag  himself  a 
little. 

Valerie  held  her  hand  tightly  against 
her  heart  to  stop  its  wild  beating.  In 
this  grey  light,  Robert  looked  a  wreck. 
Either  he  was  ashy  pale  or  it  was  the 
light.  She  could  see  too,  that  there 
was  sympathy  on  Denzil's  face.  But 
it  was  not  Robert — the  Robert  who 
had  walked  through  life  so  triumphant- 
ly, so  blithely,  who  crept  into  that 
car  !  The  only  thing  that  was  like 
him  was  the  fact  that  he  never  once 
looked  up  although  he  must  have 
known  which  was  her  window. 

And  then  the  motor  began  to  vibrate 
and  in  another  moment  it  had  driven 
off,  past  the  coppice,  where  he  had 
clasped  hei"  in  his  arms,  and  so  from 
view.  She  had  seen  her  last  of  Robert 
Sinclair  and  she  felt  as  if  her  heart  must 
break  ! 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  house  seemed  dead  to  Valerie 
that  day;  and  every  one  in  it,  lifeless. 
Robert  had  gone  and  her  heart  felt 
like  lead  in  her  bosom.  It  was  an 
effort  to  smile,  even  to  speak — that 
grey  face  of  his  haunted  her.  Why 
had   he,   her   knight,   her   bright  and 


chivalrous    knight,  worn    that    look  ? 

Denzil  too  was  quieter  than  he 
ordinarily  was.  His  tender  heart  was 
touched  by  the  thought  of  Robert's 
loneliness,  by  the  knowledge  that  he 
loved  hopelessly  the  one  woman  in  the 
world. 

But  all  this  had  to  be  kept  in  the 
background.  It  was  only  on  the 
third  morning  after  his  departure,  that 
Lady  Merton  commented  on  the  fact 
that  she  had  not  heard  from  him. 

"Give  him  time,  mother,"  said  Den- 
zil, "It  was  only  three  days  ago  that 
he  left  us.  It  takes  the  whole  day  for 
him  to  get  to  London  and  a  whole  day 
for  the  letter  to  reach  us.  There  is 
only  one  day  not  accounted  for." 

"Yes,  but  the  boy  looked  ill,"  said 
Lady  Merton. 

Denzil  made  no  remark.  He  had 
knowledge,  which  his  mother  had  not, 
of  quite  sufficient  reason  why  Robert 
should  look  ill.  Before  he  could  speak, 
he  was  startled  by  an  exclamation 
from  Valerie. 

"What  is  it  ?"  he  asked — she  was 
sitting  beside  him  tr>'ing  to  make  him 
believe  that  she  was  eating  breakfast. 

"Dad  has  met  with  an  accident — 
sprained  his  ankle  rather  badly,  he 
says.  Mother  is  away,  staying  with 
Lady  Fustle  and  organizing  a  big 
suffrage  or  antisuffrage  meeting — dad 
says,  he  can  never  remember  at  the 
time,  which  she  is.  He  wants  me,  I 
think."- 

"Does  he  say  so  ?"  asked  Denzil. 
His  face  had  fallen. 

"Not  in  so  many  words— dad  never 
does — but  he  says  the  days  are  long. 
I  must  go  to  him — to-morrow.  It  is 
too  late  for  me  to  get  ready  to-day." 

"I  suppose  you  must,"  he  said 
reluctantly. 

She  smiled  as  she  turned  to  him. 
"It  will  only  be  for  a  few  days,  will  it 
not  ?"  she  asked.  "You  will  becoming 
to  London  soon  ?" 

"Yes,  I  think  we  have  got  the 
epidemic  under.  There  are  a  few 
isolated  cases,  that  is  all.  It's  all 
owing  to  Moffat,  too.  He  is  a  splendid 
doctor." 

"I  think  a  little  of  it  is  due  to  your 
prompt   measures,"   said   Valerie. 

"My  measures  !  I  did  nothing  ! 
Not  half  as  much  as  I  should  like  to 
have  done,  for  they  are  my  people,  you 
know.  Valerie,  how  shall  I  get  through 
the  days  without  you  ?" 

"I  don't  know.  You  will  get 
through — somehow"  she  said  in  a  low 
voice.  She  was  thinking  of  these  last 
three  days,  that  she  had  got  through 
"somehow."  She  was  only  half  alive 
it  is  true — but  that  half  had  emerged. 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  said  disconsolately, 
"and  you  will  write;  and  I  can  write 
to  you." 

There  was  some  little  compensation 
in  that.     When  with  her,  he  often  felt 


that  he  could  not  say  the  thousand 
and  one  things  that  he  wanted  to. 
On  paper  he  could  give  rein  to  his 
heart. 

So  the  next  morning  he  drove  Valerie 
to  the  station  and  put  her  into  the 
train,  taking  all  the  care  that  a  very 
precious  thing  requires.  Valerie,  who 
had  been  accustomed  to  being  inde- 
pendent and  to  looking  after  herself, 
did  not  know  why  she  did  not  resent 
this  ultra  care  and  fussiness.  The  fact 
remained  that  she  did  not — and  that 
at  parting  her  face  reflected  some  of 
the  pain  on  his. 

"Take  care  of  yourself — keep  well — 
and  don't  forget  me,"  he  cried  to  her 
as  the  train  steamed  out.  She  leant 
out  of  the  window  as  far  as  she  could, 
leaving  her  hand  in  his,  until  the 
movement  of  the  train  parted  them. 
He  touched  her  so  horribly.  As  he 
stood  there  in  his  big  motor  coat  from 
which  his  little  face  emerged  rather 
grotesquely,  there  was  nothing  in  him 
to  fascinate  any  woman.  And  yet  he 
stood  to  Valerie  for  solid  goodness  and 
manliness  and  with  all  his  rather  fussy 
care  of  her  he  never  got  on  her  nerves. 

She  never  remembered  the  details 
of  that  journey  south.  Perhaps  she 
slept — anyhow  she  dozed .  She  seemed 
to  see  Robert  before  her  often.  She 
was  going  to  be  nearer  him.  The 
papers  would  tell  her  of  his  move- 
ments, but  in  a  confused  way  she  had 
got  it  in  her  head  that  some  one  had 
said  he  was  ill. 

She  felt  strangely  excited  when  she 
reached  London  and  found  their  own 
chauffeur  waiting  for  her  at  the  station. 

"The  master  told  me  to  say  that  he 
was  sorry  he  could  not  come,  Miss,"  he 
said. 

She  nodded  and  jumped  in.  Her 
maid  would  see  to  the  luggage.  There 
was  a  big  bunch  of  violets  lying  on  the 
seat  opposite,  with  her  father's  writing 
on  a  piece  of  paper.  "Greetings  to 
Valerie  from  Jonathan"  he  had  written. 

She  grew  impatient  to  see  him  as 
soon  as  she  saw  his  handwriting  and 
the  motor  had  scarcely  stopped  when 
she  sprang  out  and  was  tip  the  steps. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Monro  ?"  she  asked 
the  man  who  opened  the  door  to  her. 

"In  tiie  study,  madam,"  said  the 
butler  officiously.  "You  know  that 
Mr.  Monro  can't  abide  the  Louis 
Fourteenth  rooms." 

Sf)mcthing  quaint  in  his  tone  made 
Valerie  laugh.  She  did  not  know  why 
her  father  should  have  any  particular 
feeling  of  hatred  against  the  Louis 
the  I'Ourteeiith  period,  but  she  was 
willing  to  believe  it.  She  found  the 
millionaire  lying  on  a  comfortable, 
ugly,  leather  couch  of  the  early  Victor- 
ian period  with  which  he  was  evi- 
dently at  peace.  The  room  was  full  of 
tobacco-smoke.  It  was  thus  she  recog- 
nised her  Jonathan. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

And  when  she  made  her  way  through 
the  untidy  heaps  of  books  and  papers 
to  the  sofa  and  felt  her  father's  arms 
round  her,  she  felt  that  she  had  come 
home. 

"Oh  dad,  dad,"  she  said  and  a  sob 
broke  from  her. 

He  held  her  to  him  and  patted  the 
sleeve  of  her  fur  coat. 

"Come,  come,  child,"  he  said,  "and 
then  he  added,  "I  am  not  really  bad, 
you  know." 

She  freed  herself  from  his  arms,  look- 
ed at  him  and  shook  her  head.  "It 
is  not  that,"  she  said  and  two  large 
tears  slowly  rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

He  looked  at  her  quietly  for  a  long 
time.  "You  are  unhappy,  Val,"  he 
said.     "I  have  known  it  all  the  time  !' 

"How  ?" 

"By  your  letters  that  have  never 
told  me  anything.  I  have  never  seen 
you  in  any  word  you  have  written." 

"No,"  she  whispered.  "I  did  not 
dare  let  you  see  me." 

"But  I  would  have  done  something. 
I  would  not  have  allowed  it  !" 

"You  can  do  nothing,  Jonathan," 
she  said  striving  to  speak  lightly, 
"there  is  nothing  to  be  done,  Denzil 
is  happy,  and  Robert  would  not  marry 
me  if  he  could.  Sometimes,  I  think 
that  he  does  not  want  to  enough." 

"You  mean  he  does  not  love  you  ?" 

"He  loves  me  as  much  as  he  can 
love  any  woman — but  he  loves  his 
voice  more.  I  don't  mean  that  he  has 
the  artistic  temperament  —  because  I 
don't  believe  he  has.  But  he  loves 
his  life,  I  think — "  She  broke  off  and 
then  burst  out  suddenly,  "Dad,  I  am 
sore  all  over,  because  I  think  he  can 
live  without  me  and  I  live  so  badly 
without  him.  I  am  sore  too,  because 
he  seems  to  put  Denzil  and  his  honor 
before  me.  He  has  never  understood 
quite  what  he  is  to  me." 

"Perhaps  not  Valerie,  his  manner 
of  loving  you  is  just  the  man's  way  and 
you  are  a  woman." 

"I  suppose  so,"  she  said  sadly. 

"Then  all  is  at  an  end  between  you 
and  Denzil  ?" 

"At  an  end  ?  No  indeed  !  I  am 
fonder  of  him  than  ever  !  I  shall  never 
have  that  feeling  for  him  that  I  have 
for  Robert.  Oh  dad,  you  don't  know, 
you  don't  know  I  It  is  the  feeling  of 
horrible,  deathless  pain  and  of  utter 
ecstatic  joy,  so  great  that  it  too  is 
deathless — oh,  I  am  a  fool,  am  I  not?" 

"Are  you  ?"  he  asked.  "I  suppose 
I  like  fools." 

"Denzil  has  been  so  good,  that  I 
have  not  seemed  to  have  missed  you," 
she  said  after  a  pause.  "Some  day 
when  we  have  been  married  a  long 
time  I  shall  tell  him— about  Robert. 
I  shall  never  feel  at  peace  until  I  have 
told  him  !" 

"Where  is  Sinclair  now  ?" 

"In  London,  I  think,  on  his  way  to 


333 

Paris.     I    shall   never  see   him   again 
dad.     We  have  said  our  good-bye  !"^ 

"That  is  well,"  said  Martin  Monro. 
He  was  moved  by  Valerie's  story.  She 
had  left  the  leather  couch  and  was 
kneeling  by  the  fire,  holding  out  her 
hands.  She  was  cold  and  very  tired. 

"Val,  you  have  changed,"  he  said. 

"I  know — I  am  no  longer  pretty  1" 

He  laughed.  "You  are  lovely,"  he 
said,  "but  you  look  older,  and  thinner. 
You  have  found  your  womanhood,  I 
think  !" 

She  nodded.     "That  is  it,"  she  said. 

She  was  kneeling  by  his  side  and  he 
was  holding  her  hand  in  his.  He 
looked  at  it  with  whimsical  concern. 
"It  is  too  thin,"  he  said. 

"Not  so  pretty  as  it  was  ?"  Valerie 
had  never  made  any  pretence  of  not 
loving  her  beauty. 

"No,"  he  said  definitely. 

Then  there  was  a  pause  and  he  sat 
up  on  the  couch  and  looked  at  her. 

"Val,"  he  said,  "I  can't  bear  it. 
You  may  have  the  courage — but  I 
have  not.  I  can't  bear  to  see  you 
shorn  of  anything.  I  can't  bear  that 
you  should  go  through  life  with  its- 
light  dimmed." 

His  deep  eyes  were  looking  at  her, 
but  his  weak  mouth  was  strangely 
tremulous.  Valerie  did  not  answer 
for  a  moment  and  when  she  did  her 
voice  was  strangely  calm. 

"Dad,"  she  said,  "how  do  you  know, 
that  after  all,  that  which  has  happened 
to  me,  is  not  the  best  for  me  ?  Do  you 
think  it  hurts  one  to  suffer  a  little  when 
it  is  the  right  thing  ?  If  I  cannot  be 
as  gay  as  I  was,  I  can  at  least  feel  at 
peace,  and  I  can  rest  in  Denzil's  love. 
Dad,  I  was  not  meant  to  be  dazzlingly, 
radiantly  happy — it  is  not  in  me. 
Robert  himself  gives  me  more  pain 
than  joy.  Can  you  understand — when 
I  am  with  him  there  seems  always  to 
be  a  closed  door  which  I  cannot  open. 
And  sometimes,  I  have  a  horrible 
feeling  that  if  I  did  open  it,  there 
would  be  nothing  behind — that  is, 
nothing  that  would  content  me." 

"You  may  be  right,"  he  .said. 

.^nd  that  evening  spent  with  her 
father  and  the  next  day,  when  she 
and  he  were  alone  together  never  quite 
faded  from  Valerie's  memory.  She 
could  talk  to  him  straight  from  her 
heart — as  she  could  have  talked  to 
Denzil,  if  there  had  been  no  Robert. 
Denzil's  letters  when  they  came  satis- 
fied her  entirely.  They  were  so  like 
himself,  so  passionate  and  so  loving, 
yet  it  was  always  the  letter  of  the 
adoring  to  the  adored.  She  wrote  to 
him  in  return,  long  letters  reflecting 
her  peace  and  content,  but  letting  him 
see  that  he  was  necessary  to  her. 

"Your  mother  is  coming  home  in 
three  days,"  Martin  said  to  his 
daughter  when  she  had  been  with  him 
two  days 


334 

"Is  she  ?  What  has  become  of  Miss 
Searle  ?     Is  there  a  new  Miss  Searle  ?" 

"Miss  Searle  has  too  good  a  memory! 
She  will  remember  that  your  mother 
was  an  "anti"  once  and  a  suffragist 
now — or  is  it  the  other  way  about, 
Val  ?  However  it  is,  she  is  not  adapt- 
able enough  for  your  mother.  There 
has  been  found  a  new  Miss  Searle,  who 
is  called  Jones,  who  is  equally  precious 
to  your  mother.  We  had  a  very  good 
time  together,  though  !  We  were  just 
plain  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Munro  and  we 
had  a  sort  of  wedding-tour  when  we 
led  the  simple  life.  And  we  both 
enjoyed  it  !  I  insisted  that  her  maid 
should  have  a  holiday." 

"Poor  mother  !  How  did  she  get  on?" 

"I  think,"  said  Martin,  looking  into 
the  fire  as  if  he  saw  pictures  in  it,  "that 
she  rather  liked  my  doing  everything 
for  her.  Of  course  her  hair  was  not 
quite  so  elaborately  done,  but  she 
looked  all  the  prettier,  I  think." 

Valerie  looked  at  him.  There  was 
a  revelation  of  intimacy  in  those  few 
words.  She  had  always  known  that 
her  father  and  mother  loved  each 
other,  but  this  brought  it  home  to  her 
as  nothing  else  could  have  done. 

"Did  you  love  her  very  dearly  when 
you  married  her  ?"  she  asked. 

"As  Denzil  loves  you.  I  loved  her 
passionately." 

A  pause  and  then  Valerie  asked  in  a 
whisper,  "And  she  ?" 

"She  loved  me  as  well  as  she  could. 
In  marriage,  Val,  there  is  always  one 
who  gives  the  most." 

"Yes,"    said    the   girl    thoughtfully. 

She  had  never  thought  of  herself  as 
Robert's  wife,  but  it  came  to  her  that 
if  she  had  married  him  it  would  have 
been  she  who  would  have  given  the 
most,  and  as  she  wanted  to  give — to 
spend  herself  in  giving,  she  knew  where 
her  loss  would  be  in  her  marriage  with 
Denzil.  She  would  always  be  the  one 
who  would  receive  most  ! 

She  drove  out  that  day  and  began  to 
do  some  shopping  and  then  came  back 
and  dressed  herself  in  her  prettiest 
evening  dress  to  please  her  father.  It 
was  one  that  she  had  had  made  to  go 
to  Barranmuir,  a  soft,  clinging  pale 
green  with  iridescences  of  pearl  round 
her  lovely  shoulders.  The  dress  gave 
her  something  of  the  look  of  a  sea- 
nymph.  Martin  had  never  seen  it 
before. 

"That's  pretty,  Val,"  he  said. 

"Denzil   likes   it,"   she  answered. 

"No  wonder."  He  looked  at  her 
whimsically  "Val,  you  seem  made  for 
costly  garments.  Everything  you 
wear,  your  furs,  your  laces,  and  your 
jewels  seem  as  if  they  had  been  created 
on  purpose  for  you — yet  when  your 
mother  and  I  married,  she  had  never 
had  a  silk  dress  !  Lord,  I  remember 
the  pride  with  which  I  gave  her  her 
first  !" 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"I  can  imagine  it,"  said  the  girl — • 
she  always  encouraged  her  father's 
reminiscences. 

His  man  came  and  wheeled  him  in  to 
dinner  and  after  dinner,  he  had  him- 
self taken  back  to  the  ugly  study  which 
he  loved  better  than  any  other  room 
in  the  house.  She  seated  herself  on  a 
stool  by  the  fire  at  his  side  and  the 
room  was  beginning  to  fill  with  tobacco- 
smoke,  when  suddenly  a  bell  pealed 
through  the  house. 

Val  looked  up.  "Who  can  that  be  ?" 
she  asked.  "We  are  not  supposed  to 
be  in  town,  are  we  ?" 

"Some  one  in  a  hurry,"  said  Martin, 
for  the  bell  pealed  again. 

"Who  can  it  be  ?"  Valerie  turned 
pale  and  held  her  breath  to  listen. 
She  knew  by  some  strange  instinct, 
that  some  evil  thing  had  happened  and 
that  it  had  something  to  do  with 
Robert. 

"They  have  opened  the  door,"  said 
Martin — he  had  seen  the  look  on 
Valerie's  face. 

She  strained  her  ears  and  hearcf 
nothing  until  the  footman  knocked  at 
the  door.  Then  she  rose  from  her 
stool  and  straightened  herself.  What- 
ever it  was,  she  would  meet  it  standing 
up.  Monro,  too,  sat  up  and  the  foot- 
man coming  in,  impassively  faced  the 
questioning  gaze  of  two  pairs  of  eyes. 

"Lord  Merton  is  below  and  would 
like  to  see  you,  madam,"  he  said  to 
Valerie. 

She  turned  to  her  father  "It  is 
Robert,"  she  breathed. 

It  seemed  to  her  afterwards  as  if 
invisible  wings  carried  her  dow^n  the 
stairs,  for  she  remembered  nothing 
until  she  felt  the  grasp  of  Denzil's 
hands  on  hers  and  looked  at  his  white, 
tearstained  face. 

"Val,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "you  must 
come,  my  darling." 

"Come  ?"  she  asked.  "Where  do 
you  want  me  to  go,  Denzil  ?" 

"Robert  is  dying,"  he  said  hoarsely. 
She  gave  a  cry  that  startled  him. 
"Dying  ?"  she  asked.  "Dying  ?  My 
God,  not  that  !" 

"He  is  dying,"  he  repeated,  "and 
you  must  go  to  him  !  You  must. 
Valerie,  you  never  knew  it,  but  he 
loves  you  !" 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment — 
her  eyes  were  full  of  a  horrible  remorse. 
"I  did  know'it,  Denzil,"  she  said  under 
her  breath.  "I  have  known  it  always 
— and  Denzil,  forgive  me,  forgive  me, 
but  I  love  him,  too — have  always 
loved  him  !  Take  me  to  him,  my 
dear  !" 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Denzil  stared  for  a  moment  as  if  he 
did  not  understand.  "You  love  him," 
he  repeated.     "You  !     You  !" 

"Take  me  to  him,"  said  the  girl. 

He  looked  at  her  still  in  that  vague 


fashion.  He  did  not  understand.  It 
seemed  as  if  for  the  moment,  he  could 
not  think  of  anything  but  Robert. 

"Let  us  go,"  she  said.  "Don't  let 
us  lose  a  moment,  Denzil." 

Then  for  the  first  time  comprehen- 
sion seemed  to  come  to  him.  "You, 
you  !"  he  said  to  her,  "you  love  him. 
Val,  what  does  it  mean  ?" 

"It  means  that  Robert  is  dying," 
she  answered.  "Does  anything  else 
matter  now  ?" 

"No,"  he  said  dully,  "come,  dear." 

He  put  his  hand  through  hers.  At 
the  contact  with  her  bare  arm  he 
shivered  and  looked  round.  "Ring 
for  a  wrap,"  he  said.  "You  must  not 
take  cold."  He  himself  sank  down 
on  a  chair  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands.     Valerie  pealed  at  the  bell. 

"My  cloak,"  she  said  breathlessly, 
"and  be  quick  !" 

The  maid  ran  in  and  Valerie  thrust 
her  arms  into  its  sleeves. 

"I'm  ready,  Denzil,"  she  said  and 
held  out  her  hand  for  him  to  take. 
He  walked  unsteadily,  but  she  piloted 
him  and  when  they  had  reached  the 
motor,  he  was  himself  again. 

"Drive  to  Hanover  Square  as  quickly 
as  you  can,"  he  said,  and  jumped  into 
the  motor  after  Valerie.  She  did  not 
even  notice  that  he  did  not  sit  by  her 
side. 

Neither  of  them  spoke  a  word.  The 
houses  and  the  people  seemed  to  fly 
past  them — it  was  like  the  swift  move- 
ment that  one  has  in  a  dream.  Denzil 
could  not  have  spoken.  Agony  itself 
was  dead  for  him.  Only  there  came  to 
him  four  words  which  hammered 
themselves  incessantly  on  his  brain, 
"Robert  dead,  Valerie  lost."  He  did 
not  articulate  them,  but  he  heard 
them  all  the  while. 

Valerie's  white  face  was  set  and 
stern.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  was 
travelling  for  hours — surely  it  was 
hours  ago,  that  she  had  first  heard 
that  Robert  was  dying  ?  She  could 
have  asked  no  question — what  did  it 
matter  what  the  cause  of  it  all  was  ? 
Robert  was*  dying  and  the  sun  was 
going  out  of  a  world  which  should  be 
bereft  of  him  ! 

"He  is  in  there,"  said  Denzil,  when 
they  had  climbed  the  stairs.  Into 
the  long,  bare  room  with  its  marble 
bust  and  its  picture  of  his  dead  mother, 
they  had  taken  Robert.  The  bed  was 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  They  had 
brought  him  here  for  more  air  and 
greater  space,  so  that  he  might  breathe 
the  more  easily.  The  disease  that  had 
attacked  him  had  been  dealt  with,  but 
the  antitoxin  that  had  been  given  him 
had  been  too  much  for  his  heart.  He 
lay  there  now,  gasping,  breathless, 
with  the  mark  of  death  stamped  on  his 
beautiful  young  face.  He  looked  up 
as  he  heard  the  door  open.  The  room 
Continued  on  page  356. 


The  Love  of  Man 

DID  YOU  EVER  HAVE  A  REAL  FRIEND— A  FRIEND  THAT  WOULD  CINCH 

HIS  BELT  TIGHTER  TO  STOP  THE  GNAWING  AND  GIVE  YOU 

HIS  LAST  STRIP  OF  MEAT  ?    THIS  IS  THE 

STORY  OF  SUCH  AN  ONE 

By  T.  A.  Tefft 


THE  sick  man,  who  lay  in  the 
comer  of  the  stuffy  room, 
groaned  and  raised  himself  upon 
his  elbow. 

"Lizette  !  Lizette  !"  he  called  in  a 
thin,  querulous  voice. 

A  woman  of  the  Black- 
feet  tribe,  who  sat  by  the 
fireplace  staring  into  the 
flames,  turned  her  stolid 
face  upon  the  sick  man. 

"Here  I  am;  what  do 
you  want  ?"  she  answered, 
speaking  the  tongue  of 
her  people.  "Do  you  want 
some  more  broth  ?" 

"No,  no,"  whined  the 
man  weakly  fixing  his 
sightless  white  eyeballs 
upon  the  woman.  "  'Tain't 
grub  I'm  hungry  for.  You 
know  it  ain't  grub".  I 
want  some  of  my  own 
people.  It  ain't  that  I'm 
not  satisfied  with  you, 
Lizette.  You've  stuck  to 
me  like  a  good  dog,  and 
I've  used  you  hard.  God 
knows  I  ain't  complaining 
about  you.  But  I  ain't 
for  long  now,  and  I've  got 
some  things  to  say  to  a 
white  man  l>efore  I  snulT 
out.  What's  that  ?  Is  the 
sun  shining  ?" 

"It's  night,"  said  the 
woman.  "  That's  only  the 
firelight  on  your  face." 

"Night!"  whimpered  the 
man  whom  fever  had  weak-  ' 
ened.  "Night  I  O  hell,  it's 
been  night  for  a  year  al- 
ready !  Ain't  it  ever  going 
to  get  day  again?  Lookout- 
side,  Lizette,  and  tell  me 
if  there  ain't  a  thin  white 
streak    over  in  the  east." 

"Night  has  just  fallen,"  said  the 
woman;  "you  know  you're  blind." 

The  man  groaned  again  and  dropped 
back  among  the  furs.  The  heavy 
silence  of  a  mid-winter  night  in  the 
wilderness  came  back  into  the  room 
— like  a  palpable  thing — and  the 
woman  went  on  staring  into  the  flames. 


Illustrated  by  C.  L.  Baldridge 

"Lizette  !"  called  the  sick  man  at 
length.  "Did  you  sure  enough  tell 
your  people  that  passed  here  bound  for 
Brasseau's  to  send  a  Blackrobe  up  and 
see  me  through  ?  Did  you  sure  tell 
'em  ?" 


traveler.  The  Blackrobe  ought  to  be 
here  now.  Go  outside,  Lizette,  and 
look  off  southeast  toward  Brasseau's." 

The  woman  got  up  and  went  out. 

"Was  any  one  coming  ?"  whined  the 
sick  man,  when  the  woman  re-entered. 


"VOU'VE  COME  AT  LAST,  FATHER  !"  UK  GASPED. 
SEEMS   LIKE    . 


"I'VE  BEEN  A-WAITIN°  AND  A-PRAVIN'  rOK  YOU, 
YEAR    now" 


"I  told  them." 

"Do  you  think  they'll  forget  ?" 

"One  .was  my  kinsman;  he  will 
remember." 

The  man  raised  himself  feebly  and 
sat  up. 

"It's  four  days  now,  ain't  it  ?  And 
it's  only  two  to  Brasseau's  for  a  good 


"Did  you  hear  the  crunching  of  snow- 
shoes  ?  Tell  me  what  you  saw  and 
heard." 

"Heaped  snow  under  the  sharp 
stars,"  replied  the  woman,  "and  a 
coyote  trotting  on  the  ridge." 

She  sat  down  before  the  fire  again 
and   stared   stolidly  into   the   flames. 

S3S 


336 

After  a  long  lapse  of  silence  the  man 
spoke  again. 

"You  don't  give  a  damn  !"  he  cried 
peevishly  to  the  woman.  "When  I 
snuflF  out  you'll  just  scoop  out  a  hole 
and  dump  me  in  and  pack  off  my  stufif 
to  your  people  !" 

"My  people  do  not  groan  when  they 
suffer." 

"But  it  ain't  the  fever  nor  the  blind- 
ness, Lizette,"  went  on  the  man  in  the 
thin  voice.  "I'm  a  ha'nted  man  ! 
That's  why  I  ain't  game.  Did  you  ever 
hear  me  whine  before  ?  I  used  to  could 
drive  'em  away  and  laugh  'em  down; 
but  I  know  I  ain't  for  long  now,  and  the 

damned     ha'nts     has     got    me         

down — Lizette  !"  ' 

With  a  spasmodic  effort  he 
lifted  himself  to  his  elbow.  A 
faint  sound  of  crunching  and 
whining  as  of  snowshoes  on 
the  crusted  snow  came  in 
from  the  great  starlit  silence 
outside. 

"The  Blackrobe!"  he  cried. 
"Quick,  now,  Lizette!  Throw 
open  the  door  !  Don't  you  hear 
the  snowshoes  ?" 

The  woman  had  risen  and 
stood  listening.  She  went  to 
the    door    and    threw  it    open. 

The  great  muffled  bulk  of 
a  man,  with  his  face  veiled 
in  the  fog  of  his  own  breath, 
muttered  a  word  of  greeting 
and  heaved  through    the   door-  - 

way.  With  a  glad  cry  the 
siclf  man  tried  to  get  up,  but 
fell  back  exhausted  with  his 
effort. 

"You've  come  at  last. 
Father,"  he  gasped.  "I've 
been  a-waiting  and  a-waiting  ,  '< 
and  a-praying  for  you,  seems 
like  a  year  now !  And  you'll  ; 
see  me  through,  and  I  can 
die  easy.  You  come  from 
Brasseau's  ?" 

The  newcomer,  keeping  his 
face  hidden  in  the  shadow, 
removed  his  great  mackinaw  coat, 
took  off  his  snowshoes  and  stood 
against  the  wall.  Then  he  sat  down 
on  a  bench  beside  the  sick  man,  tak- 
ing the  limp,  feverish  hand  in  his. 

"I  came  all  the  way  from  Bras- 
seau's," he  said,  "to  see  you  through. 
The  Blackfeet  people  told  me." 

"Thank  God  for  it.  Father,"  said  the 
sick  man.  "But  you've  walked  far, 
and  you're  hungry." 

"I've  eaten,"  said  the  newcomer 
quietly.    "What  would  you  say  to  me?" 

"I'm  ha'nted,  Father,"  began  the 
sick  man,  clutching  the  big  hand  that 
held  his.  "I'm  ha'nted,  and  I'm  about 
to  pass  in.  Maybe  it's  the  fever — but 
—did  you  ever  see  ghosts,  eh  ?  Ever 
since  my  gun  busted  and  spit  powder 
in  my  eyes  and  made  me  blind,  I've 
been  a-seeing  'em  plainer  and  plainer  ! 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

Been  seeing  nothing  else  day  and  night. 
And  then  the  fever  come  and  the  ha'nts 
got  mc  down;  and  I'm  scart  to  be 
awake  and  scart  to  go  to  sleep;  'cause 
when  I  sleep  they  chase  me  through 
millions  of  miles  of  nothing  till  I  wake 
up  all  in  a  sweat.  O  God,  if  dying  was 
only  going  sound  asleep,  I  wouldn't 
care.  Do  they  foller  a  man  when  he's 
dead — the  ghosts  ?" 

"It's  only  because  you're  sick," 
said  the  stranger  soothingly.  "It's  the 
fever.  There  isn't  any  such  things  as 
ghosts." 

"But  ain't  I  seen  'em.  Father  ?  Oh, 
it  ain't  with  your  eyes  that  you  see 


"it's  only  because  you're  sick."  said  the  stranger, 
"it's  the  fever" 

'em.  It's  when  you're  blind;  and  then 
all  the  damned  mean  things  you  ever 
done  turn  into  ghosts  and  dance  about 
you  and  poke  their  bony  fingers  into 
your  brain  and  laugh  till  you're  well 
nigh  crazy  with  'em." 

"Tut,  tut,"  said  the  stranger,  strok- 
ing the  hot  brow  of  the  man. 

"Oh,  let  rt}e  talk.  Father;  they  sort 
of  grow  dim  when  I  talk.  I've  done  a 
heap  of  mean  things  in  my  life.  Guess 
every  man  does  'em.  But  there's  one 
bigger'n  all  the  rest."  He  breathed 
heavily  for  some  time,  while  the 
stranger  kept  silence. 

"Did  you  ever  have  a  real  friend, 
Father  ?"  he  continued.  "A  friend 
that'd  cinch  his  belt  tighter  to  stop  the 
gnawing  and  give  you  his  last  strip  of 
meat  ?  I  knowed  a  friend  like  that. 
His  name  was  Jules  Vau.x.     Big  man 


he  was,  outside  and  in.  A  big  lover 
and  a  big  hater  he  was;  and  them's 
always  good  men.  You  can  tie  to  'em. 
Saved  my  life  in  the  Aricara  fight. 
Packed  me  on  his  back  a  whole  day 
once,  when  I  got  a  hard  fall  up  in  the 
Teton  country;  and  it  was  bad  snow- 
shoeing,  too. 

"Used  to  call  me  ']a.m{e,  my  boy' — 
just  like  that,  soft  like.  And  I  used  ta 
call  him  'Dad,'  'cause  he  was  old  enough 
for  that  and  watched  after  me  like  as  if 
I  was  his  own.  O  God,  if  I  could  only 
hear  him  call  me  that  again,  just  like  he 
used  to  ! 

"You're  a  better  hand  at  praying 
than  me.  Father.  Takes  prac- 
tice. Won't  you  pray  hard  for 
me  and  tell  'em  up  there  to  tel! 
him  what  I  said  ?  Won't  you, 
Father  ?  Tell  'em  to  tell  him 
I  said,  'If  he  could  only  call 
me  "Jamie"  again.'  Won't 
you  ?" 

The  stranger  moved  uneasily. 
"Yes,  yes,"  he  said. 
"That's  right,"  went  on  the 
sick  man;  "hold  my  hand  tight 
like  that.  I  don't  feel  scart 
when  you  hold  my  hand  like 
that. 

"We  was  in  the  Aricara  fight 
together,  me  and  Jules.  And 
after  that  we  went  with  Henr>''s 
men  on  the  Yellowstone  trip. 
You  mind  when  that  was,  Father 
— seven  years  ago  last  fall.  I 
says  to  him:  'Dad,  I'm  going 
along  with  Henry.'  .'^nd  says 
he:  '  So'm  I,  Jamie,  my  boy, 
so's  to  look  after  you  a  bit.' 
That's  the  way  he  was — always 
looking  after  me. 

"He  was  a  dead    shot,  and 

so  he  signed  with  Henry  for  a 

hunter.     And  one  day  he  was 

going  ahead  of  the  party  look- 

I  ing  for  game,  when  he  come  up 

on  a  grizzly   all   of   a   sudden. 

And  when  we  come  up,  there  he 

was  on  the  flat  of  his  back  and 

the  bear  a-standing  over  him  growling. 

.'\nd  when  we  shot  the  beast  and  went 

to  Jules,  I  saw  something  that'll  foller 

me  all  the  way  through  hell  !     He  had 

his    knife    tight    in   his  big  right  fist. 

Not    having    time  to    shoot,    he    had 

fought   with   that    like   the    man    he 

was.     My  heart  seemed  broke. 

"And  his  face  !  O  God  !  All  the 
ghosts  that  ha'nt  me  has  got  that  face  ! 
The  bear's  paw  had  swiped  down 
across  it  and  took  off  the  nose  and 
ripped  up  the  cheeks.  His  head  looked 
like  a  chunk  of  fresh  bull  meat,  and  one 
of  his  legs  went  wobbly  when  you 
lifted  it. 

"But  he  wasn't  dead.  Men  like  him 
don't  die  easy.  But  we  could  see  that 
he  was  done  for.  Breathed  snatchy 
and  kind  of  sobbed  when  he  breathed, 
like  a  man  that's  run  a  long  ways. 


Surgeon  said  he  couldn't  live  through 
it.  But  all  that  night  he  went  on 
a-wrastlin'  with  death  and  trying  to 
live.  And  all  the  next  night  he  went 
on,  scrapping  for  every  mouthful  of 
wind  he  got  and  a-muttering  cuss 
words  like  he  always  did  when  he  was 
fighting  mad. 

"So  Henry  gave. me  three  men,  and 
the  four  of  us  was  to  stay  behind  until 
the  old  man  did  what  he  was  going  to 
do.  Three  days  and  nights  went  past, 
and  every  minute  of  the  time  we 
thought  his  next  breath'd  be  his  last. 
And  then  the  others  began  to  grumble 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

about  taking  the  old  man  so  long  to  die, 
and  the  party  getting  further  away 
all  the  time.  'He  can't  live  through 
it,'  they  said.  'Can't  you  see  he's 
done  for  ?  We  might  just  as  well 
go  on  !' 

"But  I  wouldn't  listen  to  'em.  O 
God,  I  wish  I  hadn't  listened  to  'em  ! 
And  then  another  day  went  round, 
and  another  night;  and  still  the  old 
man  hung  right  onto  the  ragged  edge 
and  wouldrf't  let  loose.  And  then  the 
others  said :  'We'll  wait  one  day  more. 
It's  foolish  to  stay  in  the  Indian  coun- 
try for  the  sake  of  a  dead  man.    Ain't 


337 

four  live  men  worth  more  than  a  dead 
one  ? 

"I  was  weak,  and  so  I  agreed  I'd  go 
in  one  more  day.  But  when  the  time 
had  come,  the  old  man  was  still  hang- 
ing onto  the  raw  edge,  though  he  was 
quieter — just  like  they  get  before  they 
let  go.  So  we  covered  him  up  with  his 
blanket  and  took  his  gun  and  his 
fixin's  and  moved  on  after  the  main 
party. 

"It  was  like  tearing  my  heart  out  to 
do  it;  but  I  done  it.  For,  after  all,  it 
did  seem  like  the  others  was  right. 
Continued  on  page  379. 


De'ils  to  Fecht 

By  John  Patrick  Mackenzie 


"A' 


ULD  BONEY  micht  tak' 
Proosia— ay,  or  e'en  Roosia; 
but  he'll  ne'er  tak'  Scotland, 
for  they  Munroes  are  de'ils 
to  fecht." 

Peggy's  hearers  all  laughed,  as  they 
usually  did  whenever  she  spoke — as 
much  at  her  concise  humour  as  at  her 
broad  Doric. 

Like  all  Highland  Scots  of  the 
younger  generation,  they  prided  them- 
selves on  speaking  English  as  it  is  spoken 
in  England,  but  it  is  an  open  question 
whether  they  or  Peggy  really  spoke 
the  truer  Anglo  Saxon. 

A  well-meaning  man  has  recently 
published  what  he  calls  "a  translation 
of  Robert  Burns'  poems  from  the 
Keltic  dialect  into  English."  Far 
from  having  anything  Keltic  about  it, 
any  Ayrshire  man  will  tell  you  that 
Bums'  spoken  and  written  language 
was  purer  English  than  is  now  used  in 
England.  And  Peggy  came  from 
Ayrshire. 

They  were  in  the  parish  schoolhouse 
at  the  annual  cockfight.  The  school- 
master, worthy  man,  elder  of  the  kirk 
and  skilled  physician,  presided,  robed 
in  scholastic  camlet  gown. 

While  his  parish  alone  was  left  to 
observe  this  ancient  custom,  he  main- 
tained to  his  dying  day  that  the 
bravery  inculcated  by  these  combats 
still  persisted  throughout  the  land  and 
gave  the  nation  its  fighting  spirit;  s<} 
his  colleagues  of  the  kirk  session 
refrained  from  enforcing  the  ban  which 
the  kirk  had  placet!  upon  the  practise 
and  awaitefj  his  passing  away  for  its 
final  aljolition. 

The  birds  were  brought  by  the 
scholars,  and   "Munro's  boy's"  game 


cock  was  winning.  "Munro's  boy" 
was  son  of  the  hereditary  chief  of  that 
clan  and  his  youthful  clansmen  sat  by 
his  side,  eager-eyed  and  bent  on  win- 
ning; and  their  evident  joy  in  victory 
inspired  Peggy  Maxwell's  remark. 

Peggy  had  come  to  Rosshire  a  mere 
child.  Her  family's  presence  in  the 
fertile  valley,  where  Sandy  Maxwell's 
thorough  farming  was  a  continual 
marvel  to  his  Keltic  neighbours,  was 
due  to  the  public  spirit  of  the  landlord, 
Munro  of  Strathconnan,  who  had 
brought  the  Lowland  family  to  his 
estate  to  demonstrate  the  possibilities 
of  the  soil-  However,  the  original 
inhabitants,  whose  progenitors  regard- 
ed agriculture  as  a  side  issue  and  pre- 
ferred marauding  as  a  steady  occupa- 
tion, contented  themselves  with  dis- 
interested admiration  and  held  to  the 
ways  of  old. 

If  tenure  of  the  land  had  depended 
upon  fitness  to  work  it,  then  the  land- 
hungry  "Sassenach"  had  possessed  it 
ages  ago:  but  the  forbidding  Gram- 
pians and  the  fighting  spirit  of  the 
natives  had,  so  far,  saved  the  region 
from  the  fate  of  the  Southland. 

The  cockfight  ended  in  a  complete 
victory  for  "Munro's  boy."  •  Peggy 
was  accompanied  to  her  home  by 
Duncan  Ross,  to  whom  she  said  at  the 
door  in  parting,  "Ay,  I'll  meet  ye  at 
the  fire  the  nicht." 

As  she  entered  the  cottage,  her 
father,  who  was  seated  at  the  table, 
brought  down  his  fist  with  a  mighty 
bang  and  exclaimed,  "Ye'll  no  gang 
to  ony  heathen  cantraps  the  nicht. 
A  thousan'  years  o'  Chreesteeaunity 
hasna  eeradeecated  paganism  frae  the 
hearts  o'  these   Hieian'men.    Saycree- 


fices  o'  bulls  to  Mourie,  ane  o'  their 
heathen  gods,  hae  been  offered  in  the 
Hielan's  in  oor  times,  an'  noo  they 
wad  dare  tae  pass  thro'  the  fire  to 
Baal  !" 

It  was  generally  whispered  about, 
that  a  terrible  ancient  rite,  was  to  be 
revised  in  mild  form  and  a  "devoted" 
person,  selected  by  lot,  was  to  leap 
through  a  bonfire  three  times  as  a 
symbolic  sacrifice.  In  ancient  days, 
such  a  ceremony  had  been  performed 
in  honour  of  one  "Baal"  to  ensure  the 
harvest,  which  was  now  endangered 
by  unfavourable  weather.  Some  held 
that  it  was  as  justifiable  a  proceeding 
as  the  celebration  of  the  heathen 
Norse  festival  of  yule-tide  under  the 
name  of  Christmas,  while  others 
insisted  that  it  was  Baal-worship  pure 
and  simple.  By  the  young  people  it 
was  regarded  as  a  lark,  but  their  elders 
took  it  quite  seriously,  whether  in 
favour  or  opposed. 

"The  cursed  fools  !"  exclaimed  the 
hard-headed  Maxwell.  "They  wad 
mak  it  oot  tae  be  a  Chreestian  ceer- 
eemo<my,  wad  they  ?  Dinna  they  ken 
that  the  Lord  gies  success  tae  him  wha 
works  for  it,  an  doesna'  deelight  in 
saycreefices  an'  burnt  offerings  ? 

"I'll  warrant  ye  I'll  hairvest  a  crop 
the  year — an'  for  why  ?  Juist  a  maitter 
o'  deep  culteevation,  the  lazy  eejits  !" 

Peggy  said  nothing — but,  "though 
feyther  an'  mither  an'  a'  should  gae 
mad,"  slipped  quietly  away  after  even- 
ing prayers  to  meet  her  lad. 

The  circle  around  the  fire  in  the 
darkness  was  a  weird  sight,  but  the 
sensible  Saxon  maiden  took  no  interest 
in  the  doings.  She  was  intent  upon 
a  matter  of  greater  importance  to  her 


338 

than  the  outcome  of  the  crop,  and,  as 
for  ancient  customs,  they  meant  noth- 
ing to  her. 

Duncan  Ross  had  declared  his  inten- 
tion of  enlisting  on  the  following  day, 
when  a  body  of  recruits  was  to  march 
to  join  Wellington's  army,  and  it  was 
to  dissuade  him  that  she  had  disobeyed 
her  father  for  the  first  time. 

"Young  Munro,"  an  elder  brother  of 
the  boy  who  had  won  the  cockfight, 
was  to  lead  them. 

Some  of  the  most  impressionable  of 
his  hot-headed  clansmen  were  btghi- 
ning  to  shout  the  inflammatory  Munro 
slogan,  "Castle  Foulis  ablaze  !"  which 
recalled  the  ancient  rallying  signal — • 
the  beacon  fire  of  the  clan.  Though 
this  did  not  carry  any  direct  appeal  to 
a  Ross,  Peggy  was  having  all  she  could 
do  to  hold  her  Duncan.  Time  was 
when  the  Munroes  had  marched  side- 
by-side  with  the  Rosses,  a  thousand 
claymores  strong,  under  the  Earls  of 
Ross,  and  strange  stirrings  of  the  old, 
wild,  glorious  days,  lurking  in  his 
blood,  were  thrilling  him  through  and 
through.  Since  the  line  of  the  chiefs 
of  his  clan  had  failed,  what  better  than 
to  serve  in  the  ranks  of  their  hereditary 
allien  ? 

"Margaret,  I  am  no  farmer  nor  ever 
will  be,"  he  said.  "Let  me  go  to  the 
war  and  I'll  come  back  to  you  a  general 
yet."  For  had  not  Highland  men  done 
as  much  before  ? 

"I'll  tak  ma  chances  wi'  you,  Dun- 
can," Peggy  replied.  "Stay,  an'  I'll 
marry  ye  an'  teach  ye  how  to  earn  an 
honest  living.     Promise  me  noo." 

"Well,  I  will,  Margaret,"  said  Dun- 
can, after  a  long  silence.  "But  I  fear 
you  have  undertaken  a  big  contract." 

And  they  sealed  it  with  a  kiss. 

The  bagpipes  skirled  and  a  hundred 
stalwart  highlanders  marched  away, 
bravely  clad  in  that  beautiful  crimson 
blaze  shot  with  azure,  gold,  purple  ; 
the  Munro  tartan,  which  an  enthusi- 
astic Gaelic  poet  must  have  had  in 
mind  when  he  penned,  in  utmost  des- 
cription of  a  glorious  sunrise,  the  lines 
translated,  "Every  dye  that's  in  the 
tartan  o'er  it  grew." 

With  their  pipers  playing  "Munro's 
March,"  they  swung  into  Liverpool  in 
as  good  order  as  when  they  started 
out,  and  were  snapped  up  at  once  and 
mustered  into  the  Forty-Second  Regi- 
ment. 

But,  alas  !  for  poor  Young  Munro's 
dream  of  glory,  the  "food  for  powder" 
was  too  good  a  sample.  The  general 
in  command  wanted  more  such  mater- 
ial, and,  seeing  that  many  of  the 
recruits  had  but  little  English,  packed 
him  back  home,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  he  h&d  been  in  action  with  the 
Rossshire  Fencibles  at  Vinegar  Hill  in 
Ireland. 

"Never  mind  about  that,"  he  said 
when  Young  Munro    tried   to  explain 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

that  he  was  quite  a  veteran.  "We 
have  plenty  of  officers  who  are  willing 
to  stand  up  and  be  shot,  and  too  many 
of  them  will  be  before  we  settle  Boney  ; 
l)Ut  such  recruiting  officers  are  hard  to 
find.  Send  me  more  men  like  those 
you  have  brought.  You  can  speak 
Gaelic.  Go  back  and  take  a  captain's 
commission  with  you." 


sides,  and  all  was  going  merrily  when 
the  minister  of  the  district  nxle  into 
the  melee  on  his  horse,  scattered  the 
combatants  and  drove  them  off  in 
different  directions. 

The  outcome  was  that  the  Mc- 
Gregors left  the  neighbourhood  and 
made  more  room  for  the  original 
inhabitants. 


Duncan  and  Peggy  bided  their  time 
with  a  caution  for  which  the  latter  was 
responsible.  They  had  hopes  of  obtain- 
ing from  Munro  of  Strathconnan  the 
privilege  of  working  a  farm  which 
would  be  worth  while,  but  there  were 
many  applicants  for  every  one  that 
was  available. 

McGregors  had  come  into  the  dis- 
trict long  ago  when  their  clan  was 
broken  up  and  they  had  to  go  far  from 
home  to  even  keep  their  own  name; 
and,  as  ancient  allies,  they  had  to  be 
provided  for;  as  also  had  Munro's  own 
clansmen.  As  for  the  Rosses,  the 
whole  countryside  had  once  belonged 
to  their  clan,  and  they  had  always 
considered  it  their  right  to  be  taken 
care  of. 

At  last  the  smouldering  jealousy 
burst  out  in  a  faction  fight.  On  the 
one  side  were  the  Rosses,  still  the  most 
numerous  clan  in  the  district;  and  on 
the  other  were  the  McGregors,  the 
Munroes  and  their  friends  the  Mc- 
Craes.  These  had  the  help  of  an 
interloper  who  was  a  tower  of  strength 
— a  Caithness  man  from  his  weapon, 
for  he  wielded  the  old-fashioned 
quarter-stafif — a  stick  grasped  by  the 
middle,  with  both  ends  of  which  he 
whacked  vigourously. 

The  fight  was  going  against  the 
Rosses,  when  their  women,  inspired 
with  an  instinctive  memory  of  ancient 
days,  took  off  their  stockings,  gathered 
stones  from  the  brook  and,  loading 
their  stockings  with  the  stones,  sailed 
in  to  the  aid  of  their  men-folk. 

Peggy  was  as  much  interested  as 
anybody.  The  Saxon,  in  common  with 
all  Teutons,  when  he  does  fight,  fights 
to  some  purpose  and  not  for  glory  or 
for  the  fun  of  it.  Which  is  probably 
the  reason  why  he  has  usually  accom- 
plished something  tangible  in  his  wars, 
whether  they  resulted  in  the  occupation 
of  France  and  the  wringing  of  a  colossal 
indemnity  from  the  thrifty  people  of 
that  country;  or  in  the  ancient  seizing 
of  an  English  or  Lowland  Scottish 
county. 

So  Peggy,  thinking  the  customs  of 
the  locality  safe  enough  to  follow  when 
she  had  in  view  a  common  end  with  her 
neighbors,  joined  the  stocking-fighters, 
and,  being  sturdy,  did  great  execution. 
Then,  the  women  of  the  opposing 
faction  came  to  the  rescue  of  their  out- 
numbered men.  Shouts  of  Mac  an 
Diabhol — son  of  the  devil, — the  height 
of  Gaelic  profanity,  were  heard  on  all 


Duncan  and  Peggy  were  finally  glad 
to  secure  a  little  hillside  croft  and  they 
worked  bravely  side-by-side  against 
the  odds  of  poor  equipment  and 
restricted  scope,  a  family  of  little 
Anglo-Kelts  growing   up  about  them. 

But,  one  day,  a  bolt  came  out  of  a 
clear  sky.  Strathconnan  had  drifted 
into  difficulties  and  the  estate  had  to 
be  sold.  The  new  owner  decided  to 
turn  it  into  a  sheep  farm,  and  notified 
the  crofters  that  their  tenure  was  at  an 
end. 

Most  of  them  had  counted  that  the 
soil  belonged  to  them  as  they  belonged 
to  the  soil.  The  ancient  clan  system 
had  never  contemplated  such  an  issue. 
The  land  was  loosely  considered  to 
belong  to  the  clan  and  the  clan  lived, 
and  died  if  need  be,  for  the  chief.  But 
times  had  changed. 

To  these  simple  sons  of  the  .soil,  it 
was  a  thing  too  dreadful  to  contem- 
plate. To  leave  the  bleak,  heather 
covered  hills;  which  gave  the  mind  a 
tinge  of  sadness,  but  such  sweet  sadness 
— and  the  calm  valleys  with  their 
birch  trees,  hazel  groves,  alder  trees 
and  bushes;  their  burns  or  brooks;  the 
singing  birds — the  mavis  and  the 
linnets;  the  cuckoo  and  the  lark;  the 
robin-red-breast  and  the  wren ;  and  the 
noisy  chaffinch  or  break-a-i'>eithe;  the 
blackbird,  the  starling,  the  yellow- 
yerling  and  the  bull-finch — and  the 
flowers  that  bloomed  in  the  w-ildwood  .' 
the  primrose,  the  snowdrop,  the  violet 
and  blue-bell;  the  daisies,  the  wild 
roses,  the  wild  hyacinths. 

Even  matter-of-fact  Peggy  felt  in 
every  fibre  of  her  being  the  grief  which 
overcame  her  emotional  neighbours. 

Helplessly  they  refused  to  move, 
unable  to  think  where  they  were  to  go. 

Then  the  militia  was  called  out 
under  Young  Munro,  now  the  father 
of  a  family,  fighting  the  battle  of  life 
among  his  boyhood  friends  on  half  pay 
and  poor  farming.  His  boys,  clad  in 
his  cut-down  red  coats,  had  gone  to 
school  with  the  crofters'  children, 
respectfully  addressed  as  Mac  an 
Oifegeach  (officer's  son). 

But  orders  must  be  obeyed. 

The  men  of  the  crofters  had  too 
much  of  the  soldier  in  their  nature  to 
resist  the  King's  troops  and  sat  sullenly 
in  their  heather-thatched  huts.  Not 
so  the  women.  It  w^as  whispered  about 
that  they  were  going  to  fight,  and 
when  Munro  came  marching  up  with 
Continued  on  page  382. 


A  Sheaf  of  Asphodel 


The  Remittance  Man 

By  Gamett  Weston 

1S0LA  TE,  lone  and  despairful,  these  are  the  words  that  I  write. 
Memory's  mazes  beset  me.    Yesterday' s  dreams  are  alight. 
Turret  on  turret,  the  castles,  see  how  they  splendour  the  eye, 
Founded  on  pillars  of  dreaming,  summits  that  sever  the  sky. 

Seem  I  to  wander  in  twilight,  whip-poor-wills  whispering  low, 
Pulsing  the  gloom  of  the  swamp-land  with  an  unutterable  woe. 
Red  dies  the  day  in  the  westland,  scented  with  spring  is  the  air. 
Life  is  bewitching  and  golden,  things  are  alluringly  fair. 

But  only  the  years  are  constant,  they  follow  the  last  year's  tread, 
Bearing  on  to  the  empty  vasts,  the  slumb'ring  harvest  of  dead. 
They  have  taken  youth  and  laughter,  smothered  the  heat  of  their  fires 
And  left  in  their  place  the  ashes  of  unrealized  desires. 

Broad  and  far  have  I  wandered.     God,  but  Thou  knowest  it  all. 
The  joy  and  pain  of  the  rover,  the  gripping  bond  of  his  thrall. 
Thou  knowest  the  lights  that  beckon,  stronger  than  love  or  a  life. 
The  spell  of  the  unknown  peoples,  the  lust  of  a  distant  strife. 

But  oh,  in  the  years  that  follow,  when  the  friendly  hours  are  dead, 
Our  very  names  are  forgotten,  absence  has  severed  the  thread. 
We  gloom  o'er  the  things  about  us,  we  dream  of  the  castled  home. 
That  loomed  on  the  years'  horizon,  ere   we  ranked  with  those  who 
roam. 

Turret  on  turret  the  castles,  see  how  they  splendour  the  eye. 
Founded  on  pillars  of  dreaming,  summits  that  sever  the  sky. 
Isolate,  lone  and  despairful,  these  are  the  words  that  I  write. 
Memory's  mazes  beset  me.    Yesterday's  dreams  are  alight. 

The  Draught  of  Life 

By  Bertha  F.  Gordon 

THE  draught  of  Life — ah  God — how  sharp  it  is  ! 
How  deadly  bitter — and  how  madd'ning  sweet  ! 
Oh  pang  of  ice  and  fire,  how  you  thrill 
Through  all  my  veins,  and  shake  my  very  soul  ! 
Divine  intoxication  glowing  red 
Within  your  jewelled  chalice.     Lo,  I  set 
My  thirsty  lips  hard  to  your  cruel  brim 
And  drink,  and  drink,  and  wring  the  dregs  thereof. 
I  am  of  God,  and  shall  I  fear  to  quaff 
To  the  last  drop,  the  cup  here  set  for  me  .' 


Break  o'  Day 


Cupid's  Wiles 

By  Frances  Peck  Savage 

SOMEWHERE 
In  a  garden  fair, 
In  the  land  of  dreams, 
By  palace  rare, 
A  merry  sprite. 
And  an  armored  knight, 
Met  and  stood 
In  the  fading  light. 

Now  'twas  told. 
In  days  of  old, 
The  armored  knight, 
Was  stem  and  cold, 
That  thoughts  of  fame 
And  mighty  name 
Were  aught  that  kept 
His  heart  aflame. 

But 

The  merry  sprite 
With  heart  as  light 
As  a  drop  of  dew, 
On  a  summer  night. 
Mayhap  by  chance. 
Broke  field  and  lance, 
Of  the  armored  knight, 
With  roguish  glance. 

And  it  befell, 
So  poets  tell, 
The  merry  sprite. 
Wove  love's  sweet  spell, 
And  charmed  the  knight. 
From  deeds  of  might, 
Into  the  paths 
Of  love  and  light. 

And 

So  you  see, 
Who  e'er  he  be, 
An  armored  knight 
Can  scarce  be  free 
From  Cupid's  dart, 
And  wounds  that  smart. 
Perchance,  of  course. 
He  has  a  heart. 


By  Sara  Hiiniilton  Birchall 

Somewhere,  dawn  pearls  to-day.     Somewhere  night  fades  away. 

Long  is  the  hour  before  the  breaking,  love,  of  the  day! 
Fluting  thrush  on  the  spray!     Paling  stars  in  the  gray! 

Long  is  the  journey  without  you,  beloved.     Dusty  the  way  ! 


Fortunes  Overnight 


Part  II, 

THE  SECOND  OF  THE  AUTHOR'S  ARTICLES  ON  THE  SENSATIONAL 
OIL  STRIKE  AT   CALGARY— CRUDE  OIL  AT  THE  MONARCH   WELL 

By  Norman  S.  Rankin 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 

located  the  fluid,  he  called  the  watchers 
and  in  a  moment  of  intense  excitement 
the  baler  was  again  sent  down.  When 
it  was  once  more  brought  to  the  surface 
and  its  contents  dumped  into  the  sluice- 
box,  it  was  seen  to  be  crude  black  oil. 
Those  present  could  hardly  contain 
themselves    for   enthusiasm.     Drilling 


WHEN  CANADA  MONTHLY 
was  going  to  press  last  month, 
the  news  of  a  strike  of  crude 
oil  at  the  Monarch  well  flashed 
out.  The  Monarch  well  is  located  in 
the  Olds  district,  about  forty  miles 
north  of  Calgary.  This  strike  might 
properly  be  called  Strike  No.   3,   for 


The  demand  of  both  geologists  and 
the  public  had  been  for  crude  oil,  and 
now  here  it  was,  common,  crude  and 
black.  The  excellent  showing  of  the 
90%  gasoline  product  from  the  Ding- 
man  (Discovery)  well,  twenty  miles 
south  of  Calgary,  which  has  been 
steadily  dipped  out  since  its  strike  last 


though  there  is  yet,  so  far  as  is  pub- 
licly known,  one  producing  well,  there 
have  been  two  previous  strikes,  one 
on  October  8th,  1913,  in  the  Dingman 
well  at  a  depth  of  1,500  feet,  and  one 
on  May  14th,  1914,  in  the  same  Ding- 
man  well,  at  a  depth  of  2,718  feet 

On  the  evening  of  June  17th,  Pres- 
ident William  Georgeson  of  the  Mon- 
arch company  brought  in  news  that 
his  well  had  struck  oil.  The  well  was 
immediately  closed  to  all  visitors  except 
accredited  representatives  of  the  press, 
and  official  announcement  was  made 
by  the  company  that  the  Monarch  well 
had  struck  black  oil  at  a  depth  of  808 
feet. 

Interviewed  on  his  arrival  in  town, 
Mr.  Georgeson  said  that  the  strike  had 
been  anticipated  by  the  geologist  and 
consequently  some  of  those  deeply 
interested  in  the  project  had  remained 
at  the  well-mouth  overnight  in  the 
hope  that  oil  would  be  brought  in  dur- 
ing their  presence.  When  the  driller 
became  convinced  that  at  last  he  had 

340 


THE  BIG  TEAMS  THAT  HAUL  CASING  TO  THE  WELLS 

was  Stopped  and  an  order  for  a  special 
capping  appliance  wired  to  Medicine 
Hat,  as  the  geologist  feared  that  if  the 
drill  penetrated  into  the  oil-bearing 
strata  without  this  appliance  a  gusher 
would  result,  which  it  might  be  im- 
possible to  control. 

It  was  late  when  Mr.  Georgeson 
reached  town,  but  it  did  not  take  long 
for  the  news  to  spread.  By  11.30 
crowds  who  had  retired  home  for  the 
night  began  to  swarm  down  to  their 
offices,  and  by  piidnight  the  entire  city 
was  awake  and  on  the  streets  ready  for 
business.  When  the  exchanges  had 
closed  that  afternoon.  Monarch  stock 
had  quoted:  Dividend,  $17.50;  Ex- 
dividend,  $8.00  with  no  demand.  At 
once,  of  course,  there  was  a  sharp 
flurry,  and  curb  brokers  traded  it 
actively  up  to  $50.00  while  others 
opened  their  offices  and  did  a  strenuous 
business  in  all  shares.  The  news  gave 
an  enthusiastic  impetus  to  stock  selling. 
Hundreds  were  eager  to  buy.  Hun- 
dreds were  eager  to  sell — at  a  big  price. 


May,  and  the  discovery  of  oil  in  the 
old  Pincher  Creek  well  in  the  south, 
sunk  and  abandoned  many  years  ago, 
was  clearly  insufficient  evidence  to 
convince  the  pessimist  of  the  future  of 
the  Calgary  fields.  But  with  crude 
black  oil  in  the  Monarch  well,  and  the 
oil-bearing  territory  extended  both 
north  and  south,  the  public  naturally 
begins  to  believe  that  here  in  Alberta 
exists  a  great  oil  field,  stretching,  no 
doubt,  from  the  Sweetgrass  country, 
on  the  international  boundary',  north 
to  the  very  snow-limits  of  the  province. 
Investors  crowded  the  fronts  of 
brokers'  offices  where  they  were  thrown 
blank  application  forms.  They  filled 
these  in  haphazard  with  pencil  or  pen, 
pinning  their  money  to  them  and 
throwing  them  on  the  counters,  when 
they  dashed  off  to  go  through  the  same 
performance  elsewhere.  Clerks  swept 
the  blanks  and  money  off  the  counters 
into  waste  paper  baskets  behind,  and 
jumped  on  the  contents  to  make  room 
for  more.     The  rotunda  of  the  new 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


341 


Canadian  Pacific  Hotel  Palliser  pre- 
sented an  animated  appearance.  Every- 
body wanted  to  buy;  everybody  had 
money  to  spend;  everybody  was  con- 
vinced that  at  last  the  opportunity 
had  come  to  make  fortunes.  Night 
slipped  by  and  morning  waned,  but 
sleep,  or  the  fact  that  they  had  for- 
gotten to  go  to  bed,  never  occurred  to 
many  of  them. 

But  there  is  a  "but"  in  everything. 
The  find  proved  to  be  but  a  pocket, 
and  drilling  was  resumed.  Stocks 
dropped  back  to  normal  again.  Ex- 
citement subsided  and  people  went 
about  their  business  as  usual.  The 
only  noticeable  difference  was  that 
further  companies  sprang  up  and  ad- 
ditional oil  exchanges  formed.  No 
abatement  in  oil  interest,  however,  was 
apparent.  At  the  time  I  wrote  the 
previous  article,  between  eighty  and 
ninety  companies  had  formed  with  a 
combined  approximate  capitalization 
of  $100,000,000.  To-day  there  are 
in  existence  over  four  hundred  com- 
panies, whose  combined  capitalization 
is  $400,000,000.  Of  these,  twelve  are 
actually  drilling  with  shafts  sunk  from 
300  to  2,700  feet.  Eight  oil  exchanges 
have  incorporated,  and  are  actively 
engaged  in  stock  trading. 

The  construction  of  a  refinery  to 
take  care  of  the  crude  product  is  under 
serious  consideration.  It  is  well  to 
remember  that  oil  has  between  three 
and  four  hundred  by-products. 

The  construction  of  a  pipe  line  to 
Vancouver  by  operators  from  the  Ohio 
and  California  oil  fields,  who  have 
become  actively  interested  locally  is  a 
future    probability.       Pipe    lines    arc 


THE  WILD-BYBD  CROWD  IN  ONE  OF  CALGARY'S  PUBUC  OIL  EXCHANGES 


<lt  THE  DIHCMAN  WELL 


being  operated  to-day  from  Oklahoma 
(Tulsa)  to  Jersey  City,  a  distance  of 
1,500  miles.  The  distance  to  Van- 
couver is  only  680  miles. 

A  complete  wireless  service  between 
the  oil  fields  and  Calgary  has  been 
installed,  and  already  six  or  eight  com- 
panies are  taking  advantage  of  the 
opportunity  to  keep  in  close  touch 
with  well-operations  and  eliminate 
false  rumors.  At  each  of  the  wells 
connected  with  the  service,  an  elabor- 
ate installation  has  been  made  with 
power  supplied  by  a  gasoline 
engine  driving  a  motor  and 
generator,  which  also  supplies 
sufficient  power  for  lighting 
purposes.  Operators  are  in 
attendance  at  each  well  and 
daily  news  bulletins  are  flash- 
ed to  a  central  office  at  Cal- 
gary from  which  point  mes- 
sengers convey  it  promptly 
to  the  head  offices  of  the 
companies  obtaining  the  ser- 
vice. Operators  are  licensed 
by  the  government. 

A  factory  for  the  manu- 
facture of  steel  derricks  and 
oil  drilling  equipment  is  be- 
ing erected  in  Calgary,  and 
a  similar,  smaller  plant  is 
under  construction  at  Oko- 
toks.  Two  oil  exchanges  are 
constructing  buildings  on 
valuable  inside  property,  one 
on  the  site  of  the  famous 
club  of  old  timers,  "The 
Ranchmin's." 

At  a  depth  of  504  feet, 
while  boring  for  natural  gas, 
the  town  of  High  River,  40 
miles  south  of  Calgary,  had  a 


small  strike  of  oil  of  the  same  character 
as  that  discovered  in  the  Dingmanwell 
at  1,500  feet.  Quite  a  sensation  was 
caused  in  the  southern  town  over  this 
discovery.  The  well  had  been  drilling 
for  several  months  and  at  -450  feet  gas 
was  encountered  and  the  well  capped. 
On  July  6th,  the  directors,  deciding 
that  the  quantity  was  insufficient  for 
their  purposes,  uncapped  the  well  and 
resumed  work.  When  the  baler  was 
sent  down,  it  came  up  half  full  of  black 
oil  to  the  astonishment  and  delight  of 
the  city  fathers,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
half  the  town's  population  knew  of  it 
and  stood  cheering  around  the  mouth 
of  the  well.  The  drillers  brought  up 
fresh  quanties  of  oil  to  convince  the 
latest  arrivals  that  they  really  had 
"the  goods."  It  is  the  intention  of  the 
town  to  drive  the  well  to  a  greater 
depth  in  the  hope  that  the  precious 
fluid  may  be  encountered  in  commer- 
cial quantities. 

Six  or  more  companies,  whose  cap- 
ital varies  from  $500,000  to  $10,000,000 
and  whose  total  capitalization  approx- 
imates $20,000,000  have  formed  an  oil 
merger.  The  assets  of  the  consolidated 
companies  include  areas  in  practically 
every  district  where  drilling  is  now 
being  carried  on,  100,000  acres  of  leases 
and  seven  drilling  outfits.  The  princi- 
pal operations  of  the  merger,  it  is 
announced,  will  be  for  the  present  on 
the  Dingman  anticline,  where  five 
separate  properties  are  held. 

Every  available  inside  office  has  been 
taken  over  by  oil  brokers,  and  rents 
are  high  in  consequence.  There  are 
over  one  hundred  such  offices.  Oil 
signs,  brazenly  proclaiming  the  merits 
of  the  various  oil  companies,  stare  at 


342 

you  from  all  sides.  Bill-boards,  wag- 
ons, sandwich  men,  handbills  and 
daily  stock  quotations  on  street  black- 
boards and  ill  newspapers,  testify  to 
the  intense  oil  excitement.  There  are 
many  millionaires  on  paper;  some  with 
real  money.  Those  who  possessed 
and  disposed  of  leases  are  amongst  the 
latter  class. 

Many  notable  geologists  have  been 
attracted  to  Calgary  in  connection 
with  the  oil.  The  London  Mining 
Institute  has  a  representative  on  the 
ground.  From  every  active  and  de- 
clined oil  field  in  the  United  States 
they  have  come.  It  is  reported  that 
the  British  Mining  Institute  has 
commissioned  Sir  Trewatha  James  to 
make  a  detailed  report  on  the  entire 
field,  which  will  eventually  come  be- 
fore the  British  Admiralty.  And  fin- 
ally H.  R.  H.  the  Duke  of  Connaught, 
Governor  General  of  Canada,  accom- 
panied by  the  Duchess  and  Princess 
Patricia,  has  visited  the  oil  fields  in 
his  last  trip  west. 

Much  controversy  has  arisen  over 
the  merits  and  demerits  of  crude  black 
oil  and  the  white  or  j'ellow  oil  that  has 
been  found  and  is  now  produced  in  the 
Dingman  well.  It  seems  to  be  the  gen- 
eral opinion,  and  again  and  again  it 
has  been  stated,  that  we  cannot  have 
a  commercial  oil  field  until  crude  oil  is 
encountered.  Speaking  before  the  Cal- 
gary Advertising  Club  on  the  sixteenth 
of  July,  A.  W.  Dingman,  after  whom 
the  discovery  well  is  named,  and  a 
pioneer  in  gas  and  oil  operations  in 
Alberta,  said: 

"I  have  asked  an  eminent  geologist 
why  he  should  want  to  find  black  oil 
in  preference  to  the  white  oil  we  are 
now  producing,  and  when  he  got  down 
to  facts,  he  simply  could  not  explain. 
If  our  yellow  oil  sells  for  S8  a  barrel, 
why  should  we  want  oil  that  brings 
only  75c.  a  barrel,  and  that  then  has 
to  be  refined.  Then  again,  people  act- 
ually tell  me  that  the  oil  is  not  where 
it  is.  They  say  it  has  seeped  from  five 
miles  away.  In  my  opinion,  the  oil 
we  are  taking  out  of  the  Dingman  well 
to-day  could  not  squeeze  through  five 
miles  of  that  sand  rock  formation  in 
ten  thousand  years.  It  is  just  a  case 
of  Mother  Nature  refining  the  oil  for 
Alberta  and  some  of  her  children  still 
crying  for  milk  when  they  could  have 
cream.  This  district  is  a  puzzle  for 
geologists,  and  we  must  go  slowly,  but 
we  are  fortunate  in  having  enough 
capital  to  finance  the  field  in  one- 
tenth  the  time  that  it  would  have  taken 
ten  years  ago  without  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  present  and  its  mechanical 
equipment." 

The  oil  business  is  a  serious  one,  re- 
quiring large  capital.  After  the  land 
or  lease  has  been  acquired,  about  $50,- 
000  is  required  to  purchase  and  install 
the     equipment.     Contractors    charge 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

from  S7  to  Sll  per  foot  (o  drill,  but 
even  this  price  does  not  include  casing. 
A  well  may  cost  $25,000  to  $100,000 
to  drill,  depending  on  the  depth  at 
which  oil  is  struck  and  the  success  met 
with  in  extracting  or  losing  a  casing. 
A  well-known  authority  told  me  he 
would  not  attempt  any  well  without 
a  clear  fund  of  $60,000  to  do  it  with— 
all  equipment  being  found. 

Calgary  is  confident — absolutely  con- 
fident— that  in  the  end  she  will  prove 
triumphantly  to  the  world  the  legiti- 
macy and  extent  of  her  oil  field  such  as 
she  anticipates — such  as  geologists 
anticipate — and  this  confidence  is  clear- 
ly manifest  in  both  the  speech  and 
actions  of  her  citizens.  The  optimism 
of  the  westerner  is  prevalent. 


''Motherer" 

Continued  from  page  328. 

ashamed  to  go  in  just  at  mealtime,  like 
I  wanted  something— so  I  went  away." 

"Oh,  Jack  !  where  to  ?" 

"Oh,"  with  his  lightest  manner,  "I — 
er — you  remember  old  gray  Billy,  the 
horse  that  hauled  the  wood  ?  Well, 
I  just  went  down  to  his  stable,  by  the 
river,  and  he  was  there,  and  he  knew 
me,  and  he  was  so  warm  and  the  straw- 
was  real  deep,  and  I  guess  I  fell  asleep 
there." 

I  caught  the  chapped  little  hands  in 
mine:  "Jack — Jack  boy  !  listen  to  me — 
be  honest,  dear,  to  your  old  chum  ! 
You  had  no  supper — have  you  had  any 
breakfast  ?    Have  you  had  any  lunch?" 

He  lifted  his  head  high,  but  it  could 
not  stay  lifted.  His  white  face  drooped 
— his  voice  shook,  as  he  admitted 
frankly,  "I  guess — I'm  pretty  hungry. 
Something  keeps  biting  at  me,  and  I 
get  kind  of  dizzy  when  I  walk." 

I  rushed  from  the  room,  turning  the 
key  in  the  lock  as  a  precaution,  and 
presently  I  managed  to  get  some 
sandwiches  and  a  bowl  of  coffee. 

As  Jack  began  ravenously  on  his 
food,  I  said  to  him:"Gently,  laddie,  not 
so  fast  !"  and  presently,  as  color  crept 
into  his  cheeks,  he  offered  me  a  string 
of  beads  from  his  pocket,  that  had  been 
intended  to  reward  some  Indian  brave, 
saying:  "These  may  come  useful  to 
you  when  you're  playing  Pocahontas 
or  something." 

"No,  Jack,  your  mother  will  have 
use  for  them  when  you  go  back." 

"I'm  not  going  back  !"  he  answered, 
firmly. 

"Not  going  back — why,  are  you  here 
without   your   mother's   permission  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Why;  what  will  she  do  ?" 

"I  guess  she  won't  do  much  !"  he 
answered,  bitterly. 

"But  dear,  I  thought  vou  loved 
her  ?" 


"Well,  didn't  1  .'  Didn't  1  get  licked 
when  big  boys  guyed  her  ?  Didn't  I 
learn  all  my  parts  right  away  so  as  not 
t;j  worry  her  •*  Didn't  I  stay  in  and  go 
to  bed,  when  I  could  have  lied  and  gone 
with  the  gang,  after  she  had  started 
for  the  theatre  ?  Didn't  I  do  all  her 
errands,  and  when  she  sent  me  for  her 
lunch  after  the  play,  did  I  ever  take 
even  a  nibble  f)r  hook  a  penny  ?" 

"I  don't  belie\e  you  ever  did — but 
think.  Jack,  how  she  loves  you  !" 

"Yes,  in  holes  and  comers,  where 
people  didn't  see  her,  she  u.sed  to  love 
me  sometimes.  Besides,  people  don't 
want  thieves  about  them  !" 

"Thieves — why.   Jack  ?" 

"She  said  it  !  She  said  it  !"  he  sob- 
bed in  a  red  fury.  "My  own  motherer 
said  it  !  I  wouldn't  have  cared  if  she 
had  licked  me  to  pieces  for  losing  the 
money,  but  she  said  I  stole  it  !"  and  he 
folded  his  thin  little  arms  against  the 
wall,  and  hiding  his  face,  sobbed 
heavily. 

I  drew  him  to  me:  "Tell  me  about  it, 
Jack."  With  nervous  fingers,  pushing 
the  hairpins  back  and  forth  in  my  hair, 
he  told  me  of  the  boy  whose  aunt  kept 
a  candy  shop,  and  how  he  used  to  give 
the  gang  candy  and  chewing  gum, 
claiming  his  aunt  gave  him  the  things. 
One  day  after  filling  Jack's  pockets, 
he  came  back  very  frightened  and 
admitted  that  he  had  stolen  the  things, 
but  promised  if  Jack  would  not  tell  on 
him,  that  he  would  never  do  it  again. 
Jack  promised  not  to  betray  him.  That 
same  day  Mrs.  Brandish  had  given 
Jack  money  and  sent  him  to  buy  some 
play  books.  He  started,  but  being  by 
way  of  learning  to  walk  on  his  hands, 
had  practiced  a  little  on  the  sidewalks 
and  while  thus  reversed  had  undoubt- 
edly lost  the  money  from  his  pocket. 
After  vain  search  he  went  home  and 
told  Mrs.  Brandish  of  his  loss.  She  was 
angr}',  and  turning  out  his  pockets  in 
her  determined  seeking,  found  the 
packets  of  gum,  the  candy,  and  some 
new  marbles.  She  charged  Johnnie 
with  stealing  and  spending  the  money. 
Half  wild,  the  child  denied  the  charge. 
Then  she  said:  "Account  for  your  pos- 
session of  these  things  !  A  gift  ?"  She 
laughed  at  the  idea.  "What  was  the 
name  and  address  of  the  generous 
one  ?"  He  told  her  he  had  promised, 
had  crossed  his  heart  not  to  tell,  and 
she  curled  her  lip  at  him,  and  sneered: 

"Ah,  I  see  !  Honor  among  thieves  !" 
and  Jack  had  turned  and  left  the  house. 

Suddenly  he  drew  away  from  me. 
"Maybe  you  think,  I  took  it,  too  ?"  he 
said  suspiciously. 

"No,  Jack,  I  know  you  didn't  !  But 
go  back  to  mother — she  will  be  so 
troubled  !" 

"No — people'  don't  trouble  about 
thieves,  not  even  motherers  !  But  I 
guess  I'll  have  to  go  now.  I'm  going 
to  see   if  anybody  wants  a   boy   for 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


343 


Will 


# 


lams 


You  will  find 

this  very 
convenient 


HPATIENITED      *^ 
older  Top 

Shavina 
Stick  ^ 


Simplifies  Your  Shaving 

To  remove  it  from  its  case,  rub  it 
on  your  face,  put  it  bacl<  in  its 
case  again,  takes  but  an  instant. 
The  sliorter  the  Shaving  Stick 
becomes  the  more  you  will  appre- 
ciate the  Holder- Top  feature.  The 
soap  is  Williams',  which  is  all  you 
need  to  know  about  it. 

THREE  OTHER  FORMS  OF  THE  SAME  GOOD   QUALITy: 


Stick 


Powder 


Cream 


Send  4  cents  in  stamps 

for  a  miniature  trial  package  of  eitherWilliams' 
Siiaving  Stick.  Powder  or  Cream,  or  10  cents 
for  Assortment  No  I.  containing  all  three 
articles. 

'Address:  THE  J.  B.  WILLIAMS  COMPANY 
Dept.  A,  Glastonbury,  Conn. 


344 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Who  Ever  Forgot 

His  First  Dish  of  Puffed  Grains? 

You  have  forgotten,  no  doubt,  when  you  first  tasted  most  things. 
■  But  one  always  remembers  the  first  dish  of  Puffed  Wheat  or  Puffed  Rice. 

Look  back — you  who  know  them.  Note  how  well  you  recollect  the 
first  sight  of  them.  What  other  food  dainty  in  all  your  lives  ever  left 
such  an  impression  ? 

•  Your  Time  is  Coming 

Your  time  is  coming — if  it  hasn't  come — when  you  learn  the  de- 
lights of  Puffed  Grains.  Some  day  you  will  order  a  package.  Out  will 
roll  brown,  bubble-like  grains,  eight  times  normal  size. 

You  will  see  crisp,  airy,  fragile  morsels  which  seem  too  good  to  eat. 
You  will  serve  them  with  cream  and  sugar,  mix  them  with  fruit,  or  float 
like  crackers  in  bowls  of  milk.  And  you  will  find  that  these  thin-walled, 
flaky  grains  have  a  taste  like  toasted  nuts. 

You  will  never  forget  that  morning. 


r 


L 


Puffed  Wheat,  -   10c 
Puffed  Rice,  -    -  15c 

Except  in  Extreme  West. 


I 


These  are  Prof.  Anderson's  foods — made  by  his  patent  process. 
Every  [food  granule  is  steam-exploded  for  easy,  complete  digestion. 
Every  food  atom  is  made  available. 

So  these  are  more  than  dainties.  In  all  the  ages,  no  other  process 
has  so  fitted  grains  for  food.  That  is  the  main  reason  why  you  should 
know  them.  Get  a  package  of  each — get  them  to-day — and  see  which 
kind  you  like  best. 

THe  Quaker  Qats  Ompany 


Sole   Makers 


(653) 


errands,  or  perhaps  I  can  help  in  a 

stable." 

Poor  slender  little  chap,  with  great 
pUrplish  half  rings  beneath  his  eyes, 
his  services  would  not  be  in  great 
demand.  And  as  I  puzzled  over  a  means 
of  keeping  him  longer,  the  awaited 
quick  step  came  up  the  hall,  the  imper- 
ative knock  followed,  and  then  the 
manager  was  handing  me  a  play  book, 
and  exclaiming  in  well-simulated  sur- 
prise: "Why,  halloo,  Jack  !  Where 
did  you  come  from  ?" 

The  boy  made  a  spring  to  secure  his 
cap,  then,  disarmed  by  the  manager's 
manner,  recovered  his  self-possession, 
shook  hands,  and  for  a  time  gravely 
discussed  theatricals.  Suddenly  Mr.  E. 
asked:  "Well,  what  about  your 
mother  ?" 

"Oh,  she's  a  big  favorite,  just  as  she 
was  here.  But  she  don't  like  the  city 
yet,  she's  kind  of  homesick  for  this 
place." 

"Humph  !  Have  vou  sent  her  any 
letter  yet  ?" 

Jack's  eyes  fell:  "Why,  no  sir,  I've 
only  been  "away  such  a  short  time, 
that " 

"Well,"  said  the  manager,  sharply, 
"it's  time  for  you  to  go  back  now  ! 
You've  treated  yourself  to  the  wild 
sweet  joy  of  running  away,  leaving 
your  mother  to  pay  the  whistle  !  Now 
back  you  go  !" 

"No,  sir,  motherer  don't  want  me, 
she  thinks  bad  things  of  me  !" 

"And  what  do  you  think  she's  doing 
meanwhile  ?" 

"Why,  she's  acting  with  Mr.  Mur- 
dock,  of  course."  The  manager  shook 
his  head,  and  Jack's  eyes  opened  wide 
with  surprise.  "She  ain't  had  a  fall  ? 
The  doctor  said  her  bones  was  too 
little  for  her  weight."  Another  shake 
of  the  head.  "They  haven't  engaged 
anyone  else  when  she's  such  a  fav- 
orite ?" 

"I  guess  they've  had  to,  as  she  is 
broken  flat  down  on  her  bed  from 
worry  about  you." 

Jack's  lips  quivered  piteously.  He 
crept  to  my  .side,  and  as  if  I  had  not 
heard,  muttered  hoarsely:  "Motherer's 
sick  !  Please  can  yx>u  help  me  to  go 
back  to  her  ?" 

"Here,  you  read  him  this,"  and  he 
handed  me  a  scrawl  in  Mrs.  Brandish 's 
hand.  It  was  an  entreaty  that  if  any- 
one saw  her  Johnnie  he  should  be  told 
that  a  Danny  Pierson  had  been  arrested 
for  robbing  his  aunt's  shop  and  had 
confessed  distributing  the  spoils  and 
that  she,  Johnnie's  mother,  had  been 
cruelly  mistaken,  and  was  suffering 
for  her  boy. 

But  Jack  paid  no  attention  to  me  as 
I  read  this  vindication  of  his  boyish 
honor.  He  impatiently  wav^ed  the  note 
aside,  repeating  anxiously:  "Can  you 
help  me,  please,  motherer's  sick  ?" 
The    manager    got    him    a    thicker 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


345 


i 


jacket.  I  washed  and  brushed  and  then 
dined  him,  and  when  the  time  came  to 
start  he  shook  hands  casually,  but  out 
in  the  dim  hall,  his  man-about-town 
manner  fell  from  him,  his  thin  little 
arms  went  about  my  neck,  his  hot 
cheek  pressed  close  to  mine  and  he 
besought:  "You  think  motherer  will 
get  well,  don't  you — oh,  don't  you  ?" 
Years  swept  by  and  "Little  Jack" 
was  little  no  longer,  but  was  known  to 
his  comrades  as  "Jolly  Captain  Jack 
Brandish  of  the  Cavalry,"  who  fol- 
lowed faithfully  the  "guidon,"  as  a 
cavalry  man  should.  Writing  to  me 
just  after  his  promotion,  he  said: 

And  by  the  way,  I  used  to  have  the 
most  profound  admiration  for  your 
astonishingly  variegated  knowledge. 
But  I  say,  you  did  ttirn  your  imagina- 
tion loose  on  me  oncel  What  a  bounder 
that  was  about  the  Indians  being  all 
tamed.  You  wretch  !  Tliat  was  years 
ago,  yet  "Old  Gray  Wolf  Crook"  with 
sweet  persuasiveness  is  still  taming 
Indians — a  task  that  I've  been  able  to 
help  on  a  little  bit.  God  bless  him,  for  a 
rare  good  man  and  a  mighty  fighter  ! 

Dear  chum  of  days  agone — ah,  yes, 
you  know  already,  for  when  did  I  ever 
come  to  you  without  wanting  something. 
But  will  you,  there  in  the  East,  secure 
for  me  the  play  books  on  inclosed  list; 
also  the  wigs,  beards,  and  box  of  make- 
up. Don't  laugh,  for  let  me  tell  you  that 
about  Christmas  time,  out  here  at  the 
post,  private  theatricals  are  highly 
esteemed,  and  yours  truly  becomes  quite 
the  king-pin — in  fact  as  stage  manager 
I'm  a  far  bigger  thing  than  I'm  likely  to 
become  as  an  officer.  Will  you  send  the 
things  ?  Of  course  you  will !  So  for  the 
little  fellow's  sake,  you  will  help  out  the 
long-legged  Jack  of  to-day  ?  Thank  you, 
anyway,  in  advance  ! 

Mother — Lord  !  how  hard  it  is  to  this 
day  to  knock  off  that  extra  syllable  ! 
Hang'd  if  I'll  do  it  now — being  it  is  to 
you  !  Motherer  is  up  in  Canada  now 
and  only  plays  on  special  occasions. 
God  bless  her  !  She  seems  to  believe  that 
the  welfare  and  fighting  ability  of  the 
whole  of  Uncle  .Sam's  army  depends 
upon  the  valor  and  honor  of  her  Johnnie: 
atid  it  almost  breaks  her  heart  to  use  the 
bits  of  money  I  send  her — because  they 
have  belonged  to  me  ! 

{Excuse  me — an  orderly  with  a  mes- 
sage.) 

Oh  !  Where's  my  head  !  The  General 
himself— Old  Gray  Wolf—has  expressed 
a  personal  desire  to  have  me  go  out  with 
his  picked  party  to-night.  This  will  be 
honor  enough  for  me  for  a  lifetime. 
There  won't  be  any  sounding  of  "Boots 
and  .Saddles,"  only  after  "taps"  when 
all  is  quiet,  we  will  slip  out  and  away  ! 
The  old  General  has  the  scent  of  a  hound 
for  trouble  !  A  nd  you — you  could  tell  a 
trusting  child  that  the  Indians  were  all 
tamed  long  ago  ! 


A  Five -Cent  Banquet 

The  costliest  ban- 
quet ever  spread, 
with  all  the  gastro- 
nomic concoctions 
that  culinary  genius 
can  devise  could  not 
contain  as  much  real  body-building,  digest- 
ible nutriment  as  two 

Shredded  Wheat  Biscuits 

the  food  that  contains  all  the  elements  in  the  whole 
wheat  grain  steam-cooked,  shredded  and  baked.  It 
is  what  you  digest,  not  what  you  eat,  that  builds 
muscle,  bone  and  brain.  The  filmy,  porous  "shreds 
of  whole  wheat  are  digested  when  the  stomach  rejects 
all  other  foods.  Two  Shredded  Wheat  Biscuits,  with 
milk  or  cream  and  sliced  peaches,  make  a  complete, 
perfect  meal  at  a  cost  of  five  or  six  cents. 


Always  heat  the  Biscuit  in  oven  to 
restore  crispness ;  then  cover  it  with 
sliced  peaches  or  other  fresh  fruit 
and  serve  with  milk  or  cream.  Try 
toasted  Triscuit,  the  Shredded 
Wheat  Wafer,  for  luncheon  with 
butter,  cheese  or  marmalades. 

"It's  All  in  the  Shred«" 

Made  only  by 

The  Canadian  Shredded  Wheat  Co.,  Ltd., 
Niagara  Falls,  Ont. 

Toronto  Office:  49  Wellingtoa  Street,  K»sl. 


iiMM 


Take  my  hand,  chum — wish  me  good 
luck  !    Good-by  ! 

Yours  ever  affectionately, 

Jack  Brandish,   U.  S.  A. 
P.  S. —  /    must    send    one    word    to 
motherer  ! 


A  young,  recently  married  couple 
had  been  having  the  usual  half  pathetic 
and  wholly  amusing  experiences  inci- 
dent to  somewhat  limited  means  and 
total      inexperience.     One      Saturday 


there  was  a  hitch  in  the  delivery  of  the 
marketing,  and  Sunday  found  them 
witli  a  practically  empty  larder.  When 
dinner  time  came  the  young  wife  burst 
into  tears. 

"Oh,  this  is  horrible  !"  she  wept. 
"Not  a  thing  in  this  house  for  a  dog  to 
eat  !     I  am  going  home  to  mamma  !" 

"If  you  don't  mind,  dear,"  the  hus- 
band exclaimed,  as  he  visibly  brighten- 
ed and  reached  for  his  hat,  "I'll  go  with 
you  !" 


346 


CANADA   MONTHLY 


■% 


M 


fT:-;-: 


When 
Motoring 


slip  a   package   of    Ingersoll 

Cream  Cheese  in  the 

luncheon  basket. 


has  a  distinctive  flavor— much 

nicer   than  ordinary   cheese. 

Wholesome   and   nourishing. 

too — you'll  enjoy  it. 

In  Packages 
15c  and  25c  at  all  Grocers 

Send  for  the  Ingersoll  Recipe  Folder 


THE 
INGERSOLL 

Packing  Co.,  Ltd 
Ingersoll,  Ont- 


"Spreads 
like 
Butter  " 


FOR  INFANTS 

Will  Bring  Your  Baby  Safely  Throagh 
The  First  Year 


*'We  put  our 

M.iuricc     on 

Neave'.s    Food 

Tvheu     he    was 

one   week   old, 

and     he    never 

tasted  anything 

else    until     his 

first     birthday. 

Hundreds  of 

people    have 

stopped  nie  on 

the  streets  and  in  the  stores  to  ask  how 

old  he  was  and  what  he  was  fed  on.  He 

has  never  had  a  day's  illness  and  is  one 

of  the  bonniest  boys  I  have  ever  seen". 

Mrs.  J.  W.  PATEMAN, 

133  Boultbee  Ave.,  Toronto. 

Neave's  Food  is  sold  in  I  lb.  tins  by 

all  druggists. 

FREE  TO  MOTHERS— Write  for  free 
tin  of  >^eave's  Food  and  copy  of  our 
book  "Hints  About  Baby",  to  the 

Canadian    Agent  —  EDWIN     UTLEY. 
14W  Front  Street  Eut.  -  TORONTO- 

51 

Mfrs.  J.  R.  NEAVE    &    CO.,  EnsUnd. 


This  department  is  under  the  direction  of  "  Kit "  who  under  this  familiar  pen 
name  has  endeared  herself  to  Canadian  women  from  Belle  Isle  to  Victoria.  Every 
month  she  will  contribute  sparkling  bits  of  gossip,  news  and  sidelights  on  life  as 
seen  through  a  woman's  eyes. 


YV/HAT  marvels  have  happened  in 
"'  this  round  world  since  last  we 
took  the  road,  Pack  on  back!  It  was 
along  a  quiet  country  road,  lined  by 
fence  and  hedge.  The  smell  of  the 
hay  yet  lingered  over  the  ground,  and 
already  the  new  grass  was  greening 
upward.  There  were  flowers  by  the 
wayside  to  gather  if  one  had  a  mind 
to,  and  carry  gaily  in  a  nosegay.  There 
were  birds  chirping  excitedly  as  they 
flocked  preparatory  to  the  long  flight 
towards  warm  winter  quarters;  the 
road  is  the  same,  the  grass  still  grows 
greenly  though  the  scent  of  the  hay 
has  gone  with  the  birds;  there  are  yet 
wayside  flowers  sturdily  blooming 
amid  the  haze  of  autumn,  but  just 
now  a  company  of  boys  in  khaki 
marched  smartly  through  the  city 
streets  behind  us  and  there  is  the  sound 
of  drums  beating,  and  somewhere — 
afar  off — the  heavy  thunder  of  guns. 

THE  SIGNS 

TT  was  sometime  in  January,  if  you 

remember,  that  the  Pedlar  wander- 
ing into  Scripture-land,  filled  his  Pack 
with  what  are  called  the  "Signs  of  the 
Times."  The  signs  led  steadily  to 
where  the  guns  are  booming  and  men 
are  marching  to-day.  This  war  of 
worlds  which  some  men  called 
Armageddon,  cannot  be  that  Arm- 
ageddon of  Revelations  but  a  warning 
that  the  time  draws  nigh. 

The  increase  of  preparations  for 
war  in  a  time  of  peace  was  a  sign.  The 
repudiation  of  sound  doctrine  by  the 
church,  is  a  sign. 

That  time  is  with  us  now. 

Every  holy  day  men  stand  in  pul- 
pits repudiating  fundamental  doc- 
trines. We  have  been  told  by  a 
professed  minister,  that  God,  being 
no   stonemason    (consider   the   profan- 


ity of  this  witticism)  never  wrote  the 
law  on  tables  of  stone.  We  have 
heard  college  professors  declare  that 
there  is  no  hell-fire,  no  punishment 
for  sin.  These  men  are  but  fulfilling 
the  prophecy  that  the  Church,  that 
professed  Christians,  should  be 
"lovers  of  pleasures  more  than  lovers 
of  God." 

Christian  Science  is  a  Sign  of  the 
Times.  Read  what  I.  M.  Haldeman, 
D.  D.,  says  in  his  wonderful  books 
"The  Coming  of  Christ"  and  "The 
Signs  of  the  Times" — books  wTitten 
with  such  simplicity  that  a  child  may 
learn.  According  to  this  recognized 
authority  Christian  Science  fulfills  the 
prophecy: — "Who  is  a  liar,  but  he 
that  denieth  Jesus  is  the  Christ.  He 
is  Antichrist  that  denieth  the  Father 
and  the  Son."— John  2.  22. 

"Christian  Science  is  the  shadow 
of  the  Antichrist,  his  forerunner  and 
herald  .  .  .  Here  is  a  false  teacher 
coming  in  the  name  of  Christ  and 
with  such  power  that,  if  it  were 
possible,  it  might  deceive  the  ver>' 
elect,"  says  Dr.  Haldeman. 

Emanuelism  is  another  Sigri  and 
another  shadow  of  the  Antichrist. 
Millionaireism  is  another  Sign, 
Socialism  another. 

But  the  greatest  of  all  the  Signs  is 
the  revival  of  Judaism.  "They  shall 
ask  their  wav  of  Zion  with  their  faces 
thitherward" — Jeremiah  50,  5.  That 
movement  has  been  stirring  for  more 
than  a  hundred  years.  Already 
thousands  of  Jews  have  returned  to 
the  land  of  their  forefathers.  The 
Jews  are  buying  and  selling  land  in 
their  own  country.  The  Turkish 
Government  has  invited  the  Jew  to 
"become  a  participant  citizen  in  the 
covenant  land." 

These  are  some  of  the  Signs  which 
he  who  runs  may  read. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


347 


m 


m 


«H»«Hii  mam  ^^ 

watches 


Generally  speaking,  ex- 
tremely thin  watches  are  to 
be  regarded  with  caution. 
But  when  Waltham  places 
its  name  upon  a  watch,  that 
watch  is  right. 

The  Waltham  "Colonial" 
Watches  are  wafer-thin, 
supremely  strong,  supremely  handsome. 
And  they  keep  time  as  well  as  they  look. 
These  artistic  timepieces  satisfy  the  most 
exacting  requirements  of  business,  profes- 
sional and  social  life.  They  give  a  lifetime 
—  and  more — of  that  kind  of  splendid 
service  which  is  summarized  in  the  word: 
"Waltham". 

You  can  get  an  excellent  Waltham  "Colonial"  Watch  for  as  little  a«  $29  and  the 
full  Waltham  guarantee  goes  with  it.     Ask  your  jeweler  to  ihow  you  thii  watch. 

Write  us  for  booklet  and  general  information. 

Waltham  Watch  Company 

Canada  Life  Hld^.,  St.  James  Street,   Montreal 


^Z 


348 


In  ma^km^ 

ipsus  and 
jellies  the 

least  expensive 
itemisthesugar 

YET  the  sugar  is  the 
most  important 
ingredient  because 
if  its  quality  is  not  right, 
your  confedtions  will 
ferment,  spoil,  not  be 
sufficiently  sweet  or  be 
flavourless. 

With  St,  Lawrence 
Sugar  results  are 
always  satisfactory. 

St.  Lawrence  Extra  Granulated 
Sugar  is  sold  in  2  lb.  and  5  lb. 
sealed  cartons,  and  in  bags  of  10 
lbs.,  20  lbs.,  25  lbs.,  50  lbs.,  and 
100  lbs. 

Order  a  bag  of  St.  Lawrence 
Extra  Granulated  Sugar  Blue  Tag— 
the  Medium  Size  Grain — This  size 
suits  mo^  people  be^  ;  good  grocers 
everywhere  can  supply  you. 


St.  Lawrence  Sugar  Refineries, 
Limited,   Montreal. 


MED 
GRAIN 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

THE  MYSTIC  SEVEN 
ACCORDING  to  certain  chronolog- 
•'*•  ical  data,  the  month  of  October, 
1914,  sees  the  end  of  the  seven  times 
of  power  of  the  Gentiles.  While  the 
actual  Gentile  period  is  not  definitely 
stated,  students  of  the  Scriptures  agree 
that  in  the  mystic  number  seven  may 
he  found  the  solution.  The  "Seven 
Times"  of  Scripture  are  symbolic. 
A  year  in  symbol  represents  seven 
times  360,  or  2,520  years.  Based 
strictly  on  symbolical  chronology, 
therefore,  this  2,520  years  (the  Time 
of  the  Gentiles)  beginning  in  606  B.C., 
will  end  in  October,  1914  A.  D. 

Before  the  universal  peace  there  will 
be  the  collapse  of  the  nations  through 
a  fierce  strife,  "a  time  of  trouble  such 
as  never  was  since  there  was  a  nation." 
I  am  writing  in  the  first  week  of  the 
great  European  war.  What  may  hap- 
pen between  now  and  the  hour  these 
words  see  print,  no  man  may  say. 
Germany  may  have  fallen.  The  Kaiser 
may  have  been  assassinated  by  one 
of  his  Socialists.  Empires  and  mon- 
archies may  have  been  overturned 
and  the  world  be  settling  into  one 
vast  republic.  Or  there  may  remain 
four  great  empires  or  nations  which 
under  the  ten  promised  Kings  may 
rule  until  the  real  Armageddon  comes 
upon  us.  In  any  case  we  are  in  the 
time  of  strife  and  trouble  in  which 
"there  shall  be  no  peace  to  him  1:hat 
goeth  out,  nor  to  him  that  cometh  in." 
Whatever  may  be  the  outcome  after 
the  shocking  massacre  of  millions  _  of 
men,  it  is  a  time  now  for  humiliation 
of  spirit,  for  prayer  and  for  watching. 
Though  Christ  shall  come  upon  us 
"like  a  thief  in  the  night,"  He  has 
undoubtedly  given  us  many  warnings, 
and  he  is  but  a  fool  who  passes  by 
with  a  laugh,  unseeing  with  his  dull 
eyes  the  fulfilment  of  the  _  ancient 
prophecies  which  stare  at  him  from 
every  headline  of  the  daily  paper. 
The  times  teem  with  the  Signs.  They 
tell  us  that  "the  judge  standeth  at  the 
door  and  bid  us  be  ready — should  the 
Bridegroom   come." 

CANADA'S  WOMEN  HELP 

AT  the  moment  of  writing  Canadian 
women  are  busy  outfitting  the 
Hospital  Ship  presented  to  them  by 
that  mans  of  large  heart  and  open 
hand,  Sir  Thomas  Shaughnessy,  Pre- 
sident of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Rail- 
way. Every  Canadian  woman  should 
have  at  least  a  copper  in  it.  And  I 
think  every  one  of  us  has  gone  as  far 
as  a  nickel  anyway.  That  she  will 
be  splendidly  equipped  we  have  no 
doubt.  That  her  work  may  be  light, 
we  pray.  We  never  hear  the  military 
bands,  the  beating  of  drums,  the  march- 
ing of  many  feet  without  thinking  of 
the  sorrow  of  women. 
"Mary,  pity  women  1" 


// 15  the  Taste,  ihe  Flavor  of 

BAKERS 
COCOA 

That  Makes  It 
Deservedly  Popular 


Registered 
Trade- Mark 

An  absolutely  pure,  deli- 
cious and  wholesome  food 
beverage,  produced  by  a 
scientific  blending  of 
high-grade  cocoa  beans 
subjected  to  a  perfect  me- 
chanical process  of  manu- 
facture. 

Made  in  Canada  by 

Walter  Baker&Co.Limited 

F.atablished  1780 
Montreal,  Can.       Dorchester,  Mau. 


Children 
Teething 

Mothan  should  {ire  only  the  well-knawn 


Doctor  Stedman's 
teething  powders 


TRADE 


MARK 


The  many  mlllioiis  that  «ie  annually  used 
eonttitttte  the  best  testimonial  in  their  fa- 
vor, they  are  gauuitttd  by  the  proprietor 
to  bo  absolutely  free  from  opium. 
See  the  Trade  Mark,  a  Gum  Lancet,  oa 
•Tery  packet  and  powder.  Refuse  all 
not  so  distinculshed. 

Small  Packets,  9  Powders 
Large  Packets,  30  Powders 

OF  ALL  CHEMISTS  AND  DRtie  STOnES. 
HANUFAOTORV:  126  NEW  NORTH  ROAD.  LONDON,  ENBLAIIII. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


349 


To  stay  at  home  quietly  is  not  always 
the  easiest  thing  to  do.  In  women's 
breasts  burn  the  same  patriotic  fires, 
the  same  desire  to  defend,  to  help, 
the  same  excitement  and  longing  to 
be  where  the  heart  of  the  great  world 
leaps  at  the  moment,  as  stirs  the  soul 
of  the  fighting  man;  but  our  part  is 
to  stay  behind  and  hold  the  Fort  of 
Home.  Not  all  of  us  are  able  to  go 
out  as  the  nurses  go — giving  active 
help — but  every  one  of  us  has  the 
desire  to  do  so,  and  every  woman  who 
put  one  copper  into  the  Canadian 
Hospital  Ship  has  helped  actively. 
Woman's  share  in  wars  has  been  the 
passive  but  terrible  one  of  unutterable 
grief  and  loss.  On  her  the  burden 
falls  heaviest.  When  we  read  of  the 
dead  and  dying  who  lie  piled  before 
the  gates  of  the  beleaguered  city  we 
know  that  every  lad  lying  there  was 
somebody's  son  or  father,  or  brother 
or  sweetheart.  There  is  no  man  so 
low  in  the  human  scale,  so  bereft  of 
friends  but  some  woman  cares  for 
him.  And  how  that  woman  may 
suffer  !  Her  cries  of  pain,  her  anguish- 
ed entreaty  must  grieve  the  very 
Heart  of  God. 

THE  WANDERING  BOY 

'PHE  writer  remembers  more  vividly 
^  than  many  another  gruesome 
incident,  the  death  of  a  fair  haired 
boy  on  the  apparently  abandoned  ship 
that  brought  back  to  the  United 
States  some  of  the  Boys  in  Blue  who 
fought  so  valiantly  in  Cuba  for  Old 
Glory.  He  was  a  boy  of  the  Michigan 
Rifles — or  some  Michigan  regiment — 
and  was  far  gone  in  fever.  The  night 
before  he  went  away  forever,  he  was 
crooning  "Oh,  Where  is  my  Wander- 
ing Boy  to-night — "  as  though  the 
very  soul  of  his  mother  were  crying 
within  him.  It  was  a  murky  and  hot 
and  desolate  night,  and  we  were 
tramping  heavily  up  from  Santiago. 
The  soldiers  were  lying  three  and  two 
in  a  bunk,  and  the  mate  of  the  dying 
lad  lay  with  his  shoulder  turned  from 
him,  asleep.  There  was  hardly  any 
light  in  the  pit  of  the  ship,  and  the 
'"  eat  and  stench  was  sickening.  Bab- 
bling his  little  song,  the  young  soldier 
fell  into  his  last  sleep  as  the  day  broke 
and  the  shadows  fled  away.  He  had 
wandered  far — poor  boy  who  had 
never  fired  a  shot,  never  laid  eyes  on 
an  enemy,  but  had  all  the  same  died 
for  his  Flag.  And  I  thought  of  his 
mother,  as  I  wiped  the  death  sweat 
from  his  face  with  a  small  American 
flag,  and  I  felt  a  shadow  of  the  inex- 
pressible grief  and  pain  that  would 
fall  on  her —  as  one  mother  would  for 
another.  They  buried  him  in  the 
great  sea  at  dawn,  without  cover  or 
shroud — or  weights —  for  all  had  been 
used  for  others,  and  there  was  nothing 
left  for  him.     Over  he  went  starkly  in 


^ 


VM^ 


\^i 


In  Spotless  Town  this  teacher  rules 

The  new  Domestic  Science  Schools. 
"A  little  loaf  is  g^ood,"  she  said. 
'It  helps  to  make  us  t>etter  bred." 

We  soften  crusty  natures  so 

By  polishing:  with 

;z^P(o)[LD© 


X 


TRY  this  on  your  dirtiest, 
greasiest  pan : 

Rub  just  the  amount  of 
SapoHo  you  need  on  a  damp 
cloth.  Scour  the  black  sur- 
face of  the  pan. 

Sapolio  quickly  drives  the 
(rease  and  grime) 

Sapolio  keeps  your  hands 
soft  and  works  without  waste. 


X. 


Out!) 


I  I 


I 


I 


n\ 


FREE  SURPRISE  FOR  CHILDREN 
dear  children: 

We  have  a  surprise  for  you 
a  toy  spotless  town-  just  like  the 
real  one,  only  smaller.  it  is  8 'a 
inches  long.  the  nine  c9)  cunni ng 
people  of  spotless  town,  in  colors, 
are  ready  to  cut  out  and  stand  up. 
sent  free  on  request. 

Enoch  Morgan's  Sons  Company,   Sole  Manufacturers,    New  York  City 


SAPOttlO 


■^wmmmim,. 


his  stained  blue  uniform,  the  sun 
glinting  on  his  fair  head — and  down 
a-wandering  went  he  into  the  depths 
of  the  mighty  ocean. 

A-far  wandering,  O  poor  mother  who 
was  watching  and  waiting  at  home 
for  the  boy  who  marched  away  so 
gaily  with  his  regiment  but  would 
return  no  more. 

And  this  is  why,  perhaps — when  I 
hear  the  throb  of  the  drum,  and  the 
clear  call  of  the  bugle,  .uid  the  sound 
of    marching    feet    coming    down    the 


street — I  think  never  of  the  glory  of 
victory,  the  return  of  the  triumphant 
troops,  the  adoration  of  the  populace, 
but  always  of  the  women  behind  the 
closed  doors  who  will  be  mourning  for 
the  touch  of  the  vanished  hand,  and 
the  sound  of  the  beloved  voice  that 
will  never  be  heard  again. 

QUEEN   MARY 

DKRHAPS  the  most  Christian  woman 
^  in  England  is  Queen  Mary.  She 
is  undoubtedly  a  holy  woman.     They 


350 


CANADA  MONTLHY 


X- 


Points  About  Jaeger  Sweaters 


EVERY  man,  woman  and  child  in  Canada  needs  a  good  Sweater 
for  sports  wear  at  all  seasons  and  for  warmth  on  cool  evenings 
— one  that  will  fit  snugly,  look  well  an  I  wear  well. 
The  points  in  a  Jaeger  Sweater  include — pure  wool,  well  knitted, 
well  made,  latest  styles,  with  or  without   collars,    and    at    moderate 
prices. 

For  sale  at  Jaeger  Stores  and  Agencies  throughout  the  Dominion. 


DrJAEGERiSOi 


MONTREAL 


Boysr-Here's  an  Offer 

from  Matthewson,  the 

World's   Greatest 

Baseball  Pitcher 


You  do  a  little  spare  time  work 
for  Matthewson,  and  he  will  show 
you  in  return  how  to  pitch  pRFF 
his    Fade -Away   curve  '  ■■^" 


Now.  boys,  is  the  chance  to  show 
what  you're  made  of.  Here's  Matthew- 
son. the  great  Christy  Matthewson. 
who  is  the  idol  and  the  hero  of  baseball 
fans,  who  has  won  five  championships 
for  the  New  York  Giants  by  his  superb 
pitching— willing  to  show  you  all  the 
mside  secrets  of  his  famous^  "fade- 
away" curve  and  coach  you  into  be- 
coming the  boy-wonder  pitcher  of 
your  town,  if  you  have  the  grit  and 
gameness  to  work  a  little  during  your 
spare  time. 

But  you've  got  to  show  Matthewson 
that  your  blood  is  red.  "Matty"  is 
one  of  the  finest  fellows  alive  and  he*ll 
Jhow  you  how  to  just  make  all  the 


other  boys  in  your  town  look  like 

monkey's  when  you're  pitching;  but 
you've  got  to  work  to  make  good. 
You  never  can  be  a  good  base-ball 
pitcher  if  you're  not  game,  and  if 
you're  not  game  enough  to  sell  a  few 
papers  and  collect  for  them  during 
spare  time  each  week  to  get  Matthew- 
son's  lessonsin  Pitching,  why  Matthew- 
son doesn't  want  you. 

But  if  you're  a  "live  one,"  *  Matty"  will 
take  you  into  his  confidence,  explain  his 
secrets  of  strikinf?  out  batters  to  you,  and 
show  you  everything  plain  as  A-B-C  bo 
the  other  boys  simply  can't  have  a  chance 
against  you.  and  in  addition  you  have  plenty 
of  pocket  money  all  the  time, 


Here  Is  Maiihewson's  SPECIAL  FREE  OFFER 


9,  L 

bhfi 


To  learn  to  be  a  real  pitcher  takes  nerve  and  work.  Boys  with  "yellow  streaks**  in  them 
aren't  worth  Matthewson's  time.  If  you  want  to  be  one  of  his  boys,  workirig  and  train* 
ing  under  him.  you  have  got  to  show  bim  your  gameness  right  from  the  start. 

When  you  sign  and  mail  the  coupon,  you  will  receive  away"  twist  on  it.  Yoo  most 
Matthewson's  first  lesson— FKEE.  You  will  also  be  work  every  day  atit  until  yoa 
sent  a  package  of  Saturday  Blades  and  Chicago  can  fool  every  boy  m  your  town. 
Ledgers,  You  are  to  deliver  the  Blades  and  Ledgers  Matthewson  will  show  you  how 
to  the  regular  customers  and  collect  the  money  for  to  do  it,  but  you  must  have  the 
them.  It  is  on  the  way  you  make  good  withthe  ambition  and  industry  to  prac- 
papers  sent  you  that  depends  your  future  with  the  tice  it.  Now.  do  you  want  to  be 
baseball  lessons.    Make  good,  boy,  and  you'll  never    one  of  Matthewson's  boys?  Only 

regret  it.    Show  Matthewson  that  you're  a  true  blue     one  boy  in  a  town  can  be  it.  Are         

fcoy  who  is  deserving  of  his  teaching.  You  can  be  you  ambitious  to  know  the  professional's  mettiod  of 
;^e  champion  lx>y  pitcher  of  your  town.  Just  practice  pitching?  Do  you  really  want  to  master  Matthewson's 
what  Matthewson  tells  you.  wonderful  "fade-away"  curve?    Then  make  up  yoor 

Learn  just  how  to  grip  the  ball,  how  to  place  your     mind  to  get  rid  of  every  speck  of  laziness  Eind  start  to 
feet,  how  to  swing  your  arm,  how  to  put  the  "fade-     work  for  the  great  Matthewson  and  learn  from  him. 

CpCE  This  Personal  Instruction  from 
1!!ZZ  Matty  Is  an  Honor  for  Any  Boy 

It's  an  honor  few  boys  can  attain— to  get  personal 
{instruction  from  a  pitcher  like  Matthewson  —  the  greet- 
wt  pitcher  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Only  one  boy  in  a 
town  may  have  it— write  today.  Send  no  money— simply 
iVlnrAVd  *^^^  ^^^   coupon.       The    first    preat   lesson   by 


how    to    throw  the 


'^  \P       wBh«^^  by" return  mail.    Go  right   to   it— make  good. 
■^  gJSfffan  idl«,_Corne^alon^^.    "-'    "^    -    ~-- 


Y3fITiii^tt»©WI%       SEND    THE 


fade-away'" 
it  —  maki    _ 
and  g«t  in  with 


SEND  ME  MATTHEWSON'S 
LESSON  FREE. 

Count  me  in  aa  one  of  MatthewKin's  boys  who 
wanta  to  know  how  to  throw  hia  famoua  eurvea. 
Send  atonif  the  Bladea  and  Ledgers  and  1  will  seO. 
them  and  collect  the  money. 


Addreu  - 

Mail  to  W.  D.  Bojrce  Co..  Oept,  12 :  Ctaicag* 


tell  a  pretty  story — quite  true  and 
authentic — of  how  hearing  a  certain 
missionary  preach  in  London  when 
she  was  "Princess  May"  and  was  with 
her  mother,  the  beloved  Uuchess  of 
Tcck,  she  got  that  lady  to  invite  the 
preacher  to  the  White  Lodge  there  to 
give  an  address  to  a  number  of  the 
great  ladies  of  the  Court.  Driving 
with  the  missionary  to  White  Lodge 
the  Princess  remarked: 

"It  is  a  great  comfort  to  feel  that 
one  is  almost  assured  of  being  saved." 
The  missionary  asked  her  how  she 
came  to  feel  that  assurance,  and  she 
replied  simply: 

"Because  of  a  little  tract  a  poor 
woman  sent  me  once.  It  came 
addressed  to  me  without  a  word  or 
name,  and  ever  since  I  have  felt  the 
happy  assurance  that  I  was  in  the 
right  way  towards  salvation."  The 
name  of  the  little  tract  is  "Safety, 
Certainty,  and  Enjoyment." 

The  present  King  •  and  Queen  are 
indeed  Christian  people.  You  will 
hear  persons  say  that  King  George  is 
a  weakling  as  compared  with  his  much 
beloved  father  Edward  VII.  But 
the  contrary  is  the  case.  King  George 
is  in  every  way  the  greater  man.  You 
will  hear  Queen  Mary  spoken  of  as 
"the  knitting  Queen."  You  will  read 
about  her  in  the  American  papers  as 
old  fashioned  in  manners,  and  dowdy 
in  dress,  and  "bossy"  in  character,  but 
she  is  really  the  Valiant  Woman  of 
the  Scriptures — a  greater  woman  than 
Alexandra,  or  even  than  Queen 
Victoria.  She  lives  a  perfect  Chris- 
tian Hfe.  Her  heart — far  from  being 
narrow  or  unsympathetic — teems  with 
charity  and  affectionate  regard  to- 
wards the  weak  or  unfortunate, 
especially  for  poor  mothers  and  poor 
children.  She  leans  absolutely  on  God 
and  the  Bible  and  regulates  her  life 
according  to  all  that  is  wise  and  good. 
She  is  so  good  and  modest  that  the 
more  fri^•olous  Court  ladies  consider 
her  humdrum  and  staid,  and  some- 
times, in  secret,  laugh  at  her. 

But — England  has  had  no  greater 
Queen. 

FOOLISH  PROPHETS 

T"HE  annual  prophets  missed  a  great 
■'■  opportunity.  Not  one  of  them 
foretold  a  great  war — not  even  a 
little  war.  Old  Moore,  in  fact,  has 
been  quite  premature.  He  is  out 
with  the  1915  predictions  already. 
A  most  peaceful  year  1  A  year  worth 
waiting  for  !  O  wise  Old  Moore  !  A 
Member  of  Parliament  in  West- 
minster will  pass  over  to  the  majority; 
likewise  a  painter  of  note,  whereupon 
there  will  be  joy  in  the  studios.  A 
regular-line,  stock-size  sort  of  year, 
1915.  There  seems  no  urgent  neces- 
sity for  trying  to  remove  to  another 
planet.     We   think   Old   Moore   must 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


351 


I 

■ 


have  been  prophesying  in  his  sleep  ! 

The  pictures  are  the  finest  thing  in 
placid  Old  Moore.  They  are  the  usual 
jumble  of  men  and  beasts,  angels 
and  the  other  sort,  bagpipes  and 
Noah's  Arks.  March  celebrates  the 
apotheosis  of  the  Pig,  and  we  hate  to 
think  that  Old  Moore  had  the  seven- 
teenth of  Ireland  in  his  eye  when  he 
drew  it. 

For  there  is  a  pig,  an  obese  pig, 
seated  in  an  armchair  watching  two 
cats — presumably  from  Kilkenny — 
fighting  near  by.  In  the  May  picture 
we  see  a  burdened  elephant — probably 
sent  by  Dr.  Singh — a  tent  erected  on 
his  back,  and,  hanging  on  a  sort  of 
telephone  transmitter  which  emerges 
from  the  tent,  is  a  severed  human 
head.  "The  tent,"  says  the  ancient 
Moore,  "points  to  trouble  not  to  say 
crime." 

As  a  last  word  the  venerable  Sage 
tells  us  that  important  and  talented 
people  will  find  1915  worth  waiting 
for.  Promotion  is  sure  to  come  to 
some  of  them.  A  well-known  actor 
is  to  have  an  exceptionally  sad  end — 
and  a  well-staged  funeral  in  June. 

This  with  a  world-war  raging  in 
1914. 

LITTTE  BIG  MEN 

VOUR  little  man  is  frequently  very 
big.  The  smallest  man,  except 
midshipmen,  in  the  British  Navy  is 
Vice-Admiral  Sir  John  Rushworth 
Jellicoe,  K.  C.  B.  who  is  in  command 
of  Great  Britain's  North  Sea  fleet  as 
full  Admiral.  He  is  a  stout  little 
man  with  a  strong  kindly  face.  You 
would  never  suspect  him  of  being  a 
martinet,  but  his  men  know  him  to 
be  one  of  the  strictest  of  commanders, 
and  to  him  our  navy  owes  its  com- 
plete reorganization  and  immense  im- 
provement in  gunnery  practice.  He 
is  fifty-five  and  as  hale  and  hearty  as 
a  boy.  He  has  had  many  escapes 
from  death.  He  was  one  of  the  very 
few  officers  savod  when  the  Camper- 
down  rammed  the  Victoria — a  catas- 
trophe that  came  like  a  bolt  from 
the  blue  twenty  years  ago.  In  the 
Boxer  War  Sir  John  was  shot  through 
the  lungs,  but  you  would  never  know 
it  if  you  saw  him  standing — his  legs 
wide  apart — issuing  orders  from  his 
Admiral's  perch — whatever  part  of  a 
man-o'-war  that  may  be.  He  is  a 
darling  little  man  all  through,  and 
was  the  bantam-weight  boxer  of  his 
day  and  a  dandy  at  football.  The 
sort  of  man  a  fine,  big,  tall,  healthy 
girl  would  go  mad  about,  and  did,  and 
gave  him  three  girls  as  pretty  and  as 
fine  as  herself.  He  lives  in  London, 
and  it  was  the  Pedlar's  pleasure  more 
than  once  to  walk  a  pace  or  so  behind 
him,  and  wonder  at  the  amount  of 
gfXKl  dry  fKiwder  that  can  be  stored 
up  in  one  small   magazine-man. 


A  25  Cent  Size. 

Quaker  Oats  is  put  up  in  both  the  large  25  cent  package  and  the 
10  cent  size.  The  larger  size  saves  buying  so  often — saves  running  out. 
Try  it — see  how  long  it  lasts. 


tudj  Tim( 


Demands  a  Breakfast  of 
Delicious  Quaker  Oats 

With  school-time  comes  the  time  for  Quaker  Oats — the 
finest  form  of  Nature's  choicest  food. 

It  abounds  in  the  elements  which  active  brains  require. 
One  large  dish  supplies  the  energy  for  five  or  six  hours  of  study. 

As  a  food  for  growth,  as  a  vim-producer,  nothing  else 
compares  with  Quaker  Oats. 

Don't  serve  as  a  dainty  only — in  little  dishes  just  to  start 
the  meal.  Children  need  an  abundance.  Begin  every  school 
day  with  a  liberal  dish.     It  will  better  the  day. 


Just  the  Large,  Luscious  Flakes 

Quaker  is  made  of  just  the  big  plump  grains.  They  have 
the  greatest  food  value,  the  most  luscious  flavor.  We  get 
but  ten  pounds  of  Quaker  Oats  from  a  bushel. 

This  extra  quality  means  a  delightful  dish.  It  means 
rare  aroma  and  taste.  You  can  have  it  every  morning  at  no 
extra  price  if  you  simply  order  Quaker. 

10c  and  25c  per  package 
Except  in  far  West. 

(»M) 


352 


CANADA   MONTHLY   ADVERTISER 


The  Greatest  Motor  Car  Value  Ever  Offered 


Now,  with  pride,  we  an- 
nounce our  latest  car^ — 
Model  80— the  greatest 
value  this  factory  has  ever 
placed  on  the  market. 

Model  80  has  a  brand-new 
stream-line  body.  Its  full 
sweeping  stream-lines  blend  and 
harmonize  perfectly  with  the 
balance  of  the  symmetrical 
design.  All  visible  lines  are 
absolutely  clean,  unbroken  and 
uninterrupted. 

The  new  crowned  moulded 
fenders,  new  rounded  radiator, 
new  hood  slightly  sloped,  and 
flush  U  doors  with  disappearing 
hinges,  contribute  the  addition- 
al touches  of  exterior  grace  and 
modishness  which  distinguish 
costly  imported  cars. 

The  new  tonneau  is  much 
larger — both  in  width  and  depth. 

The  new  cushioned  uphol- 
stery is  also  considerably 
deeper  and  softer. 

This  model  is  equipped  with 
the  finest  electric  starting  and 


electric  lighting  system.  All 
switches,  in  a  compact  switch 
box,  are  conveniently  located 
on  the  steering  column.  Thus, 
in  the  driving  position,  with- 
out stretching  forward  or 
bending  down,  you  start  the 


^' 


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0 
I! 

i 

0 
l! 
[i 
I! 
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i 


[=](=]  [=ii^[=)  [=][=][=]  [=][=][=] 

A  Few  of  the  1915 
Model  80  Features 


% 


Motor  35  h.  p. 
New  full  stream-line  body 
Instrument  board  in  cowl  dash 
Individual  front  seats,  high  backs 
Tonneau,  longer  and  wider 
Upholstery,  deeper  and  softer 
Windshield,  rain  vision,  ventilating 

type,  built-in 
Crowned  fenders 
Electric  starter 
Electric  lights 
High-tension  magneto 
Thermo-syphon  cooling 
Fivt-bearing  crankshaft 
Rear  axle,  floating  type 
Spring,  rear,  3-4  elliptic,  extra  long, 

underslung 
Wheeloase,  114  inches 
Larger  tires,  34  inch  x  4  inch 
Demountable  rims — one  extra 
Left-hand  drive 
Beautiful  new  Brewster  green  body 

finish 
_    Complete  equipment 

^[=l[=][=][=lE][=l[=lI=ll=ll=)l=]t^ 

Handsome  1915  Catalogue  on  request. 

Please  address  Dept.  3 


car,  drive  the  car  and  control 
the  electric  horn  and  all  head, 
side,  tail  and  dash  lights. 

This  car  has  left-hand  drive  and 
center  control. 

The  tires  are  larger  this  year,  be- 
ing 34  inch  by  4  inch  all  around. 
These  tires  can  be  quickly  detached 
from  the  rims  which  are  demountable. 
One  extra  rim  furnished. 

Ignition  is  high  tension  magneto, 
independent  of  starting  and  lighting 
system.     It  requires  no  dry  cells. 

This  new  Overland  rides  with 
remarkable  smoothness,  taking  the 
ruts  and  rough  spots  with  the  ease 
of  the  highest  priced  cars. 

There  is  the  famous,  powerful, 
speedy,  snappy,  economical  and  quiet 
35  horsepower  Overland  motor;  and  a 
long  wheelbase  of  114  inches. 

This  car  comes  complete.  Elec- 
tric starter,  electric  lights,  built-in 
windshield,  mohair  top  and  boot, 
extra  rim,  jeweled  magnetic  speed- 
ometer, electric  horn,  robe  rail,  foot 
rest  and  curtain  box. 

This  new  model  is  ready  for  your 
inspection  in  practically  every  city 
and  town  in  the  country. 

Dealers  are  now  taking  orders. 
Make  arrangements  now  for  your 
demonstration. 


The  Willys- Overland  of  Canada,  Limited,  Hamilton,  Ont. 


Two  passenger  Roadster,  $1390. 


Prices  f.  o.  b.  Hamilton,  Ont. 


Please  mention  Canada  Mohthly  when  you  write  to  advertisers 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


353 


I 


Admiral  Sir  George  Callaghan, 
K.  C.  B.,  was  not  born  in  Italy  as  you 
might  at  first  imagine,  but  in  good 
old  County  Cork.  He  commands  the 
British  First  Sea  Fleet,  or  Home 
Fleet,  and  is  Britain's  greatest  naval 
adviser  on  fortifications.  'Tis  what 
Betty  would  call  "a  quare  brood  of 
thim"  they  have  on  land  and  sea. 
Bobs  of  Waterford,  K.  of  K.,— Kerry, 
as  well  as  Khartoum, — Callaghan  of 
Cork,  Carson  of  Belfast,  Redmond  of 
Dublin,  and  every  other  mother's  son 
of  them  from  the  top  of  Ulster  to  the 
last  edge  of  the  bog  in  Munster.  Not 
all  of  them  are  little,  as  witness  Sir 
Edward  of  Ulster,  K.  of  K.,  and  Cal- 
laghan of  Cork,  but  two  of  them  are, 
wee  Bobs  and  Redmond,  while  Jelli- 
coe,  Englishman,  and  able  British  sea- 
man, is  king  pin  of  them  all. 


Vi/HAT  will  come  out  of  the  war  ? 
Will  it  be  one  vast  Republic,  the 
triumph  of  Socialism,  of  Peace,  the 
swifter  advance  of^Science,  the  uplift 
of  Man  to  the  very  throne  of  God  ? 
Will  there  be  a  parliament  of  the 
nations,  an  assembly  of  ten  kings  or 
governors,  a  re-distribution  of  the 
nations  with  one  who  shall  lead  the 
rest,  a  king  of  kings  and  lord  of  lords  ? 
The  universal  clash  has  occurred — 
the  map  of  Europe  and  Asia  must  be 
entirely  altered.  What  will  be  the 
outcome  ?  Kiv  lnu 

Looked  at  from  the  spiritual  side 
it  is  a  time  for  humiliation  and  careful 
living.  It  is  no  time  for  gathering 
riches  or  power,  for  lusting  after  any 
of  the  so-called  precious  things  of 
this  world.  Even  a  poor  Pedlar,  fond 
of  his  comforts  though  he  most  human- 
ly be,  has  no  desire  to  become  a  mil- 
lionaire or  try  to  travel  through  the 
eye  of  a  needle.  To  wiser  than  he, 
must  be  left  the  readjustment  of  the 
things  of  this  world,  though,  like 
others,  he  too,  has  visions. 

THE  TRAGEDY  OF  BOBS 

A  LL  this  time  the  Man  at  the  Cross- 
roads  is  waiting  to  unload  a  peck 
of  wares  for  our  Pack — little  wares, 
the  needles  and  threads,  the  tapes  and 
thimbles  of  gossip.  Here  he  is,  pipe 
a-light,  leaning  on  the  stile  and  watch- 
ing a  blood-red  sun  setting  over  a 
blood-red  world. 

"One  thing,"  he  says,  "is  sure — ■" 
(we  will  not  tire  you  with  too  much 
brogue),  "and  that  is  that  for  once 
Ireland  is  unittxl.  I  believe  Boync 
Billy  and  Dirty  James  would  march 
shoulder  to  shoulder  if  they  were 
alive  to-day.  There's  only  wan  man 
living  that  I  pity,  and  that  is  little 
ould  Bobs,  the  biggest  hayro  of  them 
all.  He's  eighty-two,  and  off  the 
firing  line,  and  his  heart  is  broke 
entirely  because  he  spent  himself  on 


No-Rim-Cut  Prices 

uy  All  a  Tire  Can  Give 


When  you  pay  more — from  $5  to  $15 
more — you  waste  that  extra  money. 
You  lose,  in  addition,  the  four  great 
features  whicb  made  Goodyear  the 
leading  tire.  Look  at  the  facts — the 
records.  There  is  no  way  known  to 
build  a  better  tire  than  Goodyears, 
measured  by  cost  per  mile.  Not  at  ten 
imes  our  price. 


18  Higher  Prices 

We  make  these  facts  emphatic, 
because  18  American  and  Canadian 
makes  are  selling  now  at  more 
than  Goodyear  prices. 

No-Rim-Cut  prices  have  gone 
down  and  down,  to  one-half  former 
prices.  We  have  built  new  fac- 
tories, installed  new  machinery, 
and  multiplied  our  output.  We 
have  reduced  our  profits.  And  we 
are  content  with  small  profits.. 

Now,  with  the  increased  capa- 
city of  Goodyear  plants,  no  rival 
can  compete  on  an  equal  grade 
of  tire. 

That's  the  reason  for  those  higher 
prices.  They  do  not  mean  that 
others  have  excelled  us. 

What  Extra  Prices  Never  Buy 

No  extra  price  can  buy  a  tire 
with  our  No-Rim-Cut  feature. 
That  has  wiped  out  completely 
the  costliest  item  in  upkeep. 

No  extra-price  tire  gets  the  "On- 
Air"  cure. 
We  employ 
this  process 
at  a  tremen- 
dous extra 
cost  to  us,  to 
save  the 
countless 
blow-outsduc 
to  wrinkled 
fabrics. 


GOOD^OTEAR 

CiS«^  TORONTO 

NORIMCUT  TIRES 

With  All- Weather  Treads  or  Smooth 


No  other  tire,  at  any  price,  con- 
tains hundreds  of  large  rubber 
rivets  created  to  combat  tread 
separation. 

And  no  price  buys  another  tire 
with  our  All-Weather  tread.  This 
anti-skid,  tough  and  double-thick, 
is  as  flat  and  smooth-running  as  a 
plain  tread.  Yet  it  grasps  wet 
roads  with  deep,  resisting,  sharp- 
edged  grips. 

All  higher-priced  tires  lack  all 
these  features  found  in  No-Rim- 
Cut  tires.  And  they  are  the 
greatest  features  known  in  tire 
making. 

Millions  of  Records 

Millions  of  Goodyear  tires  have 
been  tried  out  on  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  cars.  The  result  is 
shown  by  Goodyear  sales — the 
largest  in  the  world.  And  there 
was  never  a  time  when  men  came 
to  Goodyears  as  fast  as  they  are 
coming  to-day,  here  in  Canada  as 
well  as  in  the  United  States.  Don't 
pay  a  higher 
Iirice  for  tires 
with  lesser 
records. 

Almost  any 
dealer,  if  you 
ask  him,  will 
supply  you 
Good  yea  r 
tires. 


THE  GOODYEAR  TIRE  &  RUBBER  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LIMITED 

Head  Office,  Toroolo  Taclory,  Bowmanvilla,  Ont. 

FOR  SALE  BY  ALL  DEALERS. 


■ 


A  pointer 
for 
pencil 
buyers 


Blaisdells 
save 


We  arc- 
constantly  in- 
vestigating th 
pencil  item  of  big  con- 
cerns (without  cost  to 
them)  and  proving  that 
Blaisdell  paper  pencils 
cut  their  wooden  pencil 
costs  one-fourth  to^one-third  (not  to 
mention  the  time'fii  whittling  saved). 
Blaisdells  are  "  the  best  buy "  from 
every  standpoint  of  economy,  conven- 
ience, and  cleanliness.  An  inquiry 
will  bring  you  the  same  kind  of  proof. 

Blai»delT72bc^(hrriror  soft)  Is  an 
indelible  copying  pencil  without^  an 
equal.  It  yields  seven  copies  and  is  a 
wonder  in  "lasting"  quality.  Order 
by  number  from  your  stationer. 
TlierH  are  B]ais<I.,-lIs  of  every  kiiiii  fnr  every  purpose. 

PciicilH  SI i.ljly  impriiiteii  fur  ;iilvertisiii^'  purj-osfs. 

Sold  by  all  progressive  Ctmadian  Stniioners. 


Salesmen  Wanted 

We  have  several  openings  for  live  business 
getting  salesmen  with  good  records.  Ad- 
dress salesraanager. 

JAMES  P.  EASTON  &  COMPANY 
126  Victoria  Square  Montreal 


KITCHEN 
and 


PANTRY 


ALL 


m 


ONE! 


T-HE  great  feature  about  a  KNECHTEL 
*  KITCHEN  KABINET  is  that  it  provides  one 
place  in  which  everything  for  kitchen  use  may  be 
kept.  There  are  dust-prbof  canisters,  jars  and 
bins,  flour  sifter,  sugar  holder,  sliding  shelves,  dish 
racks,  pot  and  pan  receptacle  and  bright  aluminum 
extension  top  that  forms  a  clean,  sanitary  work 
board  when  pulled  out. 

With  a  KNECHTEL  KITCHEN  KABINET 
you  can  sit  down  to  your  work  and  have  everything 
ready  to  hand.  We  make  them  in  many  handsome 
styles  and  several  sizes.  Write  for  Booklet  "  M  " 
showing  the  various  designs. 

Ix>ok  for  the  Trade  Mark 


SOLO  BY 

BEST 

FURNITURE 

STORES 

IN  EVERY 

TOWN 
AND  CITY. 

The  Knechtel  Kitchen  Cabinet 
Co.,  Ltd. 

HANOVER,  ONTARIO. 


NECHTEL 
ITCHEN 
,ABINET 


REGISTERED 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

little  wars.  'Here's  me  opportunity,' 
he  sez,  '  an'  I'm  beyant  it.'  There's 
a  good  dale  of  thradgedy  in  the  world, 
Pedlar,  me  boy,  but  this  is  wan  of  the 
biggest  of  them.  The  poor  little  man 
an'  the  heart  of  him  breaking  to  be 
at  it  wid  big  Kitchener  and  Callaghan. 
They  took  him  into  the  Council 
chamber,  they  say,  but  the  divil  a 
wurrd  the  little  man  had  to  say,  only 
sat  twiddlin'  his  thumbs  like  a  child. 
'Tis  too  bad  a  man's  body  to  be 
eighty-two  while  his  heart  is  twenty- 
five.  But  what  throubles  Bobs  most 
of  all  is  that  he  hasn't  chick  or  child 
to  put  his  feet  in  his  war  shoes  and 
trek  it  across  to  help  little  Belgium. 
Not  that  she  needs  help,  the  spunky 
crathur.  The  Bantam  of  the  nations 
she  is,  and  that  reminds  me  of  a  game 
Bantam  me  father  had  that  was  never 
licked  in  any  pit  from  Dublin  to 
Derry.  He  lost  every  feather  on  him 
an'  wan  eye,  in  a  battle  with  a  big 
yellow  and  black  roosther  from  the 
County  Clare,  but  not  till  he  killed 
the  Clare  man  dead  as  a  landlord. 
Naked  and  unashamed  he  stood  up 
there  and  flapped  what  was  left  of  his 
right  wing  at  an  admirin'  augience. 
Its  the  same  with  Belgium,  but  me 
heart's  heavy  for  poor  little  ould 
Bobs.  By  the  way,  over  beyond  the 
hill  there  we  have  two  fine  game 
chickens — Carson  and  Redmond,  and 
what  d'ye  think  they  did  when  we 
set  them  for  a  round  the  other  night  ? 
Lie  down  they  did,  like  two  ould 
broodin'  hens,  and  that  was  before  a 
war  dhrum  sounded,  and  while  Home 
Rule  was  still  in  the  ring." 

And  he  spat  disgustedly. 

"Tis  a  story  or  two  we  were  looking 
for  from  you,  and  not  bletherings 
about  the  war,"  we  told  him,  but 
with  a  shoulder-shrug  he  walked 
moodily  away. 

SHIPS  OF  WAR 

r^NLY  the  other  day  a  test  mobili- 
zation  of  the  fleet  was  carried  out, 
and  the  display  of  Britain's  might — 
the  greatest  the  world  has  ever  seen — 
took  place  before  the  King  and  Prince 
of  Wales.  Let  us  look  at  it  in  this 
hour  of  war,  as  they  saw  it  at  Spithead 
a  few  weeks  ago,  and  then  only  a  part 
of  it. 

Eight  battle  squadrons  of  fifty-five 
ships.  One'  battle  cruiser  squadron 
of  four  ships.  Eight  cruiser  squadrons 
of  twenty  armoured  and  ten  protected 
cruisers.  One  light  cruiser  squadron 
of  six  ships.  One  training  squadron 
of  seven  old  but  protected  cruisers. 
One  mine-layer  squadron  of  seven 
ships.  Thirteen  torpedo  flotillas  of 
one  hundred  and  eighty  seven  de- 
stroyers and  eighty-three  torpedo 
boats.  Nine  flotillas  of  fifty-nine  sub- 
marines. It  was  found  impossible  to 
moor  four  hundred  and  ninety-three 


ships  at  Spithead  for  which  reason  the 
King  was  unable  to  review  the  whole 
force  on  the  one  day. 

This  is  what  the  King  saw. 

A  double  line — twenty  miles  in 
length — of  mobile  floating  forts,  racing 
battleship  cruisers,  gunboats,  destroy- 
ers, torpedo-boats,  and  submarines, 
or  £700,000,000  of  war  vessels  man- 
oeuvring in  a  half  gale,  flying  the  flags 
of  twenty-five  admirals.  Never  was 
there  a  more  majestic  parade  of  the 
world's  greatest  navy. 

And  to-day — when  you  read  this — 
what  shall  have  happened?  As  I 
write,  we  are  in  the  beginning  of  things. 
Is  it  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  all 
things? 

Editor's  Note: — Since  the  above 
was  written,  it  has  been  learned  that 
a  grateful  country  has  placed  Lord 
Roberts  in  command  of  the  forces 
from  the  Overseas  Dominions.  We 
at  once  telegraphed  the  good  news  to 
the  Man  at  the  Crossroads,  who  lives 
somewhat  away  from  the  beaten  track. 
His  reply  arrived  a  moment  ago.  We 
give  it  verbatim.  "Dnaleri-La  Mal- 
deys.  More  power  to  th'  bantam. 
He'll  bate  them  yet!" 

HARVEST 

QEPTEMBER  —  the  month  of 
mystery  1  Good-bye,  love  songs 
and  roses,  and  welcome,  misty,  beauti- 
ful landscapes  ! 

The  harvest  moon  of  August  has 
rejoiced  the  heart  of  the  husbandman 
and  his  summer  fallow  is  ready  for  his 
wheat.  The  stubble  has  been  gleaned 
by  the  meadow  lark,  the  bobolinks, 
and  other  migrants  battening  and 
fattening  against  the  time  for  the 
flight  south. 

The  wayside  and  hillside — those  wild 
gardens  of  Nature — are  ready  to  throw 
countless  millions  of  seeds  for  the 
propagation  and  continuance  of  their 
species.  The  thistle-downs;  the  won- 
derful cornucopia  of  the  milkweed, 
full  of  silky  soft  down,  brown  seeds 
fastened  to  each  bunch  of  fine  strands; 
the  joepie  weed,  the  wild  asters  and 
sunflowers;  the  wily  burr  which  relies 
mainly  on  sticking  fast  so  that  it  may 
be  torn  to  pieces  and  its  seeds  dropped, 
— all  animal  and  vegetable  life  is 
making  harvest  for  continuance  and 
resurrection  after  snows  have  come 
and  gone,  as  we  take  ship  in  our  small 
punt  for  our  one  holiday. 


He  was  a  Boston  man  and  careful  of 
his  grammar  and  of  other  folks'  gram- 
mar. 

He  asked  for  a  man's  comb. 

"Do  you  want  a  narrow  man's 
comb  ?"  asked  the  clerk. 

"No,"  said  the  careful  grammarian, 
"I  want  a  comb  for  a  stout  man  with 
rubber  teeth." 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


355 


.^^ 


Buyers  to  Share  in  Profits 
Lower  Prices  on  Ford  Cars 

Effective  from  August  ist,  iqi4,to  August  ist,  1915, and 
guaranteed   against   any  reduction  during  that  time. 

Touring  Car  ....  $590 

Runabout 540 

Town  Car 840 

F.O.B.  Ford,  Ontario 
In  the  Dominion  of  Canada  Only 

FURTHER  we  will  be  able  to  obtain  the  maximum  efficiency 
in  our  factory  production,  and  the  minimum  cost  in  our  pur- 
chasing and  sales  departments  IF  we  can  reach  an  output  of 
30.000  cars  between  the  above  dates. 

AND  should  we  reach  this  production  we  agree  to  pay,  as  the 
buyer's  share,  from  $40  to  $60  per  car  (on  or  about  August  1, 
1915)  to  every  retail  buyer  who  purchases  a  new  Ford  car 
between  August  I.  1914.  and  August  1,  1915. 

For  further  particulars  regarding  these  low  prices  and  profit- 
sharing  plan,  see  the  nearest  Ford  Branch  or  Dealer. 

Ford^Motor  Company  of  Canada,  Limited 

"^^fortJ*  Ontario 


356 


CAiNADA  MONTHLY 


f 


V 


THE     COST    of    any    one    of    the 
twenty-five   special    purpose  Un- 
derwoods is  of  minor  importance. 

These  machines  are  designed  to  reduce  oflBce  expense, 
save   time   and   effort,  expedite  business — and  they  do  it. 

TirOR  example,  we   know   of   a   case   where   one 
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\     The  Woman  Of  It 

Continued  from  ])agc  334. 

was  all  dark  save  for  the  light  of  one 
shaded  lamp.  Its  rays  fell  on  the  bed 
and  on  the  marble  face  and  gave  to 
the  latter  a  look  of  life.  Valerie  walked 
across  the  room  swiftly  and  kneeling 
down  beside  Robert  pillowed  his  head 
on  her  bare  shoulder  and  put  her  arms 
round  his  neck. 

For  a  moment  he  endured  her 
caress  and  then  characteristically  he 
tried  to  move  his  head,  so  as  to  free 
himself.  Valerie  quietly  laid  the 
beautiful  head  on  the  pillow  and  rose 
and  looked  at  him.  He  smiled  and 
then  his  eyes  tried  to  find  Denzil. 

"He  wants  you,"  said  Valerie  softly. 

"Yes."  He  spoke  in  painful  gasps. 
"I  want  you — good  friend — always^I 
don't  really  mind,  you  know — my 
voice   would    have   gone — anyhow — " 

"Bob  !"  the  old  name  which  he  had 
used  when  a  boy,  "Bob  !  You  must 
not  die,  old  fellow.  I  can't  do  without 
you  !     I  can't." 

He  smiled  faintly.  "You've  her," 
he  said  with  an  effort." 

Valerie  bent  over  him.  "Have  you 
not  a  word  for  me  ?"  she  cried.  "Just 
one  word,  my  darling.  One  word  to 
give  me  courage.  Robert,  you  love 
me  ?  For  God's  sake  before  you  die, 
say  just  this  once   that  you  do  love 


J' 


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me 


"I  have  never — loved — any  other 
woman — except  just — mother,"  he  said, 
and  with  that  he  turned  to  Denzil, 
smiled   at   him   once  more,   and   died. 

Robert  Sinclair  had  lain  in  his  grave 
for  a  week  before  Denzil  had  summoned 
up  courage  to  face  Valerie.  He  had 
put  her  into  the  motor  and  had  sent 
her  back  to  her  father  and  had  remain- 
ed himself  by  the  bedside  of  his  dead 
friend.  On  that  night  of  watching,  he 
tried  to  put  himself  in  Robert's  place 
with  regard  to  Valerie.  And  as  he  sat 
there  alone  with  his  dead,  he  began  to 
see,  dimly  at  first,  but  more  clearly  as 
he  thought  on,  what  the  meaning  of  it 
all  was.  These  two  had  loved  and  had 
sacrificed  their  love — to  him.  It 
seemed  to  the  humble,  loving,  little 
man,  as  if  it  were  impossible  that 
these  two  dazzling  ones  should  have 
put  himself  in  the  forefront  of  their 
lives,  should  have  given  up  everything, 
for  his  sake. 

He  had  known  for  some  little  time, 
that  Robert  loved  Valerie — indeed  it 
had  been  so  that  he  should  see  once 
more  the  face  of  his  beloved,  that  he 
had  gone  to  bring  Valerie  to  him.  He 
had  not  dreamt  that  Valerie  cared  for 
the  singer — had  not  thought  it  pos- 
sible that  any  man  or  woman  who 
loved  each  other  could  have  behaved 
as  these  two  had  done. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


357 


"I  could  not  have  done  it,"  he  said, 
in  his  humihty.  And  now  it  was  all 
over.  Robert  was  dead — dead  in  the 
full  flush  of  his  youth,  dead  almost 
before  he  had  trod  the  winepress  of 
life.  He  had  just  put  his  lips  to  the 
froth  and  had  sipped  it  lightly — and 
now  he  was  dead  ! 

"I  loved  him,  I  loved  him,  I  loved 
him,"  he  said  to  himself  with  a  sob. 
"He  was  always  a  hero  to  me.  He  is  a 
greater  hero  still,  now  that  I  know  !" 

In  that  quiet  room  as  he  kept  vigil, 
the  little  man's  great  soul  expanded ; 
there  was  not  a  small  thought,  a  fret- 
ful regret.  Robert  Sinclair  had  step- 
ped through  life  as  a  very  perfect 
knight — a  knight  without  fear  or 
reproach,  a  man  whom  the  gods  had 
dowered  with  every,  good  gift  and 
whose  gift  had  been  crowned  with 
death  in  his  flower  ! 

But  he  could  not  go  and  see  Valerie. 
He  said  to  himself  that  she  must  be 
steeped  in  her  grief.  Let  her  mourn, 
poor  child  !  But  he  could  not  mingle 
his  tears  with  hers. 

.And  when  Robert  had  been  dead  a 
few  days,  Denzil  took  it  upon  him- 
self to  look  through  his  papers.  He 
found  hardly  anything  except  a  letter 
to  himself,  which  had  been  addressed, 
but  never  sent  off. 

"Dear  old  man,"  it  said,  "I  feel  most  hor- 
ribly ill,  and  I  can't  help  thinking  that  I  am 
going  to  die.  I  don't  think  I  mind,  very 
much — ^not  now.  Perhaps  if  it  were  in  the 
springtime  and  I  was  walking  through  the 
parks  with  you,  or  sitting  at  Lord's  with  you, 
I  should  have  minded  it  more  !  And  the 
shooting,  too— and  the  moors — and  the  sing- 
ing— but  my  throat  hurts  and  I  could  not 
sing— perhaps  never  again  and  I  don't  think 
I  want  to  live,  if  I  could  not  sing  !  I  should 
always  feel  a  horrid  want.  If  I  die,  I  want 
you  and  Valerie  to  keep  that  bust  of  my 
mother's  and  her  picture  as  a  wedding  present 
— will  you  ?  I  should  hate  to  think  that  my 
father  should  have  it.  He  can  have  every- 
thing else  I  leave,  but  just  not  those  two 
things.  I  can't  forgive  him,  even  if- 1  do  die, 
for  Ijeing  a  brute  to  mother. 

"The  sun  is  shining  as  I  write  and  yet  I  feel 
so  horribly  ill.  Denzil,  old  man,  is  it  not  queer 
to  think,  that  next  year  the  spring  will  come 
and  the  flowers  will  bloom  and  the  sky  will  be 
blue  and  the  winds  will  be  lusty  and  I  shall  not 
be  there  to  see  ?  It  makes  one  wonder  a  little 
bit  what  it  all  means — but  I  am  sure  it  is  quite 
all  right  ! 

".Anyhow  next  year,  you  and  Valeric  will  be 
happy  together — you  must  tell  her  I  said  so." 

"I  am  sure  it  is  quite  all  right  !" 
He  had  said  that  and  he  must  have  felt 
it,  for  he  never  said  what  he  did  not 
believe.  It  comforted  Denzil  a  little 
although  when  he  brought  back  to  him- 
self the  i)icture  of  last  spring  and  of 
Robert  walking  by  his  side,  it  seemed 
to  him  as  if  his  heart  must  break  ! 
How  he  had  enjoyed  his  life  !  How 
blithely  he  had  sung  and  had  acted  and 
had  lightly  walked  his  pathway  of 
fame — and  now  he  was  dead  !  And 
then  the  days  passed  and  still  he  could 
not  go  to  Valerie — she  had  sent  a 
wreath    of    bays    for   the  grave.     He 


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harl  di(!(l  a  conqueror.  But  she  had  not 
sent  a  word,  and  Denzil  felt  as  if  he 
could  not  even  go  to  the  hou.se  where 
she  lived.  He  might  have  stayed 
away  longer  still  than  he  did,  if  he  had 
not  by  chance  stumbled  against  Mar- 
tin. The  millionaire  was  hobbling 
along,  leaning  on  a  stick,  and  his  face 
was  almost  as  worn  as  Denzil's. 

"Hullo,"  said  Martin,  as  Denzil 
would  have  passed  him.  Denzil  stocxl 
still,  but  could  not  .say  anything. 

"Why  don't  you  go  and  see  Valerie?" 


asked  Monro  with  some  effort.  "Are 
you  angry  with  her  ?" 

"Angry  ?  I  angry  ?  I  do  not  come 
because  she  must  hate  the  sight  of  me." 

"I  don't  think  she  does,"  said  Martin, 
pensively.  "If  I  were  you,  I  should 
go!" 

"I  dare  not,  Monro  !" 

Martin  looked  at  him  steadily  for  a 
moment  and  then  he  said  very  simply, 
"I  think  she  wants  consolation." 

"I  could  not  comfort  her.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  me,  she  and  he  might  have 


368 


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TORONTO 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

been  happy— and  he  might  have  been 
alive  !" 

'The  "ifs"  are  in  God's  hands," 
said  Martin,  quietly. 

But  still  Denzil  would  not  go,  until 
one  day,  the  longing  to  see  Valerie 
again  became  so  intolerable,  that  he 
said  to  himself,  that  he  would  be  selfish 
as  usual  and  would  go. 

But  even  then,  when  he  sent  his 
name  up,  he  told  the  servant  to  be 
sure  and  impress  it  on  his  mistress 
that  she  should  not  see  him  unless  she 
wanted  to. 

It  seemed  a  long  time  that  he  was 
waiting  for  him.  He  caught  a  glimpse 
of  himself  in  a  mirror  as  he  stood  there, 
insignificant,  and  looking  smaller  than 
ever  in  the  black  that  he  wore  for  his 
friend.  He  seemed  to  see  Robert's 
handsome  head  towering  above  him. 
He  choked  down  a  sob  as  the  door 
opened  and  Valerie  came  in. 

She  wore  her  ordinary  dress,  not 
mourning,  and  her  lovely  face  was  very 
pale,  very  thin  and  horribly  sad,  but 
she  came  across  to  him  with  the  old, 
quick  gesture  and  laid  her  two  hands 
in  his. 

'  'Why  haVe  you  been  so  long  ?"  she 
asked. 

"Did  you  want  me,  Valerie  ?"  he 
cried. 

"Of  course  I  wanted  you  !  Whom 
should  I  want  but  you  ?" 

"Valerie,  I  thought  you  must  hate 
me  !" 

"But  why  ?"  she  asked  in  wonder. 

"Because  if  it  had  not  been  for  me, 
you  might  have  been  happy — ^with 
him." 

"But  you  were  there,  always,"  she 
said,  "at  the  very  first,  if  he  and  I 
had  wished  it,  we  might  have — "  she 
did  not  finish  her  sentence. 

"But  you  did  wish  it  ?" 

"At  first  I  fought  against  it.  I 
always  knew  that  I  loved  him.  I  did 
not  want  to  love  him.  I  thought  of 
mother's  disappointment  —  that  was 
just  at  first — " 

"Afterwards  ?" 

"Afterwards,  I  would  have  gone  to 
him  if  he  had  been  a  beggar  begging 
his  bread,  if  he  had  been  a  criminal  in 
prison  !" 

"Why  did  you  not,  my  dear  ?" 

"He  would  not,"  she  said.  "Denzil, 
it  was  he  who  was  the  hero  always.  I 
have  thoughjt  now  and  again  that  he 
did  not  care  so  very  much — not  as 
much  as  I  did,  I  know  !" 

"I  think  he  loved  you  with  all  his 
heart — but  he  loved  honor  more  !" 

"Perhaps,"  said  Valerie  drearily  and 
then  suddenly  she  burst  into  tears, 
"He  is  dead,  dead,"  she  sobbed. 
"Denzil,  I  cannot  bear  it  !  I  cannot 
bear  to  think  that  I  shall  never,  never 
see  him  again  !" 

"It  breaks  my  heart,  too,"  said 
Denzil,  huskily. 


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CANADA  MONTHLY 


359 


They  were  both  silent  after  this  out- 
break and  Valerie  dried  her  tears  and 
put  away  her  handkerchief  in  a  busi- 
ness-like fashion.  "I  had  not  intended 
seeing  him  again."  she  said.  "When 
we  met  in  the  coppice  we  said  good- 
bye to  each  other.  Denzil,  he  never 
wavered  in  his  loyalty  to  you  !  I 
did  !" 

"I  understand  it,"  he  said  briefly. 

"He  kissed  me  twice,"  she  said. 
"Once  at  your  mother's  ball  and 
another  time,  just  lately,  in  the  cop- 
pice. I  provoked  him  to  it  both 
times  !  I  wanted  him  to  kiss  me, 
Denzil — but  he  was  angry  with  him- 
self for  having  given  way.  He  was 
truer  to  you  than  I  was.  But  I  al- 
ways meant  to  tell  you — after  we 
were  married.  I  hated  keeping  any- 
thing from  you  !" 

"Valerie,"  he  said.  "Just  tell  me 
one  thing  straight  out,  dear.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  me,  would  Robert  have 
married  you  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  said.  "I  think  he  had 
never  loved  anyone  but  me.  There 
were  other  things  that  counted  in  his 
life,  though — he  never  loved  me  as  you 
did  !" 

"He  could  not  have  loved  you  more," 
said  Denzil  huskily. 

"I  know  that  and  he  knew  it." 

Then  there  was  silence  in  the  room 
and  the  fire  burnt  noisily  in  the  grate. 
Outside,  a  little  rain  was  falling  and 
the  sound  of  the  traffic  came  up  dully 
to  remind  them  that  life  was  going  on  as 
usual  although  Robert  was  dead  and  > 
gone  and  buried  from  sight. 

"And  now  I  think  I  must  go,"  said 
Denzil  rising. 

"Go,"  she  said.     "Why  go,  Denzil  ?" 

"Why  stay  ?"  he  asked. 

"Then  you  don't  love  me  as  you 
did  ?"  she  said. 

"My  dear."  He  said  no  more,  but 
she  saw  the  look  on  his  face  and 
thought  for  a  moment,  that  plain  as 
it  was,  it  seemed  beautiful. 

"Then,"  she  said,  "if  you  love  me, 
why  must  you  leave  me  ?  Nothing  is 
changed,  except  that  he  is  dead — but 
you  and  I,  Denzil,  will  always  keep  his 
memory  in  our  hearts,  will  we  not, 
dear  ?" 

"Do  you  mean,"  he  cried,  "that  you 
will  marry  me,  Valerie  ?" 

"Did  you  think  that  I  would  not  ?" 
she  answered. 

He  came  and  knelt  down  beside  her. 
"I  did  not  dare  hope,"  he  said.  "I 
thought  I  had  lost  you  both — you  see 
I  never  knew  that  you  loved  him. 
How  can  you  love  mc  enough  to  marry 
me,  Valerie  ?  I  have  nothing  in  the 
world  to  recommend  me — nothing  !" 

"You  are  wrong  in  that  !" 

"No,  no  !  I  am  plain  and  insigni- 
ficant and  you  are  beautiful  and  have 
all  the  charm  of  all  the  women  in  this 
world  in  you  !" 


"nc  Kind 


KtndA 

Divanette 

Design 

Sherc:?n 


INDISDB/<ISA&LB 
COtNVENIENCE 


WITHOUT  a  doubt  a  convertible  Davenport 
or  Divanette  is  a  convenience;  when  needed 
it  is  absolutely  indispensable.  It  permits  of  ac- 
commodations being  made  for  the  guest  who  unex- 
pectedly remains  over  night,  without  inconvenience 
to  the  hostess. 


O-NIGHT  SERVICE 


WHETHER  it  be  a  Daven- 
port or  a  Divanette  (oc- 
cupying but  43^  ft.  of  wall 
space)  is,  of  course,  a  matter 
of  preference  and  space  ac- 
commodations, but  whether 
it  meets  every  requirement 
of  such  an  article  depends 
entirely  upon  the  kind  it  is. 
If  it  is  a  Stadft  it  will. 

P'or  if  it  is  a  Bfaiitt ,  it  will 
never  by  any  detail  of  appear- 
ance in  its  daytime  use  sug- 
gest its  other  purpose,  that 
of  a  bed.  In  service  as  a 
bed  it  will  meet  every  require- 
ment of  comfort  that  could 
be  made  of  it. 


'PHERE  are  three  types 
of  the  TStaM  Kind. 
The  Somcrsaultic,  the 
DeLuxe  and  the  Divan- 
ette. Each  type  accom- 
plishes the  same  purpose; 
perhaps  one  kind  will 
find  greater  favor  i  n  you  r 
consideration  than  an- 
other. If  it  is  a  JBmM. 
it  is  the  final  possiiblity 
of  choice.  The  new  booklet, 
"The  House  That  Grew,"  is 
ready  for  distribution.  Will 
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day, as  the  edition  isjimited? 


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The  HJndrt  Bed  Company,      14  Clifford  Street,      Toronto. 

NEW  YORK  GRAND  RAPIDS 


"But  Robert  knew  something  dif- 
ferent," she  said.  "Denzil,  why  do  you 
think  so  humbly  of  yourself  ?" 

"I'll  not  think  humbly  of  myself,  if 
you  come  to  me.  Valeric  !" 

"Then  of  course,"  she  said  simply, 
"I  must  come." 

Denzil  and  Valerie  were  married  in 
January  with  all  the  pomp  that  Mrs. 
Monro  thought  suitable  to  a  wedding. 
Valerie  made  no  demur  at  all  and  let 
her  mother  heap  cosily  and  beautiful 
garments  upon  her. 


"It  is  different  from  the  one  silk 
dress  period,"  she  said  to  her  father 
once  when  they  were  alone  together. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  and  then  he  looked 
into  her  face.  "Say  you  are  not  un- 
happy, Valerie  I" 

"I  am  quite  happy,  dad,"  she 
answered. 

"You  look  wan." 

"I  think  the  crimsons  and  the  golds 
have  gone  out  of  my  life,  but  Ihc  greys 
are  very  pearly,  dad  !" 

"He  is  a  gof»d  follow,  Val  r 

"He  is  more  than  that"  said  the  girl, 


360 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


lit^n  THt  ITMITf  SLUOWnSl 


IMS 

BAXINOPOWMR   , 

BCOMPOnDOrtHE 

rouowrm  iiwRin' 

nmwwNMifonn,. 

AoiMrcorMMMa/; 

gV  ST/WCH.        ' - 


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MAGIC    BAKING    POWDER 

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ALUM  IS  SOMETIMES  REFERRED  TO  AS  SUL- 
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Remember  how  you've  whispered  that  as  the  bunch  came 
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down  your  spine?  If  you  want  to  get  that  sensation  of tetiest  use 
Mason  Decoys.  We  are  the  largest  manufacturers  in  the  world. 
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flashing.  "He  is  a  very  noble  and 
peerless  knight,  dad — do  you  remem- 
ber of  whom  and  when  I  said  that  to 
you  ?" 

"Of  Robert  Sinclair,  wasn't  it  ?" 
"Yes.  The  first  time  I  had  ever 
seen  or  heard  him— when  we  came 
from  Lohengrin.  Well,  Denzil  is  just 
that.  He  has  not  the  outward  trap- 
pings or  accoutrements  of  knighthood, 
but  he  has  the  chivalrous  heart.  In 
that  last  letter  Robert  wrote  to  him, 
he  told  him  that  he  could  not  under- 
stand the  meaning  of  life,  but  he  was 
sure  that  it  was  quite  all  right.  That 
is  what  our  life  together  is  going  to  be — 
quite  all  right." 

"Bless  you,  Valerie,"  said  her  father, 
and  kissed  her. 

The  End. 


The  Town  That 
Wouldn't  Walt 

Continued  from  page  326. 

climbed  aboard  and  started  on  west 
shortly  after  sunrise. 

For  the  first  fifty  miles,  the  dawn 
departure  seemed  superfluous;  fifteen 
miles  an  hour  not  only  was  easy,  but 
safe.  Then  conditions  favoring  ordin- 
ary operation  swiftly  deteriorated, 
and  we  began  to  get  an  idea  of  what 
"track  under  construction"  might  be. 
The  canvas  covered  log  cabins  beside 
the  track  formed  populous  communi- 
ties; from  the  big  grub  tents,  white 
wood  smoke  blew  up  from  the  fires 
where  the  camp  cooks  were  baking;  the 
train  now  stopped  often  to  give  gangs 
time  to  take  a  track-jack  away  from 
between  the  ties  and  the  guardians  of 
the  grade  stood  attention  behind  their 
shovels  on  both  sides  of  the  rails  as 
the  train  started  on  again.  We  were 
travelling  barely  at  a  walking  pace. 

It  became  plainer  and  plainer  how 
powerfully  "operation,"  or  lack  of 
"operation"  governs  the  destiny  of 
places.  Further  back  at  McBride  and 
at  a  few  other  points  where  operation 
was  no  new  thing  and  past  which  the 
trains  had  been  running  for  months, 
at  least  a  few  buildings  showed  on  the 
sites  of  those  dots  denoting  towns  on 
our  map.  Part  of  the  streets  had 
been  cleared,  and  there  were  visible 
beginnings  of  settlements.  But  here 
where  operation  was  new  and  the 
service  still  slight  and  undependable, 
nothing  but  mere  sidings  marked  the 
position  of  most  of  those  dots  proudly 
proclaimed  on  the  map  as  towns,  but, 
in  fact,  not  even  cleared  or  christened 
by  a  signboard  on  the  site.  Prince 
George,  at  the  end  of  this  division,  is 
an  old  settlement,  long  served  by  the 
river.  As  "Fort"  George  it  was  noted 
in  my  five-year-old  atlas  which  knew 
nothing  of  the  railroad.  The  tempor- 
ary bridge  across   the  spring-swollen 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


361 


Fraser — this,  you  recall,  was  May — 
was  "out";  the  permanent  bridge  was 
going  "in";  we  crossed  the  swift  river 
in  a  launch  and  were  beyond  the  end 
of  any  sort  of  operation  at  all  and  at 
the  beginning  of  our  journey  over 
"track   under  construction." 

That  night,  as  we  spread  out  our 
maps  again,  we  reviewed  the  dots 
denoting  towns  further  on  with  deepen- 
ing doubt.  Between  us  and  that  shift- 
ing, indefinite  point  two  or  three  hundred 
miles  westward  where  we  might  hope 
to  find  operating  conditions  established 
by  the  men  working  east  from  the 
Pacific  Coast  lay — what  ?  We  could 
find  out  only  by  travelling  along  the 
grade. 

Somewhere  in  that  stretch  lay  the 
town  which  I  had  come  so  far  to  see — 
that  town  in  which  I  had  a  senti- 
mental interest.  Some  sixty-eight 
miles  beyond  this  absolute  end  of 
operation  it  lay,  a  dot  among  dots,  a 
plot  of  earth  much  like  other  plots 
of  earth  in  the  great  Nechaco  Valley. 
If  within  the  zone  of  "operation"  we 
had  found  nothing  upon  many  of  those 
spots  which  were  intended  to  be  towns, 
what  could  we  hope  for  so  far  beyond  ? 
Kven  at  Prince  (ieorge,  we  met  no 
one  who  had  been  sixty-eight  miles 
up  the  grade  recently  enough  to  tell 
us  how  the  Nechaco  Valley  looked, 
or  what  might  be  there.  Indeed,  we 
ff)und  that  beyond  Prince  (jcorge  no 
one  as  yet  talked  in  terms  of  towns. 
Instead,  they  spoke  of  localities  in 
terms  of  miles  measured  west  from 
British    Columbia's   eastern    border. 

"Where   are    you    going  .'" 

"To  274." 

"Where  was  that  last  mudslide  ?", 

"Just   beyond   292." 

As  for  the  stage,  or  the  buckboard 
and  bronchos  we  had  spoken  of  so 
confidently  at  home,  they  were  non- 
existent. W'c  spent  a  morning  roam- 
ing through  the  streets  of  Prince 
(ieorge,  trying  to  locate  somebody — 
anybocJy — who  would  take  us  through 
by  team  for  less  than  two  hundred 
Jollars,  and  failed  utterly. 

Finally,  an  accommodating  chief 
'(lesi)atcher  of  the  railroad  ga\e  us 
orders  on  the  section  foremen,  living 
with  their  crews  in  a  box-car  approxi- 
mately every  seven  miles  through  the 
A  iiderncss,  to  take  us  by  handcar  over 
I  heir  sections.  We  started  in  the  full 
sunlight  of  early  e\ening;  and  in  that 
wonderful  northern  country  the  light 
stayed  with  us  four  hours  while  we 
s|)un  over  section  after  section  thrf)iigh 
th<'  wckkIs  and  along  the  river  bank 
with  nothing  but  the  box-cars  of  the 
section  gangs  to  show  us  where  the 
towns  were  meant  to  be.  We  kept 
(f)unt  of  them,  and  by  comparing  our 
reckoning  with  our  map,  we  knew 
where  we  were. 

AlK)Ut  ten  it  began  to  get  too  dark 


robbing  the  scalp  of  the  natural  oi 


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It  cleanses  thoroughly,  without 
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to  i>ee  ahead,  but  down  the  grade  and 
over  the  trees  red  sparks  shot  into  the 
air.  We  drew  nearer  and  saw  the 
white  flare  of  a  calcium  light;  and 
above  the  hum  and  pound  of  the  hand- 
car wheels  o\er  the  rails  and  the  deep 
breathing  of  the  four  men  ever  bend- 
ing again  as  th(\-  urged  the  "pump 
car"  faster,  we  heard  a  sharp,  staccato 
whistle,  then  the  piifT  and  tug  of  a 
steam  shovel  and  we  approached  the 
only  settlement  in  that  region — "Camp 
274"  of  the  contractors  building  these 
miles  of  road.     For  the  first  moments, 


as  we  came  U|),  we  were  blinded  by  the 
glare  of  the  light  in  which  the  steam 
shovel  snapped  at  and  tore  away  great 
bites  of  the  hillside;  then  we  stepped 
from  the  handcar  and  saw  buildings 
below  and  to  the  right  of  the  track; 
windows  were  lighted  and  men  were 
moving  within  them. 

On  the  train,  the  da\-  inlon.  \\i 
had  met  two  of  the  men  who  gov- 
erned this  camj) — one  of  the  firm 
of  the  contractors,  the  other  super- 
intendent of  construction.  In  the 
way  of  the  wilderness,  they  insisted 


362 


Guaranteed  by  the  manu- 
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It  will'cut  the  housework  in 
half.  Dusts,  cleans,  polishes  all 
at  the  same  time.  Does  not 
scatter  the  dust — picks  it  up 
and  holds  it.  Reaches  every- 
where— no  stooping  or  reaching. 
Gives  to  hardwood  floors  a  hard, 
durable  lustre  and  preserves  the 
wood. 

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LIMITED, 
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CANADA  MONTHLY 

that  we  stop  with  them  when  we  came 
by.  They  had  preceded  us  down  the 
rails,  possessing  a  gasoline  "speeder" 
which  had  taken  them  here  and  then 
beyond  to  where  there  was  "trouble"^ — 
a  mere  detail  of  a  construction  train 
off  the  track.  They  had  not  yet 
returned  to  camp,  but  left  a  deputy 
host,  concerned  for  us,  unsurprised 
at  our  presence.  The  two  men  down 
at  the  trouble — they  had  got  the  train 
back  on  the  track — returned  and 
handed  over  to  us  their  quarters,  after 
giving  us  supper. 

We  breakfasted  there  in  the  morning 
and  took  to  our  handcar  to  go  on  with 
no  more  illusions  of  finding  anything 
at  all  where  towns  showed  on^the 
map. 

"But  at  292,"  they  told  us,  "there's 
another  camp." 

They  telephoned  to  that  camp  that 
we  were  coming  and  when  we  reached 
it  at  noon,  there  not  only  was  another 
host  but  also  a  hostess;  the  com- 
mander of  that  camp  had  his  wife  with 
him. 

Thirteen  miles  further  on,  and  I 
should  reach  the  town  which,  although 
it  was  really  only  one  of  many  land- 
marks of  my  trip,  had  come  to  claim 
my  immediate  interest — perhaps  part- 
ly because  I  had  worked  so  hard  to  get 
there.  I  didn't  talk  much  about  it, 
now.  A  hundred  miles  of  map-dot 
towns  where  nothing  but  a  siding  or  a 
few  felled  trees  marked  their  sites  had 
discouraged  me  a  little.  I  returned 
again  to  the  rhythmical  throb  and  jerk 
of  our  hand-car,  plodding  steadily 
onward. 

The  car  put  the  miles  under  its 
wheels.  When  we  were  almost  there, 
we  passed  the  site  of  a  "city"  ex- 
travagantly boasted  and  proclaimed. 
Nothing  marked  it  but  a  few  felled 
and  burnt  trees.  In  fact,  it  boasted 
not  even  a  name  beside  the  track,  not 
even  a  siding;  no  one  camped  there; 
and  yet  in  Winnipeg  before  I  set  out, 
I  was  shown — on  printed  plats — 
broad  "boulevards,"  "avenues,"  and 
"buildings"  all  about.  Now  that  I 
had  actually  reached  the  site  of  this 
"city"  I  could  identify  it  only  by 
reckoning  the  miles  we  had  gone. 
Would  the  town  I  had  seen  be  like  it  ? 


About  two  miles  further  on,  we  see 
an  opening  ahead,  a  man-made  break 
in  the  light  woodlands.  Who  are 
those  ?  Not  track  laborers  or  grad- 
ing gangs.  No;  these  are  settlers, 
far  back  from  the  track,  swinging 
their  own  axes  to  clear  their  own 
ground  for  homes.  More  of  them 
appear.  A  siding  holds  a  score  of 
freight  cars.  There  is  no  station,  for 
the  railway  is  not  wasting  time  now 
in  erecting  stations  when  it  is  straining 
every  effort  to  complete  its  roadbed. 


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WEDDING  RINGS 

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are   made    of    18k    gold    without  joints   and 
hardened  by  a  special  process,  ensuring   the 
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Size  card  sent  to  any  address. 

Correspondenct  solicUed. 

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194  Dundas  S^eet,  London.  Canada. 


MOORE'S  SSS'i 

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leaking.  It  writes  at  the  touch  of 
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to  unscrew  when  filling. 

Moore's  is  always  clean  to  handle 
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CANADA  MONTHLY 


383 


But  here  is  the  start  of  a  town — of  the 
town  I  had  so  long  looked  forward  to 
seeing.  Its  name — the  name  that  the 
map  had  shown  opposite  its  proper 
white  dot — was  blazoned  on  a  great 
sign  beside  the  track;  the  first  name- 
sign  seen  at  the  site  of  any  of  those 
map-dot  towns  this  side  of  Prince 
George.  Here  at  last  is  a  real  settle- 
ment— the  beginnings  of  the  Town 
That  Wouldn't  Wait. 

It  is  said  that  the  work  of  a  genius 
is  one  part  inspiration  and  nine  parts 
perspiration.  The  genius  used  in  town- 
making  must  employ  in  something 
like  the  same  proportion  the  elements 
of  situation  and  perspiration. 

In  the  thirties  of  last  century,  most 
people  seemed  to  think  that  a  certain 
town  at  the  confluence  of  the  Ohio 
and  the  Mississippi  rivers  would  be 
the  great  city  of  the  upper  Mississippi 
Valley,  and  few  saw  in  the  site  of  the 
present  dominating  metropolis  its 
great  future.  The  older  town  had 
its  two  rivers  and  all  the  advantages 
that  a  greater  age  would  give  it.  But 
it  lacked  the  spirit  to  make  it  a  great 
city.  The  people  of  the  younger  town 
got  out  and  hustled;  they  got  a  rail- 
road ;  they  lifted  themselves  out  of 
their  difficulties  by  their  bootstraps; 
they  worked,  played,  dreamed  of  their 
town;  so  to-day  a  thousand  tongues 
speak  the  name  of  it  where  one  pro- 
nounces the  name  of  that  older  town 
which  back  in  1830  just  waited  and 
didn't  think  it  was  necessary  to  get 
out  and  hustle. 

•  So  it  has  been,  and  so  it  will  con- 
tinue to  be  with  western  Canada. 
There  are  a  hundred  or  a  thousand 
sites  where,  men  may  say,  should  be 
cities;  but  real  cities  will  arise  in  but 
few  of  these.  Those  cities  which  shall 
succeed,  as  those  which  have  proven 
iheni.selves,  must  possess  more  than 
site,  surroundings  and  hinterland;  they 
must  own  high  spirit,  honesty,  and 
the  faith  which  will  not  fail. 

Did  I  find  those  in  this  Town  That 
Wouldn't  Wait  ?  At  the  hour  of  our 
arrival,  the  people  were  living  in  Icnis; 
but  they  lost  no  time  in  telling  us 
that,  since  the  railroad  could  not  yet 
serve  them,  they  had  turned  back  to 
the  river  where  rafts  already  were 
floating  down  with  lumber  for  houses 
and  stores.  The  rafts  would  arrive 
that  afternoon. 

Between  the  time  of  clearing  their 
land  and  receiving  their  lumber  at  the 
river  front,  these  |)eople  have  a 
moment  to  explain  the  physical  ad- 
vantages of  their  new  town's  situation. 

"Vou  see,"  they  explained,  "this 
town  is  naturally  the  dominating 
centre  of  the  N'cchaco  Valley — and 
that  means  it's  the  centre  of  the  rich- 
est connected  agricultural  area  in 
British  Columbia.  Notice  how  the 
frails   cross    the   country    hereahouts, 


You'll  Need  One 
On  Your  Vacation 


To  keep  you  comfortable  in  the  cool  morning 
air  or  in  the  chill  of  the  evening — when  at  golf — 
tennis — boating — fishing — in  fact  there  is  hardly 
any  time  when  vou  don't  need  a 

"CEETEE" 

Shaker-Knit 

Sweater  Coat 

Made  of  soft  Australian  Merino  wool  they  combine  a  warmth  and 

dressiness  which  cannot  be  equalled. 

Sleeves  and  pockets  are  knit  to  the  body  of  the  coat  and  will  not  pull 

away  as  in  the  case  with  cheap  sweater  coats.    A  high  collar  is  added 

for  extra  comfort,  which  may  be  worn  either  up  or  down. 

A  "Ceetee"    Sweater   Coat  will  be  your   most  welcome    travelling 

companion. 

Get  one  to-day  from  your  dealer  or  from  us  direct. 


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Also  manu/acturer$  of  "Ceetee*   Underclothing.   TurnbuWs  ribbed  imderwear  for  Ladies   and 
Children,    and  TurnbmT »  " M"   Bands  for  Infcmts. 


I 


THE 

Canadian  Bank   of  Commerce 

HEAD  OFFICE      -      -      -      TORONTO 

CAPITAL  $15,000,000       REST  $13,500,000 

SIR  EDMUND  WALKER.  C.VO..  LL.D.  DCL.,  President 

ALEXANDER  LAIRD  JOHN  AIRD 

General  Manager  Assistant  General  Manager 

V.  C  BROWN.  Superintendent  of  Central  Western  Branches 

BRANCHES  THROUGHOUT  CANADA.  AND  IN  LONDON.  ENGLAND.  ST.  JOHN'S. 
NEWFOUNDLAND.  THE  UNITED  STATES  AND  MEXICO 


SAVINGS  BANK  DEPARTMENT 

Interest  at  the  current  rate  is  allowed  on  all  deposits  of  $1.00  and 
upwards.  Small  accounts  are  welcomed.  Accounts  may  be  opened  in 
the  names  of  two  or  more  persons,  withdrawals  to  be  made  by  any  one  of 
the  number. 

Accounts  can  be  opened  and  operated  by  mail  as  easily  as  by  a 
personal  visit  to  the  bank. 


and  you'll  see  how  trade  centres  here. 
There's  the  Stoney  Creek  road,  run- 
ning in  from  the  west;  here's  the 
government  road  on  the  fifty-fourth 
|)arallel,  just  south  of  us;  there's  the 
road  to  Quesnel;  here's  the  Fort 
Fraser  trail;  there's  the  old  Stuart 
Lake  trail,  just  to  the  north  of  us. 
We're  at  the  focal  point,  because  the 
country  slants  this  w.tv  and  traffic 
has  to  come  here.  " 

"When    we    get    our    ferry    aixi    .m 
eleven-mile  road  straight  north   from 


the  river,"  says  another,  "we'll  have 
the  shortest  route  to  Fort  St.  James 
and  the  Stuart  Lake  country."  This 
man  had  freighted  in  his  goods  three 
hundred  and  sixty  miles  over  the 
Cariboo  trail.  The  railroatl,  which 
now  put  all  that  in  the  past,  stretched 
before  him.  He  had  waited  for  it 
many  years,  but,  now  that  it  is  come, 
other  things  come  quicker.  It  was 
only  May  when  he  spoke  of  the  ferr>'. 
Now,  as  I  write,  the  ferry  is  being 
built;    before  this  is  read,  passengers 


364 


Every  Blemish 
Removed  In 
Ten  Days 

I  WHS  Tell    Every    Reader   of   This 
Paper   How   FREE 


YOUR  COMPLEXION  MAKES  OR  MARS 
YOUR  APPEARANCE 


Pearl  La  Sage,    former  actress  who  offers 
women  her  remarkable  complexion  treatment 

This  great  beauty  marvel  has  instantly  produced  a  sen- 
sation. Stubborn  cases  have  been  cured  that  baffled  physi- 
cians for  years.  You  have  never  in  all  your  life  used  any- 
thing like  it.  Makes  muddy  complexion,  red  spots,  pim- 
ples, blackheads,  eruptions  vanish  almost  like  magic.  No 
cream,  lotion,  enamel,  salve,  plaster,  bandage,  mask,  mas- 
sage, diet  or  apparatus,  nothmg  to  swallow.  It  doesn't 
matter  whether  or  not  your  complexion  is  a  "fri„-ht. " 
whether  your  face  is  full  of  muddy  spots,  peppery  black- 
heacte,  embarrassing  pimples  and  eruptions,  or  whether 
your  skin  is  rough  and  "porey,"  and  you've  tried  almost 
everything  under  the  sun  to  get  rid  of  the  blemishes.  This 
wonderfultreatment  in  just  ten  days,  positively  removes 
every  blemish  and  beautifies  your  skin  in  amarvelous  wa: 
You  look  years  younger.  It  gives  the  skin  the  bloom  and 
tint  of  purity  or  a  freshly-blown  rose.  In  10  days  you  can  be 
the  subject  of  wild  admiration  by  all  your  friends,  no  mat- 
ter what  your  age  or  condition  of  health.  All  mathods 
now  known  ara  cast  aside.  Your  face,  even  arms, 
hands,  shoulders  are  beautified  beyond  your  fondest 
dreams  All  this  I  will  absolutely  prove  to  you  before  your 
own  eyes  in  your  mirror  in  ten  days.  This  treatment  is 
vury  pleasant  to  use.    A  few  minutes  every  day  does  it. 

Letme  tell  you  aliout  this  really  astountling  treatment 
free.  You  take  no  risk— send  no  money— Just  your  namo 
and  address  on  coupon  below  and  1  will  give  you  full  par- 
ticalarg  by  next  mail— Free. 

FREE  COUPON  j 


PEARL  LA  SAGE,  SUITE     les  I 

2120  Michigan  Ave.,  Chicago,  III.  M 

Please  tell  me  how  to  clear  my  complexion  in  ten  '[ 

days;  also  send  me  Pearl  La  Sage  Beauty  Book, all  FREE.  '; 


Street  . 
City.... 


Mark  your  linen  with 


^f 


TfSven 
Tla/med 


TNAOB 

COLLEGES 


REQUIRED  B¥  SCHOOLS  AMD 

Any  name  in  fast  color  thread  can  be  woven 
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$1.25  for  6  doz..  85c.  for  3  doz.,  duty  paid.  These  mark- 
ings more  than  save  their  cost  by  preventing  laundry 
losses.  Orders  filled  in  a  week  through  your  dealer. 
or  write  for  samples,  order  blanks,  and  catalogue  of 
^oven  names,   trimmings,  frillings,  etc..  direct  to 

J.  &.  J.  CASH,  Ltd. 

3  }1D  St.  James  Street.  Montreal,  Can. 

or    304  Chestnut  St..  So.  Norwalk,  Coon..  U.  S.  A. 


FREE  BOOK  ON  MOTORIKO 

ExpUiiii  how  wc  assist  VOU  'r. 
the  Auto  Business  as  Repainran, 
Chauffeur.  Salesman  or  Auto  Nic- 
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IDEA   WORKING  MODELS. 

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imitr.ors.    Let  ustcJI  y::u  the  names  of  some  of  ourstudcQt; 

Stnd  for  ih'i  book  ta-doi}-  ^ 

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CANADA  MONTHLY 

and  freight  bound  for  the  rich  country 
to  the  north  will  be  crossing  the 
Nechaco  river  by  that  ferry. 

They  pointed  out  the  quality  of  the 
land,  and  told  me  of  the  small  but  rich 
agricultural  settlements  scattered  all 
about  the  district,  settlements  that 
for  years  had  needed  a  common  trad- 
ing center,  a  town  with  rail  trans- 
portation to  the  great  markets  of  t  he- 
world. 

The  men  there — and  the  women — 
realized  their  situation;  l)ut  that 
realization,  instead  of  inducing  them 
to  trust  alone  to  their  situation,  inspir- 
ed them  to  make  the  most  of  it.  The 
fact  that  their  town  was  the  natural 
capital  of  the  Nechaco  Valley  and  the 
entrepot  to  the  rich  country  just  to 
the  north  surrounding  Stuart  Lake, 
gave  them  no  pause.  They  were 
keenly  alive  to  the  value  of  it,  but  they 
were  hustling  just  as  if  they  hadn't  a 
natural  advantage  in  the  world  and 
were  building  their  town  on  courage 
alone. 

In  the  midst  of  such  talk, — I  think 
someone  who  was  going  to  start  a 
newspaper  there  was  contriving  how 
he  would  get  back  to  Prince  George 
for  his  presses  and  then  how  he  could 
cozen  a  gravel  train  to  haul  them  back 
for  him — came  the  word  that  the 
lumber  had  arrived.  As  fast  as  teams 
could  haul  it,  the  sawed  timber  rose 
in  piles  on  the  townsite;  and,  standing 
there  rather  in  awe,  I  saw  the  strange 
sight  of  a  town  being  born — a  town 
springing  up  in  the  wilderness.  A 
moment  ago  there  was  nothing  but 
an  encampment  of  tents  in  a  clearing; 
now  there  is  the  sound  of  saw  and 
hammer,  and  walls  arise. 

It  is  a  strange  sense  that  one  has  in 
viewing  such  activity  as  the  start  of 
a  town  that  may  some  day  be  a  city. 
One  feels  the  future  of  such  a  place 
by  instinct,  perhaps,  rather  than  by 
pure  reason;  yet  instinct,  psycholo- 
gists say,  is  nothing  but  the  instant 
summing  up  of  so  many  factors  of 
reason  that  the  process  is  unconscious 
and  the  result  leaves  one  surprised. 
In  Winnipeg,  I  recall,  I  felt  that  in  a 
few  years  the  prairie  metropolis  must 
become  a  city  comparable  to  Chicago; 
at  Edmonton  stirred  the  sense  that 
there  soon  must  be  another  Winnipeg. 
Somewhere  further  west,  between 
Edmonton  and  the  coast,  must  rise  a 
city  to  be  to  Edmonton  in  a  few  years 
what  Edmonton  is  to  Winnipeg. 
One  of  these  dots  on  the  map  will  be 
that  city.  To-day,  no  one  can  say 
with  surety  which  one;  but  if  I  were 
to  choose  I  would  guess  the  dot  where, 
without  waiting  for  the  road  to  give 
service,  settlers  already  were  going 
about  starting  their   community. 

Characteristic  of  the  spirit  of  the 
people  there,  and  a  good  omen  for  the 
future,  are  the  cash  subscriptions  by 


has 
^    v^  Ended 

00,000,000 

Corns 

This  little  Blue=jay  is 
removing  a  million  corns 
a  month. 

It  is  doing  that  for  hundreds 
of  thousands  who  used  to  doctor 
corns  in  old  ways.  And  every 
one  of  those  legions  of  people 
would  gladly  tell  you  this: 

That  Blue-jay  stops  pain  in- 
stantly. That  the  corn  comes  out  in 
48  hours  without  any  pain  or  soreness. 

That  Blue -jay  is  applied  in  a 
jiffy.  And  from  that  instant  one 
forgets  the  corn. 

That  the  corns  never  come  back. 
New  ones  may  come,  but  the  old 
don't  reappear 

Think  of  that,  you  who  pare 
corns,  you  who  use  old-time  method.s. 
A  famous  chemist,  in  the  one  right 
way,  has  solved  the  whole  corn  prob- 
lem. And  that  way — Blue-jay — 
is  at  every  drug  store  waiting  for 
your  use. 

Don't  you  think  it 'time  you  tried 
it — now  that  sixty  million  ended  corns 
owe  their  fate  to  Blue-jay? 

Blue -jay 

For  Corns 

15  and  25  cents — at  Druggists 

Bauer  &  Black,  Chicago  and  New  York 
Makers  of  Phy»iciaii»'  Supplies 


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own  home.  Entertain  your 
family  and  friends.  Send  it 

back  at  our  expense  i  f  you  don  ■  t 

want  to  kt-ep  it.     A  few  doMar? 

a  month  now  pays  for  a  jrenuine 

Kdison  at  the  Kock-Iiottom  Price  a  rd 

witiiuutintereston monthly  payments. 


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BED  BUG  CHASER 

Rid  your  botjse  of  Bedbug,  Fleas,  Cock- 
roaches.  Chicken  IJce  and  all  insects.  Leavea 
no  Btain.  dust  or  diaaKrecable  smell.  Thou- 
sands of  satiafied  customers  everywhere-  One 
Rckacre  enou*-h  to  kill  thousandB  of  bugs, 
reels  Post,  in  plain  wi«p[>er.2&c.or6  for  f  I. 

Domestic  Mfg.  Co.    Desk   Q  Minneapolis.  Minn. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


365 


the  settlers  for  a  handsome  board  of 
trade  building,  the  setting  aside  a 
fixed  and  generous  proportion  of  pro- 
ceeds of  every  real  estate  sale  for 
municipal  improvement,  and  the  filing 
upon  nearby  water-p)ower  to  insure 
its  service  to  that  growing  community. 
It  was  no  wonder  that  a  contractor 
who  walked  into  town  along  the  grade, 
])urchased  his  lots  on  sight  and  instant- 
ly arranged  the  erecting  of  an  office. 

But  now,  we  are  about  to  go  on 
our  way  westward;  and  how  different 
a  place  we  leave  from  that  which  we 
encountered  two  or  three  days  ago  ! 
Half  an  hour  before  we  start,  I  take 
what  I  mean  to  be  my  last  photograph 
of  the  place;  but  at  the  moment  of 
leaving,  so  swiftly  has  the  aspect 
altered,  I  must  take  another  picture. 
It  has  been  a  great  experience  to  see 
these  bold  and  freespirited  people 
establishing  for  them.selves  their  com- 
munity in  what  had  been  but  virgin 
wilderness — some  of  them  men  who 
had  held  on  for  years  in  this  rich  but 
remote  valley,  praying  for  the  railroad 
which  at  last  has  come,  others  who  are 
but  new  arrivals  now,  but  pioneers  of 
the  great  promise.  Prophets,  too  ? 
Or  are  they  all  mistaken,  these  men 
of  clear  eye,  broad  brow,  strong  back, 
asking  no  help  from  others,  more  than 
sufficient  unto  themselves?  Backed 
by  these  thousands  of  acres  of  rich 
farm  land, girdled  by  their  traits,  served 
by  their  river  and  their  new  trans- 
continental railway,  what  may  they 
not  accomplish  ? 

Time  alone  can  tell.  But  I  have 
written  this  because  I  have  seen  what 
I  believe  is  the  birth  of  a  new,  true 
community  in  Western  Canada,  writ- 
ten what  may  be  a  record  for  citizens 
fifty  and  a  hundred  years  from  now, 
to  smile  at,  incredulous  that  their  city 
could  have  been  encompassed  once  in 
uch  space. 


Slush  and 

Parsimony 

Continued  from  page  324. 

laid   out   cold   for    being    so    careless. 

When  he  came  to,  the  officer  detailed 
him  for  special  service,  and  he  was 
ordered  to  slush  the  fore  and  the  main 
from  the  royal  poles  down  to  the  mast 
heads.  As  the  Trade  Wind  was  plung- 
ing and  rolling  in  the  stiff  northeaster 
whi(  h  iHire  her  name,  it  was  a  nice  job, 
and  with  the  lanyard  of  the  full  slush- 
prtt  around  his  neck,  Luggy  ascended 
the  giddy  heights  of  the  fore,  feeling 
«ick  at  heart  and  revengeful. 

The  grease  used  for  slushing  down 
is  not  laid  on  with  a  brush,  and  absorb- 
c-d  as  he  was  in  his  work  u|ion  the 
slender  royal  i»le,  Watson  could  not 


I  Offer  You 
a  Partnership 

in  a  splendid  paying  busi- 
ness that  will  net  you  Sixty 
Dollars  a  Week.  No  ex- 
perience required.     The 

ROBINSON   BATH  TUB 

has  solved  the  bathing  problem.  No  plumbing,  no  waterworks  required.  A  full  length  bath  in 
every  room,  that  folds  in  a  small  roll,  handy  as  an  umbrella.  A  positive  boon  to  city  and 
country  dwellers  alike. 

Now  I  want  you  to  go  in  partnership  with  me,  but  you  don't  invest  any  capital.  I  have 
vacancies  in  many  splendid  counties  for  live,  honest,  energetic  representatives. 

Will  you  handle  your  county  for  me  ? 

I  give  you  credit — back  you  up — help  you  with  live,  ginger-sales-talks. 

BADLY  WANTED— EAGERLY  BOUGHT. 

Quick  sales — large  profits.     Here  are  three  samples  of  what  you  can  easily  earn. 

Douglas,  Manitoba,  got  16  orders  in  2  days. 

Myers,  Wis.,  $350  profit  first  month. 

McCutcheon,  Sask.,  says  can  set   15  in  less  than  3  days. 
You  can  do  as  well.     The  work  is  fascinating  easy,  pleasant  and  permanent. 

C.  A.  RUKAMP,  General  Manager, 

The  Robinson  Cabinet  Mfg.  Co.,  Ltd. 
210  Sandwich  Street,  WalkerviUe,  Ont. 


Send  no  money,  but  write  to-day  for  details. 
Hustle  a  post  card  for  free  tub  offer. 


ti'fff'l-f 


The  Pick  of  the  Bulb  World 

All  our  bulbs  are  pfrown  for  us  especially  and  are  person- 
ally selected  by  the  James  Carter  &  Co.  experts. 
Thorough  tests,  both  before  exportation  and  at  the  Carter 
establishment  at  Kaynes  Park,  London,  assure  sound, 
healthy  bulbs  of  the  very  highest  quality.  Our  Tulips 
and  Narcissus  are  exceptionally  hardy  and  well  suited  to 
the  Canadian  climate. 

are  unequalled  for  bowl  or  bed   culture. 

The  Carter  catalogue  and  handbook — "  Uullis  " — illus- 
trates and  describes  the  choicest  varieties  of  Tulips,  Nar- 
cissus, Daffodils,  Crocus  and  many  others.  It  lists  all 
well-known  favorites  and  many  exclusive  kinds  not  to  be 
had  elsewhere.     Complimentary  copy  on  request. 

Writ*  for  it  to-day. 

Carters  Tested  Seeds,  Inc. 

133  H  King  Street  East  :  Toronto 


help  hut  comment  upon  the  peculiar 
c|uality  of  the  fatty  substance  he  was 
dipping  his  grimy  [laws  into. 

"Blowed  if  I  ever  saw  slush  like 
that  afore,"  he  murmured.  "Why  the 
blee<Jin'  stuff  smells  nice." 

At  the  topmasthead,  he  stuck  a 
finger  into  the  greyish  mess  and  snifTcd 
"Now,  where'n  l)lazes  'ave  I  smelt 
that  afore  ?"  he  ruminated,  but  he 
had  reached  the  fore  top  before  memory 
came  to  his  aid.  "  'Oly  ol'  sailor  !" 
he  ejaculated  in  surjirise.     "I  wonder 


if  it  is?  Itcawn'tbe."  Coming  down 
off  the  fore  rigging,  he  slipped  into  the 
paint  locker  to  replenish  his  pot,  and 
when  he  came  out  again,  there  was  a 
beatific  smile  on  his  battered  counten- 
ance. "Sure  enough  !"  he  muttered. 
"That's  jest  what  it  is.  'Oly  sailor  !" 
In  the  dense  fog,  the  Trade  Wind 
picked  up  the  San  Francisco  pilot,  and 
with  a  fair  wind,  she  worked  inside 
the  bay  and  dropped  her  anchor,  and 
the  crew  were  turned  up  to  furl  sail 
for  a   harbor  stow.     The  deck.s  were 


366 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

The  Secret  of  Beauty 

is  a  clear  velvety  skin  and  a  youtlilul  complexion. 
If  you  value  your  good  looks  and  desire  a 
perfect  complexion,  you  must  use  Beelham's 
La-rola.  It  possesses  unequalled  qualities  for 
imparting  a  youthful  appearance  lo  the  skin 
and  complexion  of  its  users.  La-rola  is  delicate 
and  fragrant,  quite  greaseless,  and  is  very 
'  pleasant  to  use.  Get  a  bottle  to-day,  and  thus 
ensure   a  pleasing   and  attractive  complexion. 

BEETHAM'S 


a-pola 


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Jelly  Powders,  Spices  or  Extracts 

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Cook  Book 


"THE  SOWING" 


NOW  IN  THE 
2nd   edition 


A  "  Yankee's  "  View  of  England's  Duty  to  Herself  and  Canada 

The  most  widely  quoted,  interesting  and  important  bool<  on  Canada 


Handsomely  printed. 


Price  $1.25 

VANDERHOOF-GUNN  CO.,  Limited,  Publishers,  London  and  Toronto 


ever  published.     Absorbing,   vital,   powerful 
profusely  illustrated,  beautifully  bound 


cleared  up,  and  they  wailed  out  in  the 
fog  for  the  tug  to  pull  them  alongside 
the  coal  dock. 

In  a  port  like  Frisco,  a  windjantmer 
inward  bound  does  not  remain  long 
at  anchor  without  visitors,  and  after 
tiie  quarantine  and  customs  had  paid 
their  calls,  the  denizens  of  the  Barbary 
Coast  came  puttering  out  in  motor 
launches,  and  boarding  house  runner 
and  Hebrew  peddler  came  tumbling 
over  the  rail.  Captain  Ezekiel  Smith 
made  no  attempt  to  stop  them,  and 
the  mates  remained  apparently  obliv- 
ious of  the  fact  that  sundry  members  of 
the  crew  were  leaving  the  ship. 

"Let  them  go,"  said  the  skipper. 
"They  forfeit  their  wages."  And  he 
rubbed  his  hands  pleasureably. 

When  the  mate  sung  out  for  "All 
hands  man  the  windlass  !"  some  time 
later,  he  was  disagreeably  surprised 
to  see  Luggy  Watson  answering  the 
hail. 

"Ain't  you  gone  ashore  yet  ?"  growl- 
ed the  officer  indignantly. 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  sailor;  "but 
the  others  have." 

The  mate  felt  that  he  would  like  to 
give  Mr.  Watson  some  inducement  to 
leave  hurriedly,  but  the  tow  boats' 
crew  were  clambering  aboard  to  hoist 
the  anchor,  and  it  would  be  bad  policy 
to  manhandle  a  sailor  with  so  many 
strangers  around. 

"All  right,"  he  growled.     "Turn  to." 

Within  an  hour  they  were  alongside 
the  coal  dock  and  securely  moored. 
The  mates  had  slipped  ashore  for  a 
drink;  the  cook  and  steward  were  aft 
in  the  pantry,  and  in  the  paint  locker, 
Seaman  Watson  was  busy  filling  a 
canvas  clothes  bag  with  greyish  grease. 
He  was  very  thorough  about  it  and 
scraped  the  barrel  clean,  and  so  absorb- 
ed was  he  in  his  slush  gathering  that 
he  did  not  see  the  skipper  stepping  in 
behind  him.  "Oho,  my  man  !"  came 
a  rasping  voice.  "Stealing  the  ship's 
stores,  are  you  ?" 

Luggy  turned  around  in  a  sweat  of 
fright.  "N — no,  sir,"  he  stammered. 
"I — I  was  jest  agoin' t' take  a  little  o' 
this  slush " 

"Aye,"  grated  the  skipper.  "Steal- 
ing it — a  jail  offence.  But  I'll  give 
you  a  chance,  my  beauty  !  You  just 
skin  along  out  of  this  and  take  your 
slush  with  you.  That'll  do  for  your 
wages  due.  Slide  now,  or  I'll  call  a 
policeman." 

And  the  sailor  crawled  humbly  away, 
while  the  stingy  skipper  laughed  to 
himseff.  "Great  work  !"  he  murmur- 
ed. "All  the  crew  gone,  an'  this  fellow 
skinning  off  with  fifty  cents'  worth  of 
slush  and  leaving  ten  dollars  in  my 
pocket.  It  takes  a  man  Hke  me  to  do 
high  financing  in  the  crew  line."  And 
feeling  Very  pleased  with  himself  he 
went  into  the  cabin  chuckling. 

His  beatific  mood  continued  all  next 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


367 


In  Color 

and  Flavor^ 

both — to  please  the  eye 
as  well  as    the   palate — 


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ticularly appropriate 
at  this  season  for  mak- 
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Your  grocer  sells  H. 

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50  CENTS 

Write  Dept.  G 

Send  Zc.  stamp  for  Recipe  Book. 

CRESCENT  MFG.  CO. 

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Without 


Obligation 

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But  the  application  of  such  knowl- 
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extend  to  you  the  services  of  a  very 
complete,  expert  organization.  Tell 
us  about  your  desires  and  we  will 
work  out  a  solution  skilful  in  design 
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"More  Sonnets  of 
an  Office  Boy" 

By  SAMUEL  E.  KISER 

Price     -      -      75  CenU 

VANDERHOOF-GUNN  CO ,  LTD. 

Pnbllahan, 
TOROHTO,  ORTAUO. 


day,  and  the  cannery  sale  was  called 
off.  A  good  paying  lumber  freight  had 
turned  up  for  the  Trade  Wind,  and 
Ezekiel  Smith  had  changed  his  mind. 
He  was  smoking  a  cigar  and  indulging 
in  pleasant  retrospections,  when  the 
Yankee  mate  burst  unceremoniously 
into  the  cabin. 

"Where's  that  slush  we  picked  up  at 
sea  a  while  ago  ?  Thar'  ain't  none 
left  in  th'  bar'l— " 

The  skipper  smiled.  "I  know  it. 
That  man  Watson  took  it  all  with 
him  instead  of  his  wages.  I  caught 
him  stuffing  a  bag  with  it  so  I  bluffed 
him  ashore  by  saying  I  would  have 
him    jailed    for    stealing    the    ship's 

stores " 

"You  did  ?"  almost  screamed  the 
mate.  "Then  look  at  this !"  And 
he  laid  a  copy  of  the  San  Francisco 
Examiner  before  his  astonished  super- 
ior. Pointing  to  a  paragraph,  the 
mate  read  :  "Lucky  find  by  a  sailor. 
Exwhaleman  picks  up  a  small  fortune. 
John  Watson,  an  able  seaman  off  the 
British  bark  Trade  Wind  just  arrived 
from  Newcastle,  N.S.W.,  brought  a  bag- 
ful of  ambergris  to  a  well  known  firm  of 
druggists  here  in  San  Francisco.  The 
stuff,  which  is  a  greasy,  greyish  sub- 
stance said  to  come  from  the  ejections 
of  a  sick  sperm  whale,  was  picked  up  by 
the  man  while  the  ship  was  becalmed  on 
the  equator.  Watson,  who  is  an  old 
whaleman,  identified  the  grease  as 
ambergris  and  as  he  had  some  twenty 
odd  pounds  of  it,  he  received  five  thou- 
sand dollars  for  his  find " 

"What  ?"  shrieked  the  skipper. 
"F'ive  thousand  dollars  !  Is  there  any 
of  it  left  ?" 

"Nary  a  bit,"  replied  the  mate  dole- 
fully. "Slush  pots  an'  bar'l  hev  bin 
scraped  clean—" 

"Can't  we  get  hold  of  this  Watson?" 
"No,"  answered   the  other.     "He's 
gone  east,  so  th'  paper  says." 

Captain  Smith  nodded  sorrowfully. 
"Say,  Mr.  Mate  !  Just  you  pull  on 
your  heaviest  boots  and  kick  me  some 
place  where'll  it'll  hurt  most — " 

The  mate  sighed.  "Aye,  sir,  an' 
I'll  allow  you  t'  do  th'  same  t'  me  !" 


What  the  Little  Grey 
Lady  Saw 

Continued  from  page  316. 

Hindoos  were  allowed  to  step  on  the 
B.  C.  doormat 

In  the  Social  Column,  Mrs.  Richas- 
Croesus  entertained  on  board  her 
yacht  and  Greta  Glovecounter  danced 
her  little  pumps  off  at  the  pier,  learn- 
ing yesterday's  positively-cutest  tango 
step. 

Then  came  the  extras,  forty-four 
years  to  a  day  after  the  Franco- Prussian 
flare-up,  and  the  world  was  changed. 


( 


2 


3 


4 


5 


6 


7 


All  the  seven  days  of  the  week,  all  the 
52  weeks  of  the  year,  Bovril  helps  to 
improve  the  cooking. 

Add  a  spoonful  to  your  soups  and 
stews,  your  gravies  and  "  made  "  dishes. 
One  touch  of  BOVRIL  makes  the  whole 
dish  better;  it  enriches  the  soup,  strength- 
ens the  stew,  and  deepens  the  color  of  the 
gravy.  Many  of  your  own  pet  recipes 
will  be  all  the  better  for  the  addition  of  a 
little  Bovril. 

Many  dishes  that  seem  a  little  weak, 
just  need  a  touch  of  BOVRIL  to  make 
them  perftxt.  Always  keep  a  bottle  on  the 
kitchen  table  when  you're  cooking. 


CT^U^  ^OM^t^>^^Ke^ 


It's  filltd  jWith  a  twist  of  the  wrist.     If 
I  you  want 

lERFECT-PEN  SATISFACTION 
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14k  Gold  Pen'Poitns  to,  fit  every 

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Business  "^  men,'' stenographers, 
students!  and  all  professional 
people  will  find  in  the  "A.A." 
Pens,  the  point  especially  suited 
to  their  purpose. 

A«k  your  stationer,  drusiist  or  jeweler 
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Not  connected  with 

TheX.  £.  Waterman  Company. 

No,  we  weren't  ready.     Kipling  had 
warned  us,  like  another  Noah,  and  we 
had     even     quarrelled.     Sir     Wilfrid 
against  Sir  Robert,  over  the  pattern  i 
of  our- Ark.     But  we  hadn't  believed  " 
we'd  need  it. 

Yet  in  two  weeks,  two  tremendous, 
heart-breaking,  brain-numbing  weeks, 
we  had  25,000  men  on  their  way  to 
Valcartier.  We  had  two  regiments 
cf|uii)ped  by  private  citizens.  The 
federal  government  had  started  a 
million    bags  of  flour  toward  Engli.sh 


368 


CANADA   MONTHLY 


"The  Sowing 


1 1 


Now  in  the 
2nd  Edition 


A  "Yankee's"  View  of  England's  Duty  to  Herself  and  Canada 

The  most  widely  quoted,  interesting  and  important  book  on        Price 
Canada  ever  published.     Absorbing,  vital,  powerful.    Hand-     ^1    OC^ 
somely  printed,  profusely  illustrated,  beautifully  bound.  *  .  ^v-» 

VANDERHOOF-GUNN  CO.,  Limited,  Publishers 

LONDON  AND  TORONTO. 


Samuel  E.KiserS  v  ♦*  r 

"More  ,5®nKiel5  ^  -- 
of  dn  Office  Bqy 


n 


CS         QQr^ 


''jil  The   hearts  of   men   hunger   for 

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not  have  known  it,  but  that  is  what  has  been  hurt- 
ing  you.     Here  is  a  cure: 

**More  Sonnets  of  an  Office  Boy^^ 

It  is  a  book  of  verse  by  Samuel  Ellsworth  Kiser,  who 
writes  from  the  heart — and  he  is  your  kind  of  man.  It  is 
illustrated  by  Florence  Pretz,  who  created  the  immortal  Billiken 
the  good  luck  god. 

It  is  something  every  man  who  had  a  real  childhood  should 
read.     It  will  bring  back  your  boyhood  days  with  a  bump.     The 
world    will    seem    brighter    to    you.     Every   man   will    be   a 
good    fellow.      You    will    be    a    better  [^fellow    yourself. 
You    can    get   it    for  75    cents.     If  your   news   dealer 
is   sold  out,   tear  off  this  coupon  and  mail   to-day 
direct  to 

Vanderhoof^-Gunn  Co.,  Ltd. 

Publishers 

LONDON  and 

TORONTO 


bakeshops.  Alberta  had  pourt-d  half 
a  million  bushels  of  oats  from  her 
huge  elevators.  And,  thanks  to  the 
foresight  of  British  Columbia,  the 
Kmpire  owned  two  Canadian  destroy- 
ers to  go  a-killing  with  the  Niobe 
and  the  Rainbow. 

But,  bigger,  grander,  more  .soul- 
stirring  than  any  contribution  that 
rr)uld  be  seen,  we  had  a  united  Canada, 
a  united  Empire,  clear  through  to 
Ireland,  eyes  raised  to  the  bulletin- 
board,  even  if  those  eyes,  like  the  grey 
lady's  were  filled  with  tears. 

Mothers  had  the  right  to  come 
forward  and  protest  against  their  sons' 
enrolment.  But  from  the  St.  Law- 
rence to  the  Coast,  do  you  know  how 
many  mothers  did  it  ? — just  two  ! 

Rejxirt  has  it  that  there  was  a 
volunteer  refused  for  every  one  accept- 
ed— two  contingents  ready  instead  of 
one.  Our  Minister  of  Militia  officially 
stated  that  any  three  of  the  nine 
military  divisions  could  have  furnished 
the  required  number.  Doctors,  en- 
gineers, clergymen,  members  of  Parlia- 
ment, Russians  from  Winnipeg,  even 
Serbs  from  Detroit — they  all  w^anted 
to  go.  Whole  tow-ns  turned  out  to 
watch  their  corps  parade,  and  though 
offices  were  crippled  and  banks  were 
undermanned,  the  grumbles  of  the 
few  self-centred  number-one-ers  were 
drowned  in  the  roll  of  the  drums. 

The  women  promised  SIOO.OOO  for  a 
Hospital  Ship.  Greta  Glovecounter 
patched  her  pumps  and  bought  extras 
with  the  price  of  a  new  pair..  Sylvia 
RichasCroesus  motored  up  to  the  Red 
Cross  Society  instead  of  to  the  ball 
game.  And  when  Greta's  Jack  and 
Sylvia's  Reginald  went  Warward  side 
by  side,  the  two  girls  sat  together  and 
rolled  bandages. 

But  do  they  realize — these  girls  and 
women,  boys  and  men  ?  Do  the  little 
Jew  newsboys  see  beyond  the  extras 
that  sell  for  five  apiece,  when  they 
parade  Toronto  streets  and  consign 
the  Kaiser  to  eternal  flame  ?  Do 
the  people  know,  down  to  the  cold 
bottom  of  their  souls,  that  the  flag 
that  braved  a  thousand  years  the 
battle  and  the  breeze,  may  trail  home 
caked  with  Berlin  mud  ?  Do  they 
realize  that  even  if  Germany  is  worsted, 
the  Bear  out  of  the  North  may  come 
for  his  prey  ?  Do  they  see  the  vul- 
tures black  against  the  Armageddon 
sky  ? 
Oh,   no. 

The  grey  lady  does,  head  up  under 
the  Hydro  light. 

But  the  little  bugler  boys,  a  knot 
of  silhouettes  against  the  Armouries 
window,  they  weren't  fxjrn  to  pro- 
phesy. All  that  they  know  is  the 
urge  in  the  blood;  all  that  they  feel 
is  the  instrument  they  hold,  all  that 
they're  told  is  how  to  play  it. 
God  save  the  King  ! 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


369 


HUDSON  Six-40 
For  1915 


Now  the  Top  Place  Car 

The  Ideal  Six,  with  31  New  Features  and  a  $2,100  Price 


The  HUDSON  Six-40  for  1915  will  be  accepted,  we  think,  as  the 
representative  car.  It  leads  in  its  class.  And  the  class  which  it  leads  best 
typifies  the  modern  ideals  and  trends. 

All  things  considered — all  the  time's  tendencies  toward  lightness,  economy, 
modest  size  and  cost — this  new  HUDSON  Six-40  will  be  widely  conceded 
first  place  among  coming  cars. 


The  Criterions 

These  are  the  criterions  by  which  the 
majority  now  measure  a  quality  car- 
Note  how  the  HUDSON  meets  them: 

First,  good  engineering.  The  48  Hud- 
son engineers — headed  by  Howard  E. 
Coffm — have  devoted  four  years  to  this 
Hl'DSON  Six-40.  The  car  represents 
the  crowning  effort  of  the  ablest  corps 
in  th's  industry. 

Next,  men  insist  on  Sixes  for  high- 
grade  cars.  This  HUDSON  Six-40  em- 
bodies all  the  refinements  men  have 
worked  out  in  Sixes. 

To-day's  demand  is  for  lightness  with- 
out sacrificing  strength.  That  lightness 
which  comes  through  skilful  designing 
and  proper  materials.  The  HUDSON 
Six-40,  as  built  this  year,  weighs  2,900 
|)()unds.  The  old-time  average,  for  cars 
of  this  capacity,  was  fully  one-third 
more.  We  have  removed,  by  sheer  good 
dosgning,  the  weight  of  a  car-full  of 
[K-ople.  Yet  this  light  HUDSON  has 
(iroved  itself  one  of  the  staunchest  cars. 

Men  also  seek  low  operative  cost. 
Ihis  light  HUDSON  Six-40,  with  its 
new-tvpe  small-bore  motor,  has  reduced 


this  cost  by  at  least  30  per  cent,  for  cars 
of  this  size  and  power. 

The  Price  Question 

Last  year  we  astonished  all  with  a 
S2,300  price  on  the  HUDSON  Six-40. 
It  was  the  lowest  price  ever  quoted  on 
any  comparable  car. 

On  the  model  just  out — for  1915 — 
we  drop  that  price  $200.  That  is  due  to 
trebled  output.  It  is  the  saving  we  make 
by  building  three  times  as  many  cars. 

In  this  ultra-value  the  Hl^DSONSix. 
40  leads  all  the  high-grade  cars.  There 
is  nothing  in  sight  of  it.  In  this  point, 
above  all,  it  accords  with  modern  ideas. 

Look  back  a  little.  Three  years  ago 
not  a  Six  could  be  bought  for  less  than 
$3,000.  High-grade  cars  of  any  type 
cost  around  $2,000.  Now  this  new 
HUDSON  Six-40— the  thoroughbred 
Six— is  offered  for  $2,100. 

The  Popular  Car 

Popularity  is  the  final  test  of  place. 
This  car  came  last  year  to  open  up  an 
entirely  new  field  in  Sixes.  From  the 
start  the  demand  overwhelmed  us.  The 


cars  which  went  out  sold  others,  until 
our  dealers  were  besieged. 

The  end  of  the  season  left  us  3, COO 
unfilled  orders.  Men  were  offering  pre- 
miums— as  high  as  v*s200 — to  get  a 
HUDSON  Six-40.  To  cope  with  this 
demand  we  have  this  year  been  com- 
pelled to  treble  our  capacity. 

Now  31   Refinements 

Our  whole  engineering  corps  devoted 
last  year  to  refinements.  The  car  itself 
developed  no  shortcomings.  But  we 
found  31  ways  to  add  comfort,  con- 
venience and  beauty.  Go  see  these 
new  features.  Some  are  very  import- 
ant. Most  of  them,  as  usual,  will  be 
found  this  year  in  Hl'DSON  cars  alone. 

You  will  find  this  new  model  one  of 
the  handsomest  cars  ever  built.  You 
will  find  a  20-coat  finish — luxurious 
upholstery.  You  will  find  the  latest 
and  best  in  each  form  of  equipment. 
There  are  disappearing  seats  in  the 
tonncau.  Every  detail,  inside  and  out- 
side, shows  the  extreme  of  refinement. 
It  will  set  many  new  standards  for  you. 

Phae<on  aealm^  up  to  7  passengers, 
$2,100,  (.ob    Delroil.     Duty  Paid. 

Standard  Roadster,  same  price. 

Hudson  dealers  everywhere  now  have 
Ihis  new  model  on  show.  New  catalog  on 
request. 

Our  Larger  Six-54 

Wc  build  this  same  iikkIcI  with  a  larger 
engine  and  n  13.5-inch  whcclhasc.  It  is  for 
men  who  want  these  ideal  fcaturo.s  in  a  big, 
impresjiive  car.  The  HUDSON  Six-54— our 
1915  larger  model— sell.s  for  $:),HK» 


HUDSON    MOTOR    CAR    COMPANY,  7924  Jefferson  Ave.,  Detroit,  Mich. 


PI«SM  ■ention  Cahada  MomitLT  whn  jroa  writ*  to  •dvwtlwn. 


370  CANADA  MONTHLY 

No  trouble  with  ashes.  Flanges  at  each  end 
of  firebox  guide  all  ashes  direct  into  ashpan. 

Pandora 

^l^fkwjf{0^'^^  extra   large  ashpan,  hold- 

••  \2^*jr      ing  over  a  day's  accumulation. 
Allow  the  McClary  dealer  to  demonstrate. s? 


TONE 

that's  where  the  Victor-Victrola  is  pre- 
eminent. 

The  proof  is  in  the  hearing.  With  a  Victrola 
you  can  hear  the  World's  best  music  by  the 
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Gentleman  Born 

Continued  from  page  318. 

on  the  middle  one  Iwre  the  name  of 
Hunt.  A  man's  voice  somewhere 
behind  it  talked  in  a  strange,  loud 
sing-s(jng;  he  seemed  to  be  telling  a 
long,  confusing  storj-.  At  the  moment 
of  Caroline's  timid  knock  he  was  saying 
over  and  over  again : 

"Isn't  that  so  ?  Isn't  that  so  ?  "Who 
Avouidn't  have  done  the  same  ?  Put 
your  finger  on  the  place  where  I  made 
the  mistake  !  Will  you  ?  Will  any- 
body ?    I  ask  it  as  a  favor — — ■" 

"Hush,  won't  you  ?"  a  woman's 
voice  interrupted;  "wasn't  that  a 
knock  ?" 

Caroline  knocked  again. 

There  was  a  hasty  shuffling  and  a 
key  turned  in  the  door. 

"Who  is  it  ?"  the  woman's  voice 
asked.  "What  do  you  want  ?  The 
auction's  all  over — there's  nothing  left. 
We're  moving  out  to-morrow." 

Surprise  held  Caroline  dumb.  How 
could  one  have  an  auction  in  such  a 
place  ?  At  auctions  there  were  red 
flags  and  horses  and  carriages  gathered 
around  the  house,  and  people  brought 
luncheon;  they  had  often  driven  to 
auctions  out  in  the  country. 

The  door  opened. 

"Why,  it's  only  a  child  !"  said  the 
woman,  thin  and  fatigued,  with  dark 
rings  under  her  not  ungentle  eyes. 
"What  do  you  want  here  ?" 

"I'm  looking  for  Hur';,"  Caroline 
answered;  "doesn't  he  live  here  ?" 

"Heavens,  no  !"  the  woman  said; 
"that  old  card's  been  there  long  before 
we  moved  in,  I  guess.  They  were  old 
renters,  most  likely.  What's  the  party 
to  you,  anyway  ?     Is  he  your " 

She  paused,  studying  Caroline's 
simple  but  unmistakable  clothes  and 
manner. 

"He  drives  the  automobile,"  Caro- 
line explained;  "I  thought  he  came  this 
way." 

"Come  in,  won't  you  ?"  said  the 
woman;  "there's  no  good  getting  any 
more  lost  than  you  are,  I  guess. 
There's  not  much  to  sit  on,  'specially 
if  you're  used  to  automobiles,  but  we 
can  find  you  something  ,1  hope.  I  try 
to  keep  it  better-looking  than  this 
gen'ally,  but  this  is  mj'  last  day  here. 
I'm  going  out  West  to-morrow." 

An  old  table,  two  worn  chairs,  and 
an  overturned  box  furnished  the  small 
room;  through  an  open  door  Caroline 
spied  a  tumbled  bed.  A  kitchen,  dis- 
mantled and  dreary,  faced  her. 

"The  agent  gave  me  five  dollars  for 
all  I  had  left,"  the  woman  said ;  "I  don't 
know  which  of  us  got  the  best  o'  the 
bargain.  Now,  about  you.  Where  do 
you  live  ?  I  s'pose  they're  looking  for 
you  right  now  while  we're  talking.  Do 
you  know  where  you  left  the  auto- 
mobile ?" 


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"Oh,  yes."  Caroline  stared  frankh- 
about  her.  "Wasn't  there  a  man  in 
here  ?    Where  did  he  go  ?" 

The  woman  grunted  out  a  sort  of 
laugh.  "If  you're  not  the  limit  !"  she 
murmured.  She  stepped  to  the  door 
of  the  kitchen,  looked  in,  and  beckoned 
to  Caroline. 

"I  suppose  you  heard  him  carrying 
on,"  she  said.  "He's  in  there.  Poor 
fellow,  he's  all  worn  out." 

Caroline  peered  into  the  kitchen. 
With  his  rough  unshaven  face  resting 
on  his  arms,  his  hair  all  tossed  about, 
his  face  drawn  in  inisery,  even  in  his 
heavy  sleep,  a  young  man  sat  before  a 
table,  half  lying  on  it,  one  hand  on  a 
soiled  plate  still  grasping  a  piece  of  bread . 

"Is  he  sick  ?"  whispered   Caroline. 

"N-no,  I  wouldn't  say  sick,  exactly, 
but  I  guess  he'd  be  almost  as  well  off 
if  he  was,"  said  the  woman.  "It  would 
take  his  mind  off.  He's  had  a  lot  of 
trouble." 

The  man  scowled  in  his  sleep  and 
clenched  his  hand  so  that  the  bread 
crumbled  in  it. 

"And  so  I  won  the  prize,"  he  mutter- 
ed, "just  as  I  told  her  I  would.  Did  I 
have  any  pull  ?  Was  there  any 
favoritism  ?  No — you  know  it  as  well 
as  I  .do — it  was  good  work  won  that 
prize  !" 

"Was  it  a  bridge  prize  ?"  Caroline 
inquired  maturely.  The  woman 
stared. 

"A  bridge  prize  ?"  she  repeated 
vaguely.  "Why,  no,  I  guess  not.  It 
was  for  writing  a  story.  For  one  of 
those  magazines.  He  won  a  thousand 
dollars." 

The  man  opened  his  eyes  suddenly. 

"And  if  you  don't  believe  it,"  he 
said,  still  in  that  strange  sing-song 
voice,  "just  read  that  letter." 

He  pulled  a  worn,  creased  sheet  from 
an  inner  pocket  and  thrust  it  at 
<  "aroline. 

"It's  typewritten,"  he  added;  "it's 
■asy  enough  to  see  if  I'm  lying.  Just 
read  it  out." 

Caroline   glanced    at    the   engraved 
letter-heading  and  began  to  read  in  her 
careful,  childish  voice: 
"My  dear  Mr,  Williston  — ■ 

"//  is  vnth  ^reat  pleasure  that  I  have 
to  announce  the  fact  that  your  story, 
'The  Renewal,'  has  been  selected  by  the 
ud^es  as  most  worthy  of  the  thousand- 
dollar  pri  e  offered  by  us " 

The  woman  snatched  the  paper  from 
her  hand. 

"The  idea  !"  she  cried;  "let  the  child 
alone,  Mr.  Williston  !  Don't  you  see 
she's  lost  ?" 

The  man  dropped  like  a  stone  on 
the  table. 

"Lost  '"  he  whispered,  "lost  !  Oh, 
that  dreadful  word  !  Yes,  she's  lost. 
I'oor  little  Lou  !    It's  all  over." 

The  woman  drew  Caroline  back  into 
he  sitting  room. 


]S 


Dolly's  Bath 

When   dolly   is   given  her  bath 
the    floor   usually  gets  its  share  of  th 
"  scrubbing." 

But   when    the 

floor  is  varnished  wth 
.Liquid  Granite  mother 
needn't  worry.  There 
will  be  no  white  spots  or 
rings  to  show  where  the 
floor  was  splashed — 
soap  and  hot  water  serve 
merely  to  clean  the  tougl 
elastic  surface.  Floors  finished 
with 

LIQUID  GRANITE 

may  even  be  scrubbed  and  mopped  when  necessary  without 
dimming  their  lustre  or  beauty.  Liquid  Granite  gives  all  interior 
woodwork  a  marvellously  durable,  rich-toned  finish  that  resists  the 
effects  of  water  and  the  hardest  sort  of  wear  and  tear. 

Liquid  Granite  is  but  one  of  many  celebrated  varnishes 
made  by  Berry  Brothers,  the  largest  manufacturers  of  varnishes  in 
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There's  a  Berry  Brothers'  Varnish  for  every  finishing 
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r- 

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"I'm  sorr>'  you  should  see  him,"  she 
said.  "You  must  excuse  him — he  don't 
really  know  what  he's  doing.  He  lost 
his  wife  a  week  ago,  and  he's  hardly 
slept  since.  It's  real  sad.  I  was  as 
sorry  as  I  could  be  for  'cm,  and  I'd 
have  kept  'em  even  longer  if  she'd 
lived,  though  they  couldn't  pay.  I'd 
keep  the  baby,  too,  if  I  could,  it's 
such  a  cute  little  thing;  but  I  can't, 
and  I'm  to  take  it  to  the  Foundling 
to-day.  I'll  go  right  out  with  you,  and 
see  that  the  police " 


"Oh,  is  there  a  baby  ?  Let  me  see 
it  !"  Caroline  pleaded.  "How  old  is 
it?" 

"Just  a  week,"  said  the  woman. 
"Yes,  you  can  see  him.  He's  good  as 
gold,  and  big  !  He  weighr,  nine 
pounds." 

In  the  third  room,  lying  in  ,i  n^ll  of 
blankets  on  a  tumbled  cot,  a  pink,  fat 
baby  slept,  one  fist  in  his  dewy  mouth. 
The  red-gold  down  was  thick  on  his 
round  head ;  he  looked  like  a  wax 
Christ-child  for  a  Christmas  tree. 


IE 


372 


THE  COAST   urNE   TO 


ivia.ck:iisi 


DETROIT, 

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Caroline  sighed  ecstatically. 
"Isn't  he  lovely  !"  she  breathed. 
"He's    a    fine    child,"    the    woman 
agreed.     "And  his  mother  never  saw 
him,  poor  little  thing  !    Nor  his  father 
either,  for  that  matter." 

Caroline  looked  in  amazement 
toward  the  kitchen. 

"Never  laid  his  eyes  on  him,"  the 
woman  went  on  sadly,  "as  if  it  was  any 
good  to  blame  the  poor  baby  !  He's 
taken  a  terrible  grudge  on  the  little 
thing.  He  was  awfully  fond  of  his 
wife,  though.  He  told  me  he  was  going 
to  leave  him  right  here,  and  then,  of 
course,  somebody  in  the  house  would 
notify  the  police,  if  I  didn't  take  him 
to  the  Foundling.  And,  of  course,  he'd 
get  better  care,  for  that  matter — there's 
no  doubt  about  that.  It's  too  bad. 
There's  people  that  would  give  their 
eyes  for  a  fine  baby  like  that,  you 
know." 

"I  know  it,"  said  Caroline,  simply; 
"my  Cousin  Richard  would  be  glad  to 
have  him — he  wants  one  very  much. 
But  he's  very  particular." 

The  woman  looked  at  her  sharply. 
"What  do  you  mean  ?"  she  asked. 
"How  particular  ?" 

Suddenly  she  laughed  nervously. 
"I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself,"  she 
said;  "you  ought  to  be  at  the  police 
station  now.  But  I'm  all  worn  out,  and 
it  does  me  good  to  talk  to  anybody.  I 
don't  Itet  the  neighbors  in  much — it's 
a  cheap  set  of  people  around  here, 
and  Mr.  Williston's  different  from 
them,  and  I  hate  to  hear  him  talking 
to  them  the  way  he  will.  He  don't 
know  what  he's  doing.  He  tells  'em 
all  about  that  prize — and  it's  true,  you 
know,  he  did  get  it;  that's  what  they 
married  on,  and  he  thought  he  could 
get  plenty  more  that  way,  and  then 
he  never  sold  another  story.  It  was 
too  bad.  He's  a  real  gentleman, 
though  you  might  not  think  it  to  look 
at  him  now,  not  shaved,  and  all.  He 
thought  he  could  earn  a  thousand  every 
week,  I  s'pose,  poor  fellow.  He  got 
work  in  a  department  store,  fin'ly,  and 
it  took  all  he  made  to  bury  her.  She 
was  a  sweet  little  thing,  but  soft.  I  was 
real  sorry  for  'em." 

She  wiped  her  eyes  hastily. 
"Do  you  know  whether  he  went  to 
Harvard  ?"      Caroline    inquired    in    a 
business-like  tone. 

The  woman  was  heating  some  milk 
in  a  bottle,  over  a  lamp,  and  did  not 
answer  her,  but  a  voice  from  the  door 
brought  her  sharply  around.  The 
young  man  stood  there.  Though  still 
unshaven,  he  was  otherwise  quite 
changed.  His  hair  was  parted  neatly, 
his  coat  brushed,  his  face  no  longer 
flushed,  but  pale  and  composed. 

"If  your  extraordinary'  question 
refers  to  me,  yes,  I  went  to  Harvard," 
he  said  in  a  grating,  disagreeable  voice. 
"I  have  in  fact  been  called  a  'typical 
Harvard   man.'      But   that  was   some 


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^^'^'M'9iX.'91»:BSji:nv:tAn\\^JKi't*ivniF^ 


374 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


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lime  ago.     May  I  ask  who  you  are  ?" 

The  woman  lifted  the  bottle  from 
the  tin  cup  that  held  it  and  picked  up 
the  baby;  the  young  man  shifted  his 
eyes  from  her  immediately  and  looked 
persistently  over  Caroline's  head. 

"Her  family's  coachman's  name  is 
Hunt,"  said  the  woman,  "and  she 
thought  he  lived  here,  she  says.  He'd 
no  business  to  go  off  and  leave  her 
alone.  Her  family'd  be  worried  to 
death.  When  I  go  out  with  the  baby 
I'll  take  her.  I  suppose  you  haven't 
changed  your  mind  about  the  baby, 
Mr.  Williston  ? — now  you're  feeling 
more  like  yourself,"  she  added. 

"I  cannot  discuss  that  subject,  Mrs. 
Ufford,"  the  young  man  answered,  in 
his  rasping,  unnatural  voice.  "When 
you  have  disposed  of  the  matter  along 
the  lines  you  yourself  suggested,  I  am 
at  your  service  till  you  take  the  train. 
After  that — after  that"— his  lips 
tightened  in  a  disagreeable  smile — "1 
may  be  able  to  get  to  work^ — and  win 
another  prize  !" 

"There,  there  !"  she  cautioned  him, 
"don't  talk  about  that,  Mr.  Williston, 
don't  now  1  Why  don't  you  go  out 
with  the  little  girl  and  see  if  you  can 
find  her  automobile  ?  That'll  be  less 
for  me  to  do.    Why  don't  you  ?" 

He  turned,  muttering  something 
about  his  hat,  but  Caroline  tugged  at 
his  coat. 

"Wait,  wait  1"  she  urged  him,  "I 
want  you  to  tell  her  to  let  me  take  the 
baby  !  If  you  went  to  Harvard,  that's 
all  Cousin  Richard  said,  except  about  a 
gentleman — "  she  paused  and  scruti- 
nized him  a  moment.  "You  are  a 
gentleman,  aren't  you  ?"  she  asked. 

He  looked  at  her.  "My  father  was,'' 
he  answered  briefly.  "In  my  own  case, 
I  have  grave  doubts.  What  do  you 
think  ?"  he  asked  the  woman,  looking 
no  lower  than  her  eyes. 

She  fed  the  baby  deftly.  "Oh,  Mr. 
W'illiston,  don't  talk  so — of  course 
you're  a  gentleman  !"  she  cried;  "you 
couldn't  help  about  the  money.  You 
did  your  best." 

His  mouth  twisted  pitifully. 

"That'll  do,"  he  said;  "what  does 
this  child  mean  ?  Who  is  your  cousin  ? 
Where  does  he  live  ?" 

"He  lives  on  Madison  Avenue," 
Caroline  began,  eagerly,  "but  I  mustn't 
tell  you  his  last  name,  you  know,  be- 
cause he  doesn't  want  you  to  know. 
That's  just  it.  But  he'd  love  the  baby. 
I  could  take  it  right  back  in  the  auto- 
mobile." 

The  man  felt  in  under  his  coat  and 
detached  from  his  vest  a  small  gold 
pin.  He  tore  a  strip  of  wrapping  paper 
from  the  open  box  near  him  and  wrote 
rapidly  on  it. 

"There,"  he  said,  fastening  the  pin 
into  the  folded  paper,  "I'm  glad  I 
never  pawned  it.  If  your  cousin  is  a 
Harvard  man,  the  pin  will  be  enough. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


375 


but  he  can  look  me  up  from  the  paper 
— all  he  wants.  They're  all  dead  but 
me,  though.     Here,  wait  a  moment  !" 

He  went  back  into  the  sitting  room 
and  fumbled  in  a  heap  of  waste  paper 
on  the  floor,  picked  out  of  it  a  stiff 
sheet  torn  once  through,  and  attached 
it  with  the  gold  pin  to  the  bit  of  writing. 

"That's  her  marriage  certificate,"  he 
said  to  the  woman.    She  stared  at  him. 

"Mr.  Williston,  do  you  believe  that 
child  ?"  she  burst  out,  loosening  her 
hold  on  the  bottle  in  her  hand.  "Why, 
she  may  be  making  it  all  up  !  I — I — 
you  must  be  crazy  !  You  don't  even 
know  her  name  !    I  won't  allow  it— — -" 

He  broke  into  her  excited  remon- 
strance gravely. 

"I  don't  believe  a  child  could  make 
up  such  details,  in  the  first  place,  Mrs. 
Ufford,"  he  said;  "she  is  repeating 
something  she's  heard,  I  think.  Did 
your  cousin  mention  anything  else  ?" 
he  said  abruptly  to  Caroline. 

She  smiled  gratefully  at  him.  "  'The 
mother  must  be  a  good  woman,'  "  she 
quoted  placidly. 

Both  of  them  started. 

"Do  you  think  a  child  would  invent 
that  ?"  he  demanded.  "  Now,  see 
here.  You  put  what  I  gave  you  in  your 
pocket,  and  Mrs.  IJfTord  will  take  the — ■ 
will  take  it,  and  go  with  you  till  you 
see  your  automobile.  Then  you  take 
it  and  go  home  to  your  cousin.  If 
you've  made  a  mistake,  and  he  doesn't 
want  to  adopt  a — to  adopt  it,  I  sup- 
pose he  can  send  it  to  an  institution 
as  well  as  Mrs.  Ufford  can.  In  that 
case  tell  him  to  keep  the  pin.  You  can 
tell  him  I'm  going  to  leave  this  country 
as  soon  as  I  can  earn  the  money  to  take 
me  in  the  steerage.  Can  you  remem- 
ber ?" 

Caroline  nodded. 

"I'll  tell  him,  but  I'm  sure  he'll  keep 
it,"  she  said.     "It's  a  lovely  baby." 

The  woman  rose,  her  lips  pressed 
together,  and  rolled  the  blankets 
lightly  about  the  quiet  child.  With  one 
gesture  she  put  on  a  shabby  hat  and 
pinned  it  to  her  hair. 

"I'll  leave  the  bottle  with  you,"  she 
said  to  Caroline;  "it'll  help  keep  him 
fHiiet.    Come  on." 

The  man  turned  away  his  head  as 
ihey  passed  him.  At  the  outer  door 
the  woman  paused  a  moment,  and  her 
face  softened. 

"I  know  how  you  feel,  Mr.  Williston, 
and  I  don't  judge  you,"  she  said 
gently,  "for  the  Lord  knows  you've  had 
more  than  your  share  of  trouble.  Hut 
won't  you  kiss  it  once  before — before 
it's  too  late  ?  It's  your  child,  you 
know.     Don't  you  feel " 

"I  feel  one  thing,"  he  cried  out,  and 
the  bitterness  of  his  voice  frightened 
Caroline,  "I  feel  that  it  murdercjd  her  ! 
Take  it  away  !" 

They  shrank  through  the  door. 

The  woman  sobbed  once  or  twice  on 


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the  stairs,  buc  Caroline  patted  the 
flannel  bundle  excitedly. 

They  had  rounded  the  comer  in  a 
moment  and  the  woman  pointed  ahead 
with  her  free  hand. 

"Is  that  the  automobile  ?"  she  asked. 

Caroline  nodded.  The  brougham 
stood  empty  and  alone  where  she  had 
left  it. 

"They're  not  back  yet  !"  she  cried  in 
disgust.     "The  idea  !" 

"Maybe  they're  looking  for  you," 
Mrs.  Lfford  said,  shortly,  hurrying 
till  she  panted. 

She  motioned  Caroline  into  the 
brougham  and  laid  the  bundle  beside 
her,  throwing  the  plum-colored  robe 
skillfully  over  it. 

"Give  him  the  bottle  as  soon  as  1 
go,  and  don't  let  the  coachman  see 
you,"  she  whispered,  hissingly,  "and 
— tell  me  honestly,  little  girl,  is  your 
cousin  really —  do  they  want  one  ?" 

"Of  course  they  do,"  Caroline  began, 
indignantly.  "What  do  you  think — 
Oh,  run,  Mrs.  Ufford,  run  !  Here's 
Gleggson  !" 

The  woman  put  her  hand  to  her 
throat,  slipped  from  the  foot-rest  and 
scudded  around  the  corner,  as  Glegg- 
son rushed  to  the  door,  red  with  relief. 

"Were  was  you.  Miss,  for  goodness' 
sake  ?"  he  gasped  out.  "H'l've  been 
h'all  over  after  yer  !  Don't,  don't  tell 
Hunt  on  me,  will  you.  Miss  ?  He'd 
fair  kill  the  life  out  o'  me  !  He's 
comin'  now.  'E  'ad  to  go.  Miss,  fer 
his  little  boy  was  took  sick  last  night 
and  callin'  for  'im.  So  'e  made  up  the 
errant.  But  it'll  cost  us  both  our  place, 
y'  know.  Miss  1" 

The  man's  voice  shook.  Hunt  was 
\ery  near  them  now,  walking  rapidly. 

"I'd  no  business  to  leave,  I  know. 
Will  you  h'o\'erlook  it  fer  once.  Miss, 
and  keep  mum  ?"  the  man  pleaded. 

"All  right,  Gleggson,  all  right,"  she 
said,  impatiently.  Suppose  the  baby 
should  cry  1 

She  listened  politely  to  Hunt's  vague 
account  of  a  long  errand  impossible  to 
hasten,  and  sighed  with  relief  when 
only  their  broad  backs  were  in  view. 
Tremblingly  she  tilted  the  bottle 
toward  the  head  of  the  flannel  bundle: 
the  baby  sucked  at  it  with  closed  eyes. 

Back  they  whirled  into  the  shining 
avenue,  back  through  the  long  lane 
of  tall,  brown  houses.  As  Gleggson 
opened  the  door,  Caroline  caught  and 
firmly  held  his  eye. 

"No,  Gleggson,  I'll  take  it  myself," 
she  said,  already  at  the  steps.  "You 
might  drop  it,  it's  a  baby." 

His  reply  was  wholly  unintelligible 
to  her. 

In  the  polished  hall  she  encountered 
Miss  Grundman. 

"I  began  to  think  you  were  never — 
Good  heavens,  child,  what  have  you 
there  ?"  cried  the  nurse. 

"A    baby,"    Caroline    shot    at    her 


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defiantly.  "No,  I  will  not  !  I  can 
carry  it  up  myself !  Please  let  me 
alone,  Miss  Grundman.  If  you  don't 
get  out  of  the  way-,  I  will  drop  him  !" 

She  staggered  into  the  library,  one 
end  of  the  soiled  blanket  dragging 
between  her  feet,  her  hat  falling  over 
one  shoulder,  her  breath  short  and 
choking. 

On  either  side  of  the  great  fireplace, 
each  one  lonely  in  a  griffin  chair,  each 
head  drooped  forward,  sat  Cousin 
Richard  and  the  Duchess. 

"What  have  you  in  your  arms, 
dear  ?"  said  the  Duchess,  hardly 
lifting  her  eyes.    "Not  a  dog,  I  hope  ?" 

In  a  gust  of  triumph  Caroline  laid 
the  bundle  on  the  lady'.s  lap,  and  for  the 
first  time  the  baby  fretted  feebly.  The 
strange,  unmistabable  pipe  cut  the  air 
like  a  knife,  and  the  man  on  the  other 
side  of  the  fireplace  leaped  to  his  feet. 

"You  little  idiot,"  he  cried,  angrily, 
"where  have  you  been  ?  What's  the 
meaning  of  this  ?" 

Caroline  struggled  with  her  pocket. 
"He  did  go  to  Harvard,"  she  said, 
reaching  the  twist  of  paper  out  to  him; 
"and,  you  see,  he  doesn't  know  who 
you  are*  a  bit.  He's  never  seen  the 
baby^  either;  he  doesn't  want  it.  He 
weighs  nine  pounds.  And  Miss  Grund- 
man knows  all  about  the  milk — she 
can  make  him  some  right  away.  He's 
a  lovely  baby." 

Instinctively  the  man  ran  his  eye 
over  the  paper,  then  stared  at  the 
quaint  gold  pin.  He  glanced  at  the 
torn  sheet,  then  turned  to  the  pin  again 
and  studied  the  back  of  it. 

"His  mother  never  saw  him  either," 
Caroline  continued.  "Isn't  that  funny? 
She  couldn't  have  been  there  when  he 
came,  most  prob'ly.  And  then  she 
died.  So  the  Duchess  will  be  his  real 
mother." 

The  Duchess  clasped  the  griffin 
heads  and  stared  into  her  lap.  Miss 
Grundman  knelt  by  her,  unwrapping 
the  baby,  feeling  its  tiny  arms  and 
legs,  murmuring  inarticulate  sylla- 
bles to  it. 

"The — the  child  seems  to  have 
absolutely  no  relatives,  but — but — ^and 
he  renounces  every  claim.  .  .it 
seems  straight  enough .  .  the  poor 

devil's  going  to  South  Africa,  dear," 
Cousin  Richard  said  softly^ 

The  Duchess  trembled  slightly. 

"Of  course  I  shall  make  inquiries," 
said  Cousin  Richard. 

"Would  you — do  you — in  case  it  is 
all  right,  dear,  do  you  think  you  could 
possibly " 

The  baby  wailed  again  and  the  nurse 
began  to  lift  it  from  the  Duchess's  lap. 

"Come  on  little  fellow,  and  we'll 
find  something  for  you,"  she  said, 
eagerly.     "Will  he  come  to  me  ?" 

But  the  Duchess  clasped  him 
tighter  and  rose  to  her  feet. 

"No,  no,"  she  said  in  a  deep,  thick 


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voice;  "no,  Miss  Grundman.  Let  him 
alone,  please.    I'll  keep  him." 

Caroline  unbuttoned  her  coat. 
Cousin  Richard  read  the  piece  of 
wrapping  paper  again. 

"Poor  devil  !"  he  muttered. 

"He  had  a  prize,"  said  Caroline, 
moving  toward  the  baby;  "but  he — 
didn't  keep  it  very  long,  and  then  he 
never  got  another  !" 


379 


The  Love  of  Man 

Continued  from  page  337. 

Oh,  I  wisht  I'd  stayed  till  he  went 
out  !" 

Hot  tears  trickled  from  the  sightless 
eyes  of  the  sick  man.  He  turned  his 
fever-flushed  face  appealingly  upon  the 
other  and  stared  blankly. 

"Does  it  count  if  you're  sorry, 
Father  ?  Tell  me  that  it  counts  some 
if  you're  sorry  !  Seven  years  I've  been 
going  about  with  a  choke  in  my  throat 
that  I  couldn't  swaller.  The  next 
spring  I  went  back  there  where  the  old 
man  was,  'cause  every  night  I  saw  him 
laying  there  unburied  like  a  dead  dog, 
with  the  snow  blowing  over  him  and  the 
coyotes  nipping  at  him.  So  I  went 
back  to  find  his  bones  and  bury  'em. 
There  wasn't  nothing  there — not  a  rag 
nor  a  bone  !" 

He  sobbed  hoarsely  far  down  in  his 
throat,  and  the  stranger  coughed. 

"And  then  I  began  seeing  things  in 
the  dark — things  that  had  legs  that 
wobbled  and  faces  without  a  nose  ! 
Six  years  I  went  on  seeing  'em,  and 
then  one  day  my  gun  busted  and  spit 
powder  in  my  face  and  I  went  blind. 
Seemed  like  I  got  that  for  what  I  done, 
'cause  I  ain't  had  no  good  luck  these 
seven  years.  And  now  I'm  on  my 
back  a-burning  up  with  fever,  and  I 
know  I'm  done  for." 

The  stranger  had  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands,  and  the  sick  man  heard 
deep,  muffled  chest  tones. 

"Yes,  pray  for  me,"  said  the  sick 
man;  "pray  hard,  and  don't  forget  to 
tell  'em  what  I  said — about  'Jamie,' 
you  know." 

Many  minutes  passed,  during  which 
the  muffled  chest  tones  of  the  stranger 
and  the  crackling  of  the  burning  logs 
made  the  only  sounds. 

"Are  you  done,  Father  ?"  said  the 
sick  man  at  length.  "Did  you  tell  'em 
that  ?" 

"Yes,  yes." 

"And  do  you  think  being  sorry 
counts  much  ?" 

"More  than  all  the  prayers  in  the 
world  !" 

"Yes,  hold  my  hand  tight  like  that," 
said  the  sick  man.  "It  makes  me  feel 
safer  and  easy  like.  Do  you  think  a 
man  could  live  through  all  that  ?  Face 
all  stove  in  ?  Why  didn't  I  find  the 
bones  ?  Could  a  man  live  through 
that  ?" 


The  Shoe  you've  been  hear- 
ing about.  It  has  created  a 
new  standard  of  shoe  value. 
Small  wonder  that  women 
who  care  for  foot-appearance 
are  insisting  on  it. 

Ml  SS 

CANADA 

SHOE 

Small  wonder  that  our  expert  shoe  makers 
are  workinf!  overtime   to   nrfxjuce  enouph   of 
them  to  satisfy  fheilemano.    Fur  they  simply 
COMPEL  admiration.    The  various  lasts  of 
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reveal  the  very  latest  style  ten- 
dencies. tJecausewe  keep  in  close 
touch  with  the  master  shoe  de- 
signers  of  the    world's     shoe 
centre*. 

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"I  met  a  man  once,"  said  the 
stranger,  "where  was  it  ?  Up  Calgary 
way,  I  guess.  He  went  through  some- 
thing like  that." 

vVith  a  great  effort  the  sick  man  sat 
up,  supporting  himself  against  the  wall. 

'  Quick  !  Tell  me  !"  he  gasixxl. 
"was  his  face  all  stove  in  horrible — 
features  all  scraped  off  ?" 

"Yes." 

"And  was  it  a  grizzly  that  done  it  ?" 

"It  was  a  grizzly." 

"And  did  his  friend  go  back  on 
him  ?" 


380 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Every  Housewife 


knows  this  familiar  yellow 
package  contains  the  best 
and  purest  form  of  corn 
starch.  Delicious  desserts 
—appetising  sauces — 
dainty  puddings  and  half 
a  hundred  other  uses 
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LONDON 


CANADA 


"That  was  the  part  of  the  story  he 
told  me." 

"It  was  Jules  !"  shrieked  the  sick 
man.  "I'll  go  to  him  !  Don't  hold  me 
that  way  !  I  ain't  sick  no  more,  and 
I  ain't  going  to  die  now.  Can't  you 
see  I  ain't  sick  ?    Let  me  get  up!" 

The  stranger  took  the  man  in  his 
arms  and  gently  laid  him  down  on  the 
furs  again,  where  he  lay  gasping  and 
staring  with  wide,  unseeintr  (■\<-<  inti 
the  dark. 

"There,  there,"  said  th<  >iiai]gi-i 
softly,  stroking  the  hot  forehead  of  the 
other.  "Don't  take  on  so.  If  it  was 
Jules  you've  got  to  get  well  and  start  it 
all  over  again." 

"I  guess  I  am  sore  of  sick;  but  I 
ain't  going  to  die  this  trip.  I  got  to  get 
well.  I  feel  eay  like.  Believe  I  can  get 
up  in  the  morning."  The  man's  voice 
was  feeble  and  jerky.  For  some  time 
there  was  silence  in  the  room.  "Won't 
you  tell  me  the  rest,  Fatjier  ?  Keep 
holding  my  hand  tight  like  that  and 
tell  me  what  he  said  and  how  he  come 
out  of  it,  and  I  won't  stir." 

"He  didn't  say  what  his  name  was, 
and  I  didn't  ask,"  began  the  stranger 
in  a  low,  husky  voice.  "And  maybe  it 
wasn't  your  Jules.  Many  a  man  has 
got  himself  done  up  that  way. 

"He  told  me  how  he  ran  on  the  bear 
before  he  had  time  to  set  his  triggers; 
and  he  told  me  how  he  pulled  his  knife 
and  thrust  hard  at  the  heart  of  the 
beast.  And  then  everything  swam 
'round  and  he  was  in  a  nightmare  with 
a  million  needles  of  fire  shooting  in  and 
out  of  him.  And  he  tried  to  get  up  and 
tried  to  cry  out;  but  something  big 
and  black  and  strong  held  him  down 
so  he  couldn't  budge  and  couldn't 
make  a  sound. 

"And  by  and  by  the  nightmare 
changed,  and  he  heard  people  talking 
above  him — miles  and  miles  abo^■e  him, 
it  seemed.  Heard  'em  saying  they 
were  going  to  go  away  and  lea-\-e  him. 
And  then  he  tried  to  tell  'em  he  wasn't 
dead.  And  he  yelled  and  yelled,  till 
all  the  big  hollow  burning  place  he  was 
in  roared  with  his  voice.  And  still  he 
couldn't  make  'em  hear. 

"And  then  by  and  by  he  'woke  with 
the  sun  on  his  face  and  the  flies  buzzing 
around  him.  And  he  called  for  his 
friend,  but  nobody  answered." 

The  sick  man  groaned  and  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands. 

"And  then,"  the  stranger  continued, 
"he  lay  there  sort  of  stunned  and 
numb,  thinking  about  old  times,  and 
about  the  days  and  nights  with  his 
friends,  and  the  long  hard  trails  they'd 
followed  together,  and  the  grub  they'd 
shared.  And  then  something  seemed 
to  break  in  him,  he  said,  and  he  didn't 
care  axiy  more  about  li\-ing. 

"But  all  of  a  sudden,  as  he  lay  there 
trying  to  die,  he  went  fighting  mad, 
and   all   the  love  he  had   felt   for  his 


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CANADA  MONTHLY 

more  than  right,"  sobbed  the  sick  man. 
"Why  didn't  he  find  me  and  do  it 
years  ago  ?    Oh,  why  didn't  he  do  it  ?" 

"And  then,"  went  on  the  stranger, 
speaking  in  a  low  monotonous  tone, 
"he  got  one  eye  open,  and  saw  a  spring 
near  by  with  a  bush  full  of  ripe  berries 
hanging  over  it.  So  he  dragged  him- 
self over  there  to  the  spring  and  ate 
berries  and  drank  water.  And  then 
he  went  on  thinking,  thinking  how  to 
plan  it  so's  he  could  live  and  get  his 
man. 

"Went  on  five  days  that  wap,  eating 
berries  and  roots  and  drinking  water; 
and  little  by  little  his  strength  began 
to  come  back,  though  his  face  felt  like 
a  burning  coal  and  his  legs  wouldn't 
work. 

"And  on  the  sixth  day  he  woke  up 
with  his  hate  so  big  that  it  filled  him  up 
and  made  him  feel  stouter  than  ever 
he  felt  before  in  his  life.  And  he  said 
to  himself:  'It's  nigh  on  to  a  hundred 
miles  to  the  nearest  post.  I'll  crawl 
there  !  And  he  started.  He  had  no 
gun — nothing  but  his  knife.  But  he 
knew  what  roots  make  good  food,  so 
he  wasn't  afraid  of  starving;  and  it  was 
a  country  of  many  little  streams. 

"And  he  crawled  all  that  day,  drag- 
ging his  legs  like  a  bear  with  his  back 
broke.  And  when  the  sun  set,  he  was 
on  a  hill,  and  he  could  still  see  the 
place  he  started  from.  But  he  didn't 
give  up.  Just  ate  roots  and  rolled  up 
in  the  one  blanket  they'd  left  him. 
Went  to  sleep  and  dreamed  he  killed 
his  man.  And  all  next  day  the  dream 
stayed  by  him  and  made  his  arms  stout 
so  he  could  crawl  better." 

Tear  swere  trickling  down  the  cheeks 
of  the  sick  man. 

"But  the  going  was  mighty  hard ;  and 
he  began  wanting  meat — raw  meat. 
Jack  rabbits  hopped  close  to  him  and 
stopped  to  examine  the  big,  wounded 
animal  that  walked  with  its  front  legs. 
And  the  more  he  wished  for  his  gun, 
the  bigger  his  hate  grew — until  it  sort 
of  look  the  place  of  raw  meat  and  kept 
him  up. 

"And  every  day  he  got  a  little 
stronger,  and  crawled  a  little  further. 
And  then  one  day  he  came  to  a  derseted 
Indian  village.  Skulking  wolf  dogs 
howled  about  the  eminy  lodges,  and 
he  coaxed  them  with  Indian  talk  until 
they  came  up  and  smelled  his  hand, 
showing  iheir  teeth  suspiciously  and 
whining. 

"He  stabbed  one  of  them  in  the 
neck.  Then  he  built  a  fire,  having  a 
flint  and  steel  with  him,  and  had  a  big 
feast  of  dog  meat.  Stayed  in  one  of 
the  lodges  three  days  and  gained 
strength  every  day.  And  during  that 
time  he  whittled  a  crutch  out  of  a 
tepee  pole.  Then  on  the  fourth  day 
he  went  hobbling  toward  die  nearesr 
post,  for  one  of  his  legs  had  got  so  it 
woiilrl  work  ri  bit." 


381 


KeepYourSto 

Soft  and  Clear 


CuticuraSoap 

and  Ointment 

Pimples,  blackheads,  red, 
rough,  irritated  skins,  rashes, 
eczemas  and  other  disfigure- 
ments are  reUeved  by  these 
pure,  sweet  and  gentle  emol- 
lients when  all  else  fails. 


Cutlcurft  Soap  and  OlDtment  sold  throiieliouL  the 
world.  Liberal  sample  of  each  mailed  free,  with  32-p. 
book     Address  "Cutlcura."  Dept.  133,  lioston 

■■9~Men  who  shave  and  shampoo  wUh  CuUcura 
Soap  will  DDd  It  best  for  skin  and  scalp. 


John  Labatt  "^^5^    London 

LIMITED  •KT. 


382 


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CANADA  MONTHLY 

The  stranger  stopped. 

"Oh,  what  a  man  he  was  !"  sobbed 
the  sick  man.  "Do  you  think  he'd 
forget  if  he  knowed  I  was  sorry — 
knowed  I  been  ha'nted  with  his  face 
all  these  years — knowed  I  been  wishing 
he  could  only  call  me  'Jamie,  my  boy,' 
again  like  he  used  to  ?" 

"But  he  did  find  his  friend,"  said  the 
stranger. 

The  sick  man  groaned. 

"Then  it  wasn't  Jules,"  he  said  in  a 
thin,  weak  voice  "  Tain'r  no  use  get- 
ting well.  Did  he  tell  you  that  ?  And 
did  he  kill  his  man  ?" 
'*^,"No,  he  didn't  kill  his  man  after  all. 
Found  him  sick  and  all  tore  up  and 
blind  and—" 

A  strange  light  flashed  across  the 
face  of  the  sick  man.  With  the 
strength  of  a  great  joy  he  lifted  himself 
with  his  arms  and  sat  up  gasping. 

"Let  me  feel  your  face  !"  he  cried 
hoarsely. 

The  woman  by  the  fire  turned  about 
at  the  cry,  and  saw  the  blind  man  lay 
his  trembling,  bony  hands  upon  the 
face  of  the  stranger.  She  saw  the  face 
now  for  the  first  time,  for  the  firelight 
smote  full  upon  it- — ghastly,  noseless, 
horrible,  disfigured  with  old,' scars. 

"Jules  !  Jules  !"  shrieked  the  sick 
man,  falling  back  limply  upon  the  furs. 

The  man  with  the  scarred  face  threw 
his  arms  about  the  other. 

"And  forgot  it  all — found  him  sick 
and  blind  and  sorry  and  forgot  it  all- — 
don't  you  hear  me,  Jamie,  my  boy  ?" 


Deils  to  Fecht 

Continued  from  page  338. 

his  men,  mostly  Munroes  too,  on  their 
unwelcome  errand,  they  were  met  by 
the  crofter  women,  Peggy  once  more 
among  them,  and  reinforced  by  a  crowd 
of  boys,  thinly  disguised  with  skirts. 
Among  these  were  two  of  Captain 
Munro's  own  sons. 

The  volley  of  stones  which  greeted 
the  militia  was  exasperating,  especially 
as  it  was  not  apparent  how  they  could 
defend  themselves  against  such  an 
attack.  However,  two  of  their  number 
got  excited  and  fired,  killing  two 
women.  That  ended  the  skirmish,  fc 
the  soldiers,  conscience-striken,  flee 
and  were  chased  across  the  river 
Connan  by,  the  furious  women. 

The  crofters  then  realized  that  it  was 
useless  to  fight,  and  moved  out.  As 
many  as  could  be  housed  were  given 
quarters  and  fed  in  Captain  Munro's 
barn;  others  camped  in  the  kirk-yard, 
while  some  found  shelter  with  friends 
on  a  neighbouring  estate. 

Peggy's  parents  had  returned  to  the 
south  when  the  estate  passed  from  the 
hands  of  their  patron,  and  she,  with 
her  husband  and  children  were  among 
the  kirk-yard  campers. 


The  Gertorai 
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A  message  to  every 
Skin  Sufferer 

All  skin  troubles, 
from  slight  ones 
like  chilblains  and 
face  spots, to  severe 
cases  of  eczema, 
rashes,  bad  legs  and 
hands,  are  cured  by 
Antexema.  It  stops  ir- 
ritation instantly.and  a 
permanent  cure  quick- 
ly fol  lows.  AhfTE.XEMA  is 
a  cooling,  non-poison- 
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cleanly  to  use  and 
scarcely  visible  on  the 
skin.  Give  up  useless, 
messy  ointments.  No 
bandages  required  with 
Antexema,  which  has 
30  years'  reputation  in 
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f 


C.l/ffES'    EVEIt-y    SKMJV    Il^LIKIZSS 


The  only  thing  to  do  was  to  turn 
their  backs  on  the  past,  and  practical 
Peggy  was  the  first  one  of  them  all  to 
face  the  tact.  She  called  the  campers 
together,  and,  on  counting  their 
slender  hoards  on  a  fallen  gravestone,^ 
it  was  found  that  there  was  enough, 
one  helping  another,  to  pay  the  price 
of  passage  to  America.  The  others 
who  were  not  among  the  campers  were 
given  an  equal  opportunity,  and  all 
set  mournfully  off. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


383 


They  reached  Quebec,  by  sailing 
vessel  of  course.  Duncan  got  work 
loading  lumber.  They  had  brought  a 
few  effects  with  them  from  the  Old 
Country,  notably  Peggy's  spinning 
wheel  and  the  wheels  and  axle  of 
Duncan's  cart.  During  the  winter, 
Duncan,  inspired  by  Peggy's  courage, 
gathered  loose  boards,  straw  and 
leather  and  made  a  cart  and  harness. 
With  money  saved  from  his  wages, 
he  purchased  an  ox,  and  in  the  spring 
they  rigged  up  tlie  cart,  in  which  they 
placed  the  household  goods  and  chil- 
dren, and  started  for  the  land  of 
promise— Zorra  in  the  county  of  Ox- 
ford, a  place  where  many  Highland 
folk  were  already  settled,  and  toward 
which  many  of  their  evicted  friends 
were  struggling. 

They  travelled  more  thasn  six  hun- 
dred miles — a  journey  the  hardship  of 
which  is  a  story  of  itself^ — and  finally 
reached  the  goal.  No  trouble  for  an 
able-bodied  man  to  get  work  there, 
but  level-headed  Peggy  chose  to  wait 
until  they  found  an  English  farmer  so 
that  they  might  get  in  touch  with  the 
very  best  methods  against  the  time 
when  they  could  strike  out  for  them- 
selves. The  right  man  was  found,  and 
Duncan  and  Peggy  went  to  work  on 
his  farm  while  their  two  eldest  boys 
were  put  to  work  with  other  farmers; 
for  few  were  too  small  U)  help  in  the 
new  country. 

It  took  years  to  get  enough  saved 
to  buy  the  equipment  necessary  to 
work  one  of  the  farms  of  the  country, 
which  seemed  great  estates  to  them. 
But  in  good  time  it  came  and  they 
prosjjered. 

Captain  Munro's  sons  came  to  Can- 
ada at  his  death,  and  one  of  them  went 
into  general  merchandising  at  Inger- 
soll,  near  Zorra. 

Of  course  the  Rossshire  folk  all 
dealt  with  the  Mac  an  Oife^each,  and  he 
prospered  with  them.  He  repaid  their 
favour  with  good  advice,  for  he  had  an 
analytical  mind.  Buying  the  produce 
of  the  farmers,  he  had  observed  that 
the  cheese  brought  in  for  sale  was 
crumbly,  and,  when  sold,  did  not 
bring  so  gtxxl  a  price  as  it  would  if  of 
more  s<ilid  consistency,  even  though 
less  rich.  So,  by  dint  of  talking  much 
in  Gaelic,  he  managed  to  convince  the 
farmers'  wives  that  the  English  work- 
ingman,  to  whom  their  cheese  finally 
found  its  way,  wanted  something  which 
could  l)c  cut  in  slabs  and  carried  in  his 
lunch  box. 

It  was  not  long  before  what  was 
known  as  Ingersoll  cheese  began  to 
take  all  the  prizes  and  thus  was  the 
foundation  of  a  great  industry  laid. 

One  day  Munro  was  talking  with 
Mrs.  Donald  Mackay,  Duncan  Ross' 
sister,  and  the  okl  days  in  Scotland 
were  recalled.  ,  Mrs.  Mackay  spoke 
most    bitterly    of    the    eviction    (her 


Your  skin  is  continually 
being  rebuilt 


Your  skin,  like  the  rest  of 
your  body,  is  continually 
being  rebuilt.  Every  day,  in 
washing,  you  rub  off  dead 
skin. 

As  this  old  skin  dies,  new 
forms.  This  is  your  oppor- 
tunity— make  this  new  skin 
just  what  you  would  love  to 
have  it  by  using  the  following 
treatment  regularly. 

How  to  keep 

Wash  your  face  with  care  and  take 
plenty  of  time  to  do  it.  Lather  freely 
with  Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  and  rub 
in  gently  until  the  skin  is  softened  and 
the  pores  open.  After  this,  rinse  in 
warm,  then  in  very  cold  water.  When- 
ever possible,  rub  your  skin  for  a  few 
minutes  with  a  lump  of  ice. 

Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  is  the 
work  of  an  authority  on  the  skin  and 
its  needs.  This  treatment  with  Wood- 
bury's cleanses  the  pores,  then  closes 


your  skin  active 

them  and  brings  the  blood  to  the  sur- 
ace.  You  feel  the  difference  the  first 
time  you  use  it — a  promise  of  that 
lovelier  complexion  which  the  steady 
use  of  Woodbury's  always  brings. 

Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  costs  25c 
a  cake.  No  one  hesitates  at  the  price 
after  their  first  cake.  Tear  out  the 
illustration  of  the  cake  below  and  put 
it  in  your  purse  as  a  reminder  to  get 
Woodbury's  and  start  this  treatment 
tonight. 


Woodbury's  Facial  Soap 


For  saU  by  Canadian  druggists  from  coast  to  coast, 
including  Newfoundland. 

Write    today    to    the    Canadian 
Woodbury  Factory  for  sample* 

For  4c  ive  ivill  send  a  sample  cake.  For  10c, 
samples  of  Ifoodbury's  Facial  Soap,  Facial 
Cream    and  Poivder. 

For  50c  a  copy  of  the  Woodbury  'Book  and 
samples  of  the  Woodbury  preparations. 

Address  The  Andrew  Jargens  Co.,  Ltd., 
Dept,  HI/"  Perth,  Ontario. 


JOHNH/.^^^^^-^ 


cousin  was  one  of  the  women  shot)  and 
Munro  said:  "But  how  much  better 
off  you  are  now,  Mrs.  Mackay.  You 
drive  in  a  covered  carriage  to  the  kirk 
at  Embro,  in  which  your  husband  is  a 
much  respected  elder;  your  sons  and 
daughters  all  have  lands  and  houses; 
you  are  just  as  independent  as  the 
Duchess  of  Sutherland." 

Her  reply  was  significant  and  thor- 
oughly Kehic.  "I  would  rather  die 
and  be  buried  on  the  hillside  in  Strath- 
connan  than  have  a  marble  monument 


in  Embro  kirk  yard."  However,  the 
good  lady  had  to  ccmtent  herself  with 
the  marble  monument. 

Her  husband,  the  elder,  was  noted 
for  his  piety  in  always  removing  his 
Ijonnet  and  giving  thanks  when  offered 
a  glass  of  whisky. 


Peggy  Ross  had  grown  old.  Her 
good  man  whom  she  had  taught,  after 
many  years,  to  farm  like  a  Saxon,  went 


384 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


The  Autographic  Kodaks 

You  can  now  date  and  title  your  negatives  permanently, 
and  almost  instantly  at  the  time  you  make  them. 

TOUCH  a  spring  and  a  little  door  opens  in  the  back  of  the  Kodak; 
write  with  pencil  or  stylus  on  the  red  paper  of  the  Autographic 
Film  Cartridge;  expose  from  2  to  5  seconds;  close  door.  When  your 
negatives  are  developed  a  permanent  photographic  reproduction  of  the 
writing  will  appear  on  the  intersections  between  the  negatives.  When 
the  prints  are  made  you  can  have  this  writing  appear  upon  them  or  not, 
just  as  you  choose.  By  turning  the  winding  key  slightly  and  advancing 
the  paper  the  width  of  the  slot  you  can  have  the  writing  appear  on  the 
picture  itself  if  you  wish. 

Any  picture  that  is  worth  taking  is  worth  a  title  and  date.  The  places  of  interest 
you  visit,  the  autographs  of  friends  you  photograph,  interesting  facts  about  the 
children,  their  age  at  the  time  the  picture  was  made — all  these  things  add  to  the  value 
of  a  picture.  Architects,  Engineers  and  Contractors  who  make  photographic  records 
pf  their  work  can  add  greatly  to  the  value  of  such  records  by  adding  notes  and  dates 
permanently  on  the  negative.  The  careful  amateur  photographer  can  improve  the 
quality  of  his  work  by  noting,  by  means  of  the  Autographic  Kodak,  the  light  con- 
ditions, stop  and  exposure  for  every  negative. 

The  greatest  Photographic  advance  in  tniventy  years. 

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CANADIAN  KODAK  CO.,  LIMITED, 

At  all  Kodak  Dealers.  TORONTO. 


The  Best  of  all  Remedies  for  Children. 

From  Mr.  H.  Evered,  Norway  House,  Piclon,  Nova  Scotia  :— 

■■  I  am  writini;  to  jou  in  praise  of  your  Griife  Water  as  a    tonic.      My  little 

"girl  who  is  now  1-2  months  old  has  thrived  on  it  wondertullj^    Ue  have  given  it  to  her 

"almost  sinoe  she  was  born.      WOODWARD'S    liRIPE    WATER   has  proved  the  best 

"  of  all  remedies  we  have  tried.    We  would  not  he  without  it.    Trustmc  ;h."«  ""f  eipenenoe 

'will  decide  others  to  test  this  most  valuable  medicine,  I  am.   yours  fa-thfully; 

"  H  EvEKED,  Gardener  to  Lord  Strathcona,  High  Commissioner  of  Canada. 

WOODWARD'S  GRIPE  WATER 

Quickly  relieves  the  pain  and  distress  caused  by  the  numerous  familiar 
ailments  of  childhood. 
INVALUABLE     DURING    TEETHING.  . 

For  three  generations  it  has  nourished  and  streusthened  infant  vitality. 
It  contains  no  preparation  of  Morphia,  Opium,  or  other  harmful  drug^  and  has  behind  it  a 
long  record  of  Medical  Approval. 
Of  any  Druggists.         Be  sure  it's  WOODWARD'S 


lo  his  reward  before  her.  Her  sons, 
however,  were  all  comforts  to  her  and 
they  inherited  her  practical  nature  and 
became  wealthy.  Therefore,  with  all 
her  love  for  her  husband  and  her  faith 
in  the  promises  of  future  happiness, 
she  had  a  strong  hold  and  a  keen  inter- 
est in  the  things  of  this  world.  So, 
when  the  excitement  of  the  Fenian 
raid  of  1866  was  at  its  height,  when 
many  earnest  Irishmen,  after  the  close 
of  the  American  war,  couldn't  stop 
fighting  and  invaded  Canada,  Peggy 
induced  one  of  her  sons  to  drive  her  to 
the  county  seat,  Woodstock,  to  see  the 
Oxford  rifle  regiment  mustered.  She 
stood  in  front  of  the  Zorra  company, 
which  was  almost  solidly  composed  of 
descendants  of  her  old  fellow  immi- 
grants, and  Highland  faces  could  be 
seen  scattered  all  through  the  regiment, 
for  the  Kelts  are  strong  in  Oxford 
county. 

Two  British  officers  halted  beside 
her  and  one  said  to  the  other,  "How  do 
those  fellows  compare  with  the  Indians 
you  saw  yesterday  ?"  for  he  had  been  in 
the  next  county.  Brant,  named  in 
honour  of  Thayendinega  the  great 
Iroquois  warrior,  and  had  seen  two 
companies  of  his  tribesmen  in  the 
regiment  which  he  had  inspected 
there. 

"Warriors  all,"  said  the  other.  "This 
company  they  tell  me  is  Highland  to  a 
man.  I  am  inclined  to  believe  the 
theory  advanced  by  some  ethnologists 
that  the  Kelts  come  from  the  same 
stock  as  the  warrior  caste  of  India.  I 
saw  a  solid  regiment  of  them  down  in 
Glengarry  county  last  week, — descend- 
ed from  clansmen  who  were  transported 
•  for  being  out  in  the  forty-five  they  all 
were." 

"Talk  of  abolishing  war,"  said  the 
first  speaker.  "What  other  motive 
would  make  a  whole  countryside 
spring  to  the  aid  of  their  fellows  as 
does  war  ?  I  have  no  fear  for  Canada 
after  what  I  have  seen." 

It  was  then  that  Peggy  Ross,  with  a 
humourous  gleam  in  her  eye,  delivered 
her  historic  saying,  doubtless  sug- 
gested by  returning  memories  cf  the 
cockfight  in  Strathconnan  school- 
house  and  what  she  said  there  about 
Boney  and  the  Munroes;  and  of  the 
two  occasions  on  which  she  had  met 
that  clan  in  fair  fight. 

"The  Fenians  micht  tak'  Hamilton 
— ay,  or  e'en  Toronto;  but  they'll  ne'er 
tak'  Zorra,  for  thej'  Munroes  are  de'ils 
to  fecht." 


A  sailor  had  just  shown  a  lady  over 
the  ship.  In  thanking  him  she  said: 
"I  am  sorry  to  see  by  the  rules  that 
tips  are  forbidden  on  your  ship." 

"Lor'  bless  you,  ma'am,"  replied  the 
sailor,  "so  were  apples  in  the  Garden 
of   Eden." 


VOL.  XVI 

NO.  6 

a 


■QCBDa 


CANADA 
MONTH  LY 


LONDON 
OCT. 
s 


6y 

B  etty  D.  T^ornley 


nPHERE'S  many  a  man  in  flaring  hell 
■'■    F'or  a  single  twist  o'  the  knife; 
There's  many  a  rotting  prison-corpse 
That  keeps  his  cell  for  life; 
But  there's  none  will  stand 
By  the  man  who  planned 
With  a  Pit-perverted  skill 
To  mint  the  world  with  a  German  die — 
At  the  price  of  a  million-kill  ! 

It  isn't  the  Uhlan  battle-thirst, 

It  isn't  the  Belgian  rage, 

It  isn't  the  English  greed  for  land 

That  mires  the  reeking  stage, 

But  the  monstrous  plan 

Of  a  Single  Man 

With  a  world-engulfing  will, 

Who  calls  to  the  vultures  out  o'  the  north 

To  feast  on  a  million-kill. 


^I^^^^^^^l 


The  Kaiser  sits  in  an  armoured  train, 

Far  back  from  the  battle-grip. 

It's  the  Leipzig  boy  and  the  Paris  boy 

Who  crouch  where  the  bullets  nip. 

It's  the  Antwerp  man 

Who  is  ending  his  span 

With  a  blood-choked  prayer,  if  he  will, 

As  he  lies  by  the  side  of  the  Liverpool  lad 

In  the  Kaiser's  million-kill. 

The  Kaiser's  mother — rest  her  soul ! — 

She  hides  her  face  in  heaven. 

She  prays  that  she  were  the  Yorkshire  maid, 

Or  the  widowed  wife  in  Devon. 

They  mourn  their  dead 

W^ith  proud-held  head. 

Whose  souls  are  in  Ciod's  will; 

She  mourns  for  the  thrice-damned  soul  of  him 

Who  planned  the  million-kill ! 


CopyTitthl.\9\*.bythtVANDERH00P-CUNN  COM  !■  \  S  V.  I    I  I'      Ml  rithn  rtservtd. 


39$ 


The  Man  Who  Put  It  Over 

SIR    JOHN    FRENCH,    THE  LITTLE   ENGLISH  GENERAL    WHOSE 
FIELD  TACTICS  HAVE  NOT  ONLY  SURPRISED  THE  KAISER 
BUT  THE  ONLOOKING  NATIONS  IN  THE  WORLD'S 
MOST  STUPENDOUS  CONFLICT. 

By  Captain  W.  Robert  Foran 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 


TO  those  whose  memories  of  the 
Boer  war  are  still  fresh,  the 
name  of  Field  Marshal  John 
Denton  Pinkstone  French  will 
spell  magnificent  dash,  able  general- 
ship, and  all-round  efficiency.  He  is  a 
past-master  in  tactics  and  strategy, 
and  he  has  kept  very  much  up  to  date 
in  all  continental  and  foreign  military 
matters.  "Johnny"  French,  as  he  is 
popularly  known  by  his  comrades  of 
the  army,  is  a  born  soldier,  a  brilliant 
cavalry  leader,  and  a  general  to  whom 
all  must  look  with  confidence.  Like  his 
comrade.  Earl  Kitchener,  French  is  a 
comparatively  young  man  for  a  Field 
Marshal,  for  he  is  not  quite  sixty-two 
years  of  age.  But  in  common  with 
Kitchener  he  has  justly  earned  his 
rapid  rise  in  his  profession.  I  do  not 
suppose  that  there  is  one  general  in 
the  British  army  to-day,  with  the 
exception  of  Roberts  and  Kitchener, 
who  is  more  popular  with  all  ranks. 

Like  his  fellow  Field  Marshal,  Sir 
Evelyn  Wood,  V.C.,  French  began  his 
career  in  the  Royal  Navy,  and  he  is 
none  the  worse  for  this  experience. 
The  Royal  Navy  is  the  salt  of  the  earth 
as  well  as  of  the  sea.  His  father  was  a 
captain  and  so  "Johnny"  French  joined 
the  training  ship  "Britannia"  as  a 
cadet  and  served  for  four  years  in  this 
capacity  and  as  a  midshipman.  But 
his  natural  military  instincts  impelled 
him  to  leave  the  senior  service.  The 
army  offered  more  chances  for  fighting, 
and  being  an  Irishman,  his  heart 
hungered  for  it. 

^  m  gg 

It  was  French  that  "Dropped  from 

the  Clouds  on  Their  Heads" 

at   Barberton 

He  joined  the  8th  King's  Royal 
Irish  Hussars  as  a  subaltern  in  1874, 
shortly  afterwards  transferring  to  the 
19th  Queen  Alexandra's  Own  Hussars. 
He  did  not  obtain  his  desire  for  active 
service  until  the  chance  came  in  1884 
in  the  Sudan,  when  he  fought  through- 
out that  hard  campaign  and  was  pre- 
sent at  the  battles  of  Abu  Klea,  Gubut, 

396 


and      Metem 
periences    a  t 
stood   him  in 
and  he  makes  full 
After  command 
ment    for     four 


ms^:. 


meh.    Hisex- 

the  time  have 

good   stead 

use  of  them. 

'ng     his    regi- 

years,  he  served 


m  important  cavalry  staff  appoint- 
ments for  four  more  years.  Then 
came  his  first  real  chance  to  show 
his  ability  as  a  cavalry  leader,  for  he 
was  promoted  as  Brigadier  General,  to 
command  the  2nd  Cavalry  Brigade. 
Shortly  afterward  he  was  made  tempo- 
rary Major  General  in  charge  of  the 
First  Cavalry  Brigade  at  Aldershot. 
It  was  a  lucky  thing  for  him,  as  it  gave 
him  his  chance  once  more  on  active 
service.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  Boer 
war  he  was  appointed  to  command  the 
Cavalry  Division  in  Natal  with  the 
local  rank  of  Major  General. 

French  at  once  showed  the  stuff  of 
which  he  was  made  and  his  brilliant 
leadership  was  largely  responsible  for 
the  successes  of  the  cavalry  at  Elands- 
laagte,  Reitfontein  and  Lombards'  Kop. 
From  that  time  onwards  he  was  a 
marked  man  and  acclaimed  the  best 
cavalry  general  in  South  Africa.  His 
Natal  successes  brought  him  promotion 
to  Major  General  and  the  temporary 
appointment  as  Lieutenant  General  in 
command  of  the  Cavalry  Division  in 
Lord  Roberts'  army.  Natal  brought 
him  two  mentions  in  despatches  for 
highly  creditable  work  and  Knight- 
hood in  the  Order  of  the  Bath. 

He  commanded  the  cavalry  troops  in 
the  operations  about  Colesburg  and 
highly  acquitted  himself  of  the  task 
entrusted  to' his  care;  then  came  his 
brilliant  work  in  command  of  Roberts' 
cavalry  in  the  advance  on  Pretoria,  the 
capture  of  Cronje  after  the  relief  of 
Kimberley,  the  capture  of  Bloemfon- 
tein  and  the  battles  east  of  Pretoria. 
In  these  latter  engagements  Lord 
Roberts  mentioned  French  no  less  than 
eight  times  in  three  days  when  writing 
his  despatches  to  the  War  Office.  His 
later  South  African  services  culminated 
in  the  capture  of  Barberton,  the  opera- 
tions in  the  Eastern  Transvaal  which 


went  so  far  towards  ending  the  long 
war,  and  his  relentless  wearing  down  of 
the  rebels  in  the  Cape  Colony. 

The  Sudan  campaign  and  the  Boer 
war  are  French's  only  two  experiences 
of  active  service,  but  they  are  more 
than  many  other  generals  have  had, 
including  most  of  the  Continental 
leaders.  Even  if  he  had  not  tasted 
real  warfare  French  has  for  years 
attended  all  the  military  manoeuvers 
of  the  foreign  armies  and  has  kept  him- 
self well  posted  on  military  develop- 
ments and  changes  in  tactics.  His 
experiences  as  Inspector  General  of  the 
Forces  of  the  British  Empire  have  aided 
him  considerably  in  the  task  that  is 
now  before  him. 


He  Forgot  His  Book  of  Tactics  to  Play 

the  Boers  at  Their  Own  Game 

— and  Beat  Them 

As  a  proof  of  the  confidence  reposed 
in  him,  it  is  onlj'  necessary  to  look  at  his 
rapid  rise  since  his  return  as  a  Lieuten- 
ant General  from  the  Boer  war.  In 
twelve  years  he  has  risen  to  General 
and  recently  to  Field  Marshal,  has  held 
all  the  highest  posts  possible  from  the 
cornmand  of  the  First  Army  Corps  to 
Chief  of  the  Imperial  Staff,  First 
Military  Member  of  the  Army  Council 
and  Inspector  General  of  the  Imperial 
Forces.  He  is  an  Aide-de-Camp 
General  to  the  King  and  a  General 
Officer  Commanding-in-Chief  (First 
Class).  There  is  practically  no  other 
post  of  greater  trust  which  he  can  fill. 

Now  all  the  British  Empire  rests  its 
eyes  upon  him  and  hopes  that  he  will 
display  the  same  brilliant  qualities  of 
leadership  that  he  developied  in  the 
Boer  war.  It  is  too  early  to  predict 
the  end.  This  ghastly  European 
conflict  will  break  many  ideals  in 
generalship,  and  it  will  bring  to  light 
many  soldiers  who  have  never  before 
been  heard  of.  War  is  either  the  grave 
of  reputations  or  else  the  birth  of 
careers. 

But  up  to  the  time  of  writing  this 
appreciation,    "Johnny"    French    has 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


397 


proved  his  ability  as  a  general  very 
conclusively.  The  British  forces  have 
borne  the  brunt  of  the  fighting  and 
acquitted  themselves  well.  French's 
mind  is  primarily  responsible  for  un- 
doubted successes.  Day  by  day  his 
generalship  outwitted  the  Germans. 
In  spite  of  their  much  superior  force, 
he  evaded  their  efforts  to  entrap  his 
army,  minimized  the  loss  of  life,  and 
kept  his  army  intact,  a  perfect  fighting 
machine.  His  strategy  and  tactics 
have  called  forth  the  repeated  admira- 
tion of  General  JofTre,  the  French  com- 
mander-in-chief. 

The  first  detailed  report  made  by 
him,  published  on  September  tenth, 
covering  operations  along  the  French 
frontier  and  the  four  days'  battle  that 
began  at  Mons  that  memorable  Sunday 
afternoon,  is  already  a  military  classic. 
Matter-of-fact,  brief,  concise,  crediting 
his  subordinates  with  their  share  of  the 
work,  it  puts  before  the  reader  unfor- 
gettably the  deadly  business  of  war. 

Military  experts  attribute  his  mas- 
terly retreat  during  those  four  days  of 
fighting,  and  later,  to  the  lessons  he 
learned  in  the  Boer  war.  General 
French  knew  that  the  time  for  a  stand 
had  not  yet  come,  and  he  was  too 
experienced  a  campaigner  not  to  go 
"while  the  going  was  good."  He  knew 
when  to  retreat  and  when  to  retreat 
fast.     Thus  he  saved  his  army. 

The  English  general  of  the  pre-Boer 
war  school  would  have  stayed  to  fight 
and  would  have  fought  until  all  chance 
of  successful  retreat  was  past.  But, 
as  a  great  general  has  said,  "The  only 
school  of  war  is  war,"  and  in  war 
General  French  learned  how  to  out- 
manoeuvre the  generals  of  the  most 
military  nation  in  the  world. 

All  the  accepted  tactics  of^modern 
warfare  have  been  ruthlessly  shattered 
in  this  campaign.  It  was  the  same  in 
the  Boer  war.  When  other  generals 
were  hopelessly  at  sea  in  South  Africa, 
owing  to  the  newness  of  the  strategy- 
and  character  of  fighting,  Johnny 
French  forgot  his  book  of  tactics  and 
suited  himself  at  once  to  the  altered 
conditions.  It  is  a  faculty  that  he 
possesses,  and  it  is  one  that  is  invalu- 
able. French  played  the  Boers  at  their 
own  game;  and  he  played  it  better 
(han  they  played  it.  It  is  this  adapta- 
bility which  is  likely  to  prove  his  great- 
est asset  in  the  new  war.  His  mind, 
like  his  body,  works  swiftly  and  to  pur- 
p<jse.  He  is  seldom,  if  ever,  at  a  loss 
what  to  do;  he  knows  what  he  wants 
and  gets  it;  he  knows  how  to  inculcate 
his  own  sound  judgment  into  others; 
and  he  can  secure  the  very  best  from 
his  command. 

My  first  meeting  with  French  took 
place  in  the  Orange  River  Colony  when 
Lord  Roberts'  army  was  marching 
victoriously  towards  IVctoria.  I  had 
ridden    into    the    cami)    of    French's 


F'r 


Ul     UIL  WOKLIJ  IN    nit  sliCU.NU   MU.VItl  u^    lilt  WAK 


cavalry  Division  bearing  despatches 
for  the  little  General.  The  Division  was 
camped  at  a  Boer  farm  house,  which 
had  been  deserted  the  day  before  by  its 
owners  on  hearing  that  the  "Kerel" 
French  was  coming.  The  Boers  feared 
him  even  more  than  they  did  Roberts, 
for  was  not  French  the  slimmest  of  the 
slimmest,  had  he  not  played  them  at 
their  own  gaine  and  gone  one  better  ? 
The  little  farm  house  was  a  strangely 
altered  scene  from  what  it  had  been  in 
the  morning.  Where  at  sunrise  a  few 
oxen  grazed  quietly,  now  the  veldt  was 
covered  with  a  great  division  of  men 
and  horses.     As  I  rmle  up,  red-lapelled 


staff  officers  came  hurriedly  through 
the  rooms  and  passed  back  and  forth 
on  missions  from  the  General.  Now 
and  then  a  very  dapper  little  man  in 
brown  riding-boots  walked  out  on  to 
the  stoep,  and  said  something  that 
caused  men  to  spring  to  take  papers 
from  his  hand,  mount,  and  ritle  away 
at  breakneck  speed.  It  was  French. 
I  knew  that  at  once  from  descriptions 
that  had  been  given  of  him. 

A  very  anxious  looking  staff  officer 
dismounte<l  stiffly  from  his  horse, 
hande<l  the  reins  to  an  orderly  who  had 
ridden  with  him,  and  stalkt"d  inside  the 
house.     A    few    minutes    later  he  re- 


398 

appeared  with  the  dapper  General, 
both  of  them  talking  quickly  in  low 
tones.  French  held  a  half-unrolled 
map  in  his  hands,  seated  himself  on  an 
empty  biscuit-box,  spread  the  map  out 
flat  on  his  knees,  and  used  his  fore- 
finger as  an  emphatic  pointer.  He 
appeared  to  be  insisting  upon  some- 
thing of  the  utmost  importance.  The 
staff  officer  finally  smiled  and  nodded, 
whereat  a  look  of  pleased  satisfaction 
spread  over  the  brick-red,  square- 
featured  face  of  the  stout  little  general. 
With  a  cheery  "All  right.  Good 
night  !"  he  strode  inside  the  house  once 
more,  and  the  stafT  officer  rode  rapidly 
away  in  a  cloud  of  dust.  "Johnny" 
French,  I  assured  myself,  must  have 
another  of  those  wonderful  move- 
ments of  his  simmering  in  his  active 
brain. 

A  few  minutes  later  I  was  ushered 
into    the    great    man's    presence    and 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

delivered  my  message.  He  was  all 
courtesy,  very  businesslike,  and  wasted 
no  words.  I  had  a  chance  to  see  him 
then  closer  than  at  any  other  time. 

Somehow  French  does  not  strike  you 
with  any  idea  of  his  being  the  wonder- 
ful man  he  really  is,  smart  and  quick 
to  move — except  when  you  take  par- 
ticular notice  of  his  shrewd,  twinkling 
little  eyes  that  seem  to  take  in  every- 
thing about  him.  He  most  certainly 
does  not  look  the  ideal  cavalry  leader. 
There  is  nothing  of  a  Brigadier  Gerard 
in  his  appearance.  He  is  short,  dumpy, 
jaunty,  sitting  a  horse  rather  like  the 
proverbial  sack  of  flour.  If  you  were 
to  see  him  booted  and  spurred  in  Alder- 
shot  town  during  manoeuvres,  you 
would  be  justified  on  appearances  in 
placing  him  as  a  colonel  of  infantry, 
who  had  learned  to  ride  from  a  Red- 
Book  in  a  riding  school,  only  acquiring 
the  slight   knowledge  at   considerable 


effort.  And  yet,  I  know  he  is  a  great 
fox-hunting  man,  and  rides  straight  to 
hounds  over  everything. 

When  I  saluted  him,  he  returned  it 
courteously  and  with  a  smiling  fact — 
very  different  to  Kitchener.  When  he 
finds  fault,  so  I  have  heard  from  those 
qualified  to  speak  with  authority,  there 
is  no  mistaking  his  meaning.  Staff 
officers  have  told  me  that  his  voca- 
bulary does  not  lack  emphasis  nor 
color.  Once  upon  a  time  he  had  spoken 
to  a  luckless  Brigadier  of  his  Division, 
who  had  contrived  to  mask  the  guns 
of  "French's  Pets"  in  a  certain  action 
with  the  Boers.  It  was  added  that  the 
recipient  of  his  address  appeared  to  be 
praying  for  the  advent  of  a  six-inch 
shell  by  way  of  a  change  of  subject. 
It  may  not  be  true — these  things  have 
a  way  of  being  exaggerated  in  the  tell- 
ing— but  they  report  that  French  sar- 
Continued  on  page  453. 


The  Red  Badge  of  Courage 

DUCHESS,  FINE  LADY,  COUNTRY  WOMAN,  FACTORY  GIRL. 

THIS  IS  THE  TALE  OF  THOSE  WHO  GAVE 

INSTEAD  OF  GOING 

By  Irene  Wrenshall 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 


IN  THE  RED  CROSS  WORKROOMS  THERE  IS  LII  ILE  TALK  OF  THE  WAR.       "IF  WE  LET 

OURSELVES  SPEAK  OF  IT,  THE  WORK  WOULD  NEVER  BE  FINISHED,"  THE 

WOMEN  SAY,  AS  THEIR  FINGERS  FLY  WITH  THE  NEEDLES 


'■'— r^] 


*HESE  are  three  pillows  made 
by  a  neighbor  of  mine  and 
myself.  She  sewed  the  ticks 
and  I  found  the  feathers. 
We're  going  to  make  more,  but  we 
hurried  these  in,"  and  the  greyhaired 
little  lady  laid  her  fat  fluffy  parcel  on 
the  Headquarters'  table.  She'd  car-" 
ried  it  all  the  way  down  in  the  street 
car,  though  it  was   big  enough  to  have 


caused  the  dear  knows  how  many 
smiles  if  you  hadn't  seen  the  steady 
grey  eyes — the  far-gazing,  battle-seeing 
eyes — above  the  bundle. 

For  the  Headquarters  belonged  to 
the  Women's  Patriotic  League  and  the 
little  lady  had  a  brother  in  the  British 
Regulars,  and  the  morning  paper  'long- 
side  her  Bible. 

She  had  hardly  explained  her  errand. 


when  a  handsomely  dressed  Jewess 
stepped  up  to  the  table. 

"We've  offers  from  a  number  of 
Jewish  factory  girls,"  she  said.  "They 
can't  give  or  go,  you  know,  but  they 
say  they'll  come  and  sew  in  the  eve- 
nings. Our  club  is  providing  the  room. 
Will  you  tell  us  what  to  work  at  ?" 

The  phone  rang. 

"The  Sisters  of  St.   Blank  want  to 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


399 


know  if  we  can  give  them  something 
to  do.  They'll  turn  the  whole  convent 
on  to  it,"  said  the  woman  with  the 
note-book,  "what'll  we  send  ?" 

That's  how  it  goes.  You  really 
can't  interview  any  of  these  busy 
workers.  But  then  again  you  don't 
need  to.  Bring  your  camera  eye  and 
your  dictaphone  pencil,  and  the  scen- 
ario will  work  out  as  you  go  along. 

When,  in  the  first  rush  of  enthusiasm 
the  suggestion  to  raise  funds  for  the 
equipment  of  a  hospital  ship  was  made 
by  the  I.  O.  D.  E.,  and  the  idea  taken 
up  with  an  eagerness  which  carried  the 
venture  to  a  splendid  finish  on  a  wave 
of  strong  feeling,  a  central  committee 
was  formed  in  Toronto  composed  of 
representatives  of  all  the  women's 
societies.  The  enthusiasm  was  not 
confined  to  the  Queen  City,  but  spread 
with  unabated  zeal  all  over  Canada. 
Even  yet,  though  the  fund  has  been 
closed  and  the  money — which  swelled 
to  the  sum  of  S243,000.00--has  been 
sent,  through  H.  R.  H.  the  Duchess  of 
Connaught,  to  the  Admiralty,  to  be 
used,  not  as  was  first  intended  for  a 
hospital  ship  but  for  the  "Canadian 
Women's  Hospital"  at  Portsmouth, 
England,  money  is  still  coming  in. 

When  the  collecting  in  Toronto  was 
completed  by  a  general  Flag  Day,  and 
while  funds  wdre  still  pouring  in  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  even  from  the 
smallest  villages  and  country  places, 
where  the  Women's  Institutes  made 
known  the  noble  cause,  there  were 
sceptics  who  said,  "It  is  one  thing  for 
these  women-officers  and  workers  of  all 
the  Women's  Clubs  and  societies,  to  go 
around  in  autos  and  wave  flags  and  col- 
lect funds,  but  it  will  be  quite  another 


ia£tgafejr  »«-T?Wir>urtfcj».isjgw* 


Photograph  Underwood  d  Undervood,  .V 

RED  CROSS  KURSES  BBING  INSPt' :.,..,., _.,, l'i:.AKER  OF  THE  IIOUS&  OF  COMMONS, 

JUST  BGi'ORE  THEIR  DBPARTURK  rOR  THE  FRONT 


matter  when  the  practical  work  is  to 
be  done,  when  the  soldiers  need  com- 
forts, and  the  wounded  need  supplies." 
But  events  have  proved  the  contrary. 


Copyriihi  tnltmadoiul  Nims  Stnlct 

TWO  WOUNDED  fOtDIBRS  OM  THIIR  WAY  BACK 
A  TROPHY — THB 


TO  rOLKBttONB.  ONB  OF  THBM  PROUDLY  UI&PLAVINC 
CAP  OP  A  DBAD  UHLAK 


Scarcely  were  the  returns  for  the 
Hospital  Ship  funds  counted  up  when 
the  Central  committee  was  again  busy, 
this  time  consulting  with  the  Red 
Cross  Society  as  to  what  would  be 
necessary  for  hospital  supplies  and 
comforts  for  the  men.  It  was  decided 
to  retain  this  central  committee — per- 
haps the  strongest  body  of  women  ever 
organized  in  Canada,  because  repre- 
sentative of  every  one  of  the  women's 
societies,  national,  religious,  political, 
and  social — and  to  offer  it  to  the 
Government  as  an  instrument  for 
patriotic  service  "under  orders  from 
the  Red  Ooss  Society."  The  offer 
was  enthusiastically  accepted  and  a 
general  secretary  was  appointed  for 
all  outside  work. 

They  did  not  organize  as  a  branch 
of  the  Red  Cross  Society,  because  the 
situation  seemed  to  ask  of  these  willing 
workers  not  only  provision  for  the 
soldiers,  lx)th  wounded  and  well,  but 
also  for  those  left  behind  and  those 
who,  as  a  result  of  the  war  might  feel 
the  pinch  of  poverty  and  want,  so  the 
name  chosen  was  the  Women's  Pat- 
riotic League  of  Toronto,  and  in  the 
circulars  sent  out  to  the  different  local 
councils  of  women  and  societies  of  all 
kinds  in  other  places,  an  effort  has 
fdiitiniirH  on  page  444. 


The  Mystery  of  the 
Jade  Earring 

By  Henry  Kitchell  Webster 

Author  of  "The. Butterfly."  -The 
Whispering  Man."  etc. 


Illustrated  by  Percy  Edward  Anderson 


CHAPTER  I. 

WHAT    THEY    FOUND    IN    THE    ICE. 

WE  didn't  often  talk  about  crimes 
in  our  family.  Not,  at  least, 
about  the  mysterious,  inex- 
plicable crimes  of  violence 
that  trumpeted  their  horrors  at  you 
every  little  while  from  the  front  pages 
of  the  papers.  When  you  have  been 
there  yourself,  have  seen  names  you 
know  and  love  pilloried  there,  you 
understand,  altogether  too  well,  how 
it  feels  to  take  an  idle,  curious  interest 
when  the  thing  happens  to  some  one 
else. 

But  this  present  mystery  proved  an 
exception.  It  seemed  so  completely 
detached  from  all  human  motive,  so 
devoid  of  the  usual  accessories  of  grief 
and  agony  and  shame,  that  we  found 
ourselves  discussing  it  that  night  with- 
out reservation — Jack  and  Gwendolyn, 
his  pretty  young  wife,  and  Madeline 
and  I.  If  we  discussed  it  with  a  sort 
of  exaggerated  nonchalance,  which 
showed  that  really  in  the  background 
of  all  our  minds,  that  other  mystery 
still  lurked  and  cast  its  shadow — the 
murder  of  the  man  who  had  been 
Madeline's  husband  and  Jack's  father 
— I  doubt  if  any  outsider  would  have 
been  able  to  detect  it. 

But  Jeffrey  wasn't  an  outsider. 
And  he  has  the  most  amazingly  sensi- 
tive perceptions  of  any  man  I  know. 
That  is,  perhaps,  the  reason  why  he 

400 


WHAT  IN  THE  WORLD  HAVE  YOU 

PEOPLE  BEEN  TALKING 

ABOUT  ? 


can  paint  the  way  he  can;  can  open 
up  the  innermost  recesses  of  character 
in  those  beautiful,  terrible  canvases  of 
his.  We  weren't  expecting  him;  didn't 
know,  indeed,  that  he'd  come  back 
from  his  three  months'  vacation.  And 
you  might  have  expected  that  our  sur- 
prise and  pleasure  at  the  sight  of  him 
and  the  warmth  of  our  greeting  would 
have  veiled  everything  else.  We  were 
all  trying  to  shake  hands  with  him  at 
once  and  patting  him  on  the  back, 
demanding  to  know  when  he  returned 
and  why  he  didn't  tell  us  in  advance; 
so  that  we  gave  him  no  chance  to 
answer  and  hardly  to  take  off  his  over- 
coat. 

But,  instead  of  even  trying  to 
answer,  he  stepped  back  and  stood 
looking  at  us,  from  one  face  to  another, 
and  puckered  up  his  eyebrows  in  a 
puzzled  frown. 

"What  in  the  world,"  he  asked, 
"have'  all  you  people  been  talking 
about  ?" 

Nobody  answered  for  a  minute. 
There  was  something  almost  uncanny 
about  it.  Madeline  gave  a  little  shiver. 
Jack's  wife  stood  looking  at  Jeffrey 
with  that  level,  thoughtful  look  of  hers, 
and  finally  said: 

"I'm  glad  I  haven't  any  secrets. 
Could  you  keep  your  own,  do  you 
think,  as  well  as  you  can  read  other 
people's  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Jeffrey.  "It 
would  be  an  interesting  experiment  to 


try.  But  what  a  perfectly  detestable 
character  you're  giving  me.  I  own  I 
deserve  it,  walking  into  a  roomful  of 
people  and  asking  them  what  they've 
been  talking  about." 

"You  know  perfectly  well,"  said 
Madeline,  "that  in  this  household 
there  never  could  be  a  wish  to  keep 
anything  from  you.  You've  earned, 
many  times  over,  the  right  to  ask  us 
what  we  have  been  talking  about. 
But  in  this  case  it  wasn't  a  secret  at 
all.  We  were  talking  about  the  girl 
they  found  in  the  ice  last  month." 

Jeffrey  looked  puzzled.  "Found  in 
the  ice  ?"  he  questioned.     "Who  ?" 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  haven't 
heard  of  it  !"  I  cried.  "The  country's 
been  ringing  with  it." 

"Yes,  but  I  haven't  been  in  the 
country,"  said  Jeffrey.  "I  only  landed 
late  this  afternoon.  Went  straight 
over  to  the  Atlas,  got  ruy  first  fresh- 
water bath  in  three  weeks,  dined,  and 
came  up  here.  Didn't  even  stop  to 
read  the  evening  papers." 

"You're  looking  pretty  well,"  I  com- 
mented, "certainly  a  sight  better  than 
when  you  went  away.  You  had  us 
all  worried." 

"It  was  fearfully  unmannerly  of 
me,"  said  Jeffrey  to  Madeline,  "to 
run  off  that  way  without  a  word,  but 
I  suspect  I  did  need  a  rest  pretty  badly. 
I  decided  to  go  all  in  a  minute.  The 
decorators  were  at  work  there  in  the 
studio,  and  every  time  they  pulled 
down  a  bit  of  loose  plaster  I  went  up  in 
the  air.  So  at  last  I  gave  the  key  to 
my  Jap  and  fled.  But  I  am  a  lot 
better." 

"Sit  down,"  I  commanded  him, 
"and  light  a  pipe,  and  tell  us  all  about 
it— where  you've  been  and  what  you've 
been  doing." 

Jeffrey  lighted  a  pipe  obediently 
enough,  and  settled  down  in  the  big 
chair  which  Jack  rolled  round  in  front 
of  the  fire  for  him,  but  then  instead 
of  beginning  his  "Odyssey,"  as  I  had 
commanded  him,  he  smoked  in  silence 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


401 


for  a  minute,  then  turned  to  Gwen- 
dolyn and  asked: 

"What  about  the  girl  in  the  ice  ? 
Oh,  my  adventures  will  keep  !"  he  went 
on,  as  I  started  to  protest.  "You  will 
be  hearing  about  them  for  the  next 
six  months.  A  returned  traveler's  a 
nuisance,  anyway.  Besides,  you've 
whetted  my  curiosity.  Be  a  good  chap 
and  let  Mrs.  Jack  satisfy  it." 

It  was  natural  that  he  should  have 
turned  to  Gwendolyn  for  the  story. 
We  all  did  that  when  we  wanted  the 
facts  about  anything.  Her  voice  was 
so  lovely,  in  the  first  place,  that  there 
was  a  sort  of  sensuous  pleasure  just  in 
listening  to  her.  And  then,  when 
Gwendolyn  told  it,  you  knew  it  was  so. 
People  have  a  way  of  talking  about 
truth-telling  as  if  it  were  simply  a 
matter  of  good  intentions.  You  have 
told  the  truth  unless  you  meant  to  be 
a  liar.  And  yet,  if  you  will  stop  to 
think,  you  can  probably  call  to  mind 
half  a  dozen  people  whom  you  know  are 
honest,  and  whom  you  wouldn't  be- 
lieve on  oath.  And  if  you're  a  lawyer 
like  me,  your  difficulty  would  be  the 
other  way;  to  think  of  half  a  dozen 
whose  account  of  an  occurrence  you 
could  believe  absolutely  and  literally 
and  without  discounts  or  reservations. 
Well,  Gwendolyn  would  certainly  head 
the  list  in  my  half  dozen. 

"I  don't  know  where  you  were  two 
months  ago,"  Gwendolyn  began,  "and 
you  may  not  have  heard  that  we  had 
a  week  of  the  coldest  weather  they 
have  known  here  since  they  began  to 
keep  the  records.  The  thermometer 
stayed  below  zero  for  six  days.  Most 
of  the  time  it  was  a  long  way  below. 
It  came  very  suddenly,  so  that  the 
river,  which  had  been  entirely  open, 
froze,  within  that  week,  over  eight 
inches  deep,  and  the  ice  people  began 
cutting. 

"It  was  early  in  January,  about  the 
tenth  I  think,  that  an  ice-cutter  at 
Silver  Springs  discovered  a  body  frozen 
in  the  ice.  It  was  a  girl — a  young 
woman  somewhere  in  her  twenties. 
Even  in  the  pictures  they  took  of  her, 
she  was  very,  very  beautiful.  And 
what  she  must  have  been  really — 
well  one  can  imagine  it  !  Because, 
you  see,  the  body  wasn't  changed  at 
all.  It  had  frozen  just  exactly  as  it 
was,  probably  within  a  few  hours  after 
it  had  been  put  in  the  water." 

"Been  put  !"  echoed  Jeffrey.  "Then 
she  hadn't  drowned  herself  ?" 

"No,"  said  Gwendolyn,  "it  was 
murder.  She  had  been  shot  through 
the  heart." 

"Still,"  interrupted  Jeffrey,  "why 
murder  ?  Why  not  suicide  with  the 
revolver  and  a  tumble  into  the  river  ?" 
"It  was  murder,"  said  I,  for  Gwen- 
dolyn had  hesitated  over  the  horror  of 
the  thing. 

"No     powder     marks    around     the 


"NO,"  SAID  CWBNOOLYN.      "IT  WAS  MUKDER.      SHB  HAD  BEEN  SHOT  THROUGH  THE  HBART 


wound,  I  suppose,"  suggested  Jeffrey. 
"Shot  fired  from  a  distance." 

I  nodded. 

"How-  was  she  dressed  ?"  he  con- 
cluded. He  turned  to  Gwendolyn 
with  that  question. 

"That's  one  of  the  weirdest  things 
about  it,"  said  Gwendolyn.  "She 
was  jn  evening  dress,  dressed  as  if  for 
a  ball,  and  her  hair-  perfectly  wonder- 
ful hair,  it  must  have  been  from  the 
picture — was  done  that  way,  too." 

"And  they  haven't  identified  her  ?" 
questioned  Jeffrey.  "If  the  body  was 
literally  in   perfect   preservation — " 

"It  was,"  said   Gwendolyn.     "You 


could  even  see  the  pressure  marks  of 
the  rings  on  her  fingers,  they  said." 

"That  points  to  robbery,  doesn't 
it  ?"  said  Jeffrey.  "She'd  have  worn 
her  rings  to  the  ball." 

"She  hadn't  been  at  the  ball,"  said 
Gwendolyn.  "At  least,  she  wasn't  in 
ball  dress  when  she  was  murdered. 
There  was  no  bullet-hole  in  the  bodice 
of  her  gown  and  no  stain  of  blood 
on  the  white  satin.  They  dressed  her 
that  way  after  she  was  killed.  So  you 
see  it  wasn't  robbery." 

"I  can't  help  thinking,"  Gwendolyn 
concluded,  "that  the  murder  was  com- 
mitted by  some  insane  person.    Sure- 


402 

y  it  doesn't  seem  that  any  one  in  his 
senses  would  have  run  that  risk  and 
taken  that  trouble  to  do  what,  one 
would  think,  must  make  the  identifica- 
tion easier." 

"It  is  possible,"  said  Jeflfrey,  "that 
if  he'd  read  the  weather  reports,  he 
wouldn't  have  done  it." 

The  remark  sounded  perfectly  flip- 
pant to  me,  but  I  caught  a  sudden  look 
of  intelligence  in  Gwendolyn's  eyes  and 
saw  that  Jeffrey  had  meant  something 
by  it.  In  the  same  moment  he  saw  the 
bewilderment  in  mine. 

"Assuming,"  he  explained,  "that 
the  person  was  still  sane,  he  might  al- 
most safely  have  counted  on  the  cur- 
rent carrying  the  body  away  altogether 
and  its  never  being  found.  And  if 
he  wanted  to  dispose  of  the  dress  at 
the  same  time,  perhaps  that  was  as 
good  a  way  to  do  it  as  any.  But  he 
didn't  count  on  the  freeze.  That  must 
have  caused  him  some  pretty  bad 
nights,  I  should  think,  and  days  hardly 
better.  It's  perfectly  extraordinary, 
when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  that  she 
hasn't  been  identified.  You  say  the 
pictures  were  published  in  the  papers  ?' 
"Everywhere  !"  I  exclaimed.  "The 
country's  been  ringing  with  it." 

"Well,"  said  Jeffrey,  in  the  tone  of 
one  who  dismisses  the  subject,  "that's 
very  interesting." 

"Wait  a  minute  !"  exclaimed  Jack. 
"I  can  show  you  the  picture.  I  cut  it 
out  of  the  paper  and  laid  it  away  some- 
where." 

"Don't  bother  !"  exclaimed  Jeffrey. 
"No  bother  at  all."     Jack  already 
had  his  hand  on  the  door. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,"  Jeffrey  ad- 
mitted, "I  don't  believe  I  want  to  look 
at  it.  Let's  talk  about  something  else. 
Dead  faces  are  beginning  to  get  a  little 
on  my  nerves.  Oh,  it's  nothing  seri- 
ous," he  went  on,  seeing  the  look  of 
surprise  on  our  faces,  "and  no  doubt 
it's  silly  of  me  to  feel  that  way  about 
it.  But — well,  I  mean  it  just  the 
same." 

"I  suppose,"  said  Madeline,  "that 
you're  loaded  up  with  commissions 
after  your  vacation.  You  must  have 
sitters  three  or  four  deep,  clamoring 
at  your  studio  door." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Jeffrey.  "I 
haven't  seen  my  business  man  since  I 
came  back.  Haven't  even  been  to  my 
studio.  But  I  hope  to  Heaven  he 
doesn't  get  me  any  more  commissions 
like  the  last  one.  You  knew  what  that 
was,  didn't  you  ?"  He  turned  to  me. 
"The  thing  I  wa.s  at  work  on  when  I 
bolted  ?" 

"I  seem  to  remember,"  said  I, 
"that  you  were  doing  some  work  for 
Miss  Meredith." 

"The  Miss  Meredith  ?"  questioned 
Madeline. 

Jeffrey  nodded.  "The  same.  The 
queer,  rich,  invisible  Miss  Meredith." 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

We  all  exclaimed  over  his  last  word. 
"Invisible  !  Then  what  were  you 
painting  ?  A  spirit-picture  of  her  ?" 
The  last  question  was  Jack's.  It 
seemed  to  affect  Jeffrey  a  little  un- 
pleasantly, for  he  gave  a  little  shake 
to  his  head  as  one  will  when  a  fly  is 
buzzing  about  one's  ear. 

"I  wasn't  doing  a  portrait  of  her," 
he  exclaimed.  "I  was  painting  from 
a  photograph,  and  a  few  relics  and 
souvenirs,  what  was  meant  for  a  por- 
trait of  a  niece  of  hers — I  think  it  was 
a  niece — who,  I  understand,  died 
several  years  ago." 

I  laughed.  "I  knew  some  men  did 
that  sort  of  work.  It's  rather  a  new 
line  for  you,  isn't  it  ?" 

"Never  before,"  said  Jeffrey,  "and 
never  again  !  Of  course  they  offered 
me  a  perfectly  immoral  price  for  it,  but 
even  at  that  I  shouldn't  have  done  it, 
except  for  the  fact  that  I  found  the 
photograph  they  showed  me  rather 
attractive." 

"Beautiful,  I  suppose,"  said  Made- 
line. "That  shouldn't  be  wondered 
at.  They  say  Miss  Meredith  was  a 
great  beauty  in  her  day." 

"Yes,"  said  Jeffrey,  "it  was  extra- 
ordinarily beautiful." 

"That  wasn't  what  you  meant 
though,"  commented  Gwendolyn. 

"No,  it  wasn't,"  Jeffrey  admitted. 
"There  was  something  about  it  that 
was  queer.  I — I  don't  believe  I  can 
explain  it  any  better  than  that.  And 
that's  not  explaining  it  at  all." 

He  fell  into  a  little  thoughtful 
silence,  and  we  all  watched  him  curi- 
ously. I'd  felt  all  the  evening,  and  I 
found  after  he'd  gone  that  the  others 
shared  the  feeling,  a  sense  of  difference 
in  him. 

He  seemed  well  again,  but  I  felt 
perfectly  sure  that  the  thing  he  had 
recovered  from  cut  a  good  deal  deeper 
than  a  mere  attack  of  nerves,  and 
had  a  solider  cause  than  the  activities 
of  the  decorators  who  were  pulling 
down  loose  plaster  in  his  studio-build- 
ing. 

Whatever  that  cause  was,  he  didn't 
mean  to  tell  it.  He  brought  back 
with  a  little  effort,  I  would  have  sworn, 
his  old  smile  and  took  up  the  conver- 
sation again. 

"The  queerest  thing  about  it  is," 
he  said,  "thaf  Miss  Meredith  herself 
never  came  to  see  me,  nor  let  me  come 
to  see  her.  I  wasn't  surprised  when 
the  arrangements  for  the  portrait  were 
made  by  a  man  who  seemed  to  be  a 
sort  of  confidential  agent  of  hers,  as 
well  as  her  private  physician — a  rather 
charming  chap,  named  Crow.  When 
the  arrangements  were  completed  and 
I  expressed  a  wish  to  talk  with  Miss 
Meredith  herself,  as  some  one  who  had 
known  the  girl  whose  portrait  I  was 
to  paint,  and  could  supply  me  with 
some  of  those  intimate  little  details, 


tricks  of  speech,  habits  of  manner,  and 
so  on,  that  you  have  to  know  before 
you  can  paint  a  portrait.  Crow  seemed 
a  little  embarrassed  and  said  he  was 
afraid  it  was  impossible. 

"Miss  Meredith  was  in  a  rather  dis- 
turbed, nervous  state  and  couldn't  see 
anybody.  If  I'd  ask  him  the  ques- 
tions, or,  better  still,  write  them  out, 
he'd  undertake  to  get  answers  for  me. 
I  was  in  two  minds  about  chucking  up 
the  whole  thing,  but  it  seemed  Miss 
Meredith  was  very  anxious  that  I  paint 
the  portrait.  And  then — well,  I 
wanted  to  paint  it  myself." 

The  same  troubled,  thoughtful  look 
came  back  into  his  face  with  that  last 
sentence. 

"How  did  you  come  out  with  it  ?" 
I  asked.  "I  suppose  under  such  a 
handicap,  it  would  be  impossible  to 
really  satisfy  her." 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Jeffrey, 
"she  was  greatly  pleased  with  it.  She 
came  to  the  studio  to  see  it  the  day 
I  went  away." 

"Surely  you  saw  her  then  ?"  said 
Jack. 

Jeffrey  shook  his  head.  "No,"  said 
he.  "They  made  a  special  arrange- 
ment to  come  and  look  at  it  while  I 
was  out.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  haven't 
been  back  to  the  studio  myself  since 
she  came  and  saw  it.  Crow  called 
me  up  at  my  apartment  that  evening 
and  congratulated  me  on  having  suc- 
ceeded so  well  with  it." 

He  fell  silent  again  after  that.  Said 
nothing  at  all  for  a  long  time.  At  last, 
with  a  little  sigh,  and  another  shake  of 
the  head,  he  rose  to  go. 

"I'm  quite  all  right  again,"  he  as- 
sured us.  "You're  not  to  worry  about 
me,"  for  he  saw  plainly  enough  what 
we  were  thinking.  "All  I  need  is 
work,  and  I  imagine  there's  plenty  of 
that  stacked  up  ahead  of  me  at  the 
studio." 

But,  after  he  had  got  into  his  over- 
coat and  gloves,  he  stood  a  moment 
looking  at  us  thoughtfully,  hat  in  hand, 
his  other  hand  on  the  door-knob. 

"You  people  were  faced  once  with 
an  ■  insoluble  contradiction,"  he  said 
slowly — "a  thing  that  must  be  true 
and  yet  couldn't  be  true.  Well,  that's 
the  sort  of  problem  I've  been  gnawing 
away  at  for  the  last  three  months — a 
perfect  circle.  You  follow  it  all  the 
way  around,  and  bring  up  where  you 
began.  I'm  going  to  quit.  I'm  going 
back  to  work.  Good  night  !" 
And  with  a  nod  he  was  gone. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE   FIRST   COVERT. 

When  I  walked  into  my  office  about 
half  past  nine  the  next  morning,  I  was 
greeted  by  my  clerk  with  the  informa- 
tion that  Jeffrey  had  been  trying  to 
get  me  and  wanted  me  to  call  him  up 
as  soon  as  I  came  in.     While  we  were 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


403 


talking,  the  phone  rang  and  Madeline 
called  to  say  that  Jeflfrey  had  been 
trying  to  get  me  at  the  house.  So, 
without  stopping  to  take  off  my  over- 
coat or  hat,  I  called  up  his  studio. 

I  heard  him  unhook  the  receiver  be- 
fore the  bell  had  stopped  ringing,  and 
knew  he  must  have  been  waiting  by 
the  instrument  for  my  call.  The 
quality  of  his  voice  shocked  me.  It 
was  harassed,  uneven,  keyed  up  clear 
to  the  breaking-point  with  unnatural 
excitement. 

"I'm  awfully  sorry  to  trouble  you, 
old  man,"  he  said.  "It's  a  shame  to 
break  up  your  work  right  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  day,  but  I  guess  you'll 
have  to  come  to  the  rescue." 

"What's  the  matter.?"  I  asked. 

"Do  you  mind  coming  up  ?  I 
can't  leave  here  for  an  hour  or  two, 
and  I  simply  can't  talk  over  the 
phone." 

"I'll  be  in  the  Subway  in  three  min- 
utes," said  I.     "Hold  hard  till  I 
get  there." 

With  that  I  hung  up,  told  my 
clerk  I  probably  shouldn't  be 
back  that  morning,  and  started 
up-town.  I'd  have  been  wise,  I 
suppose,  to  put  a  brief  in  my 
pocket  to  read  on  the  way  up — 
something  to  keep  me  from  specu- 
lating and  worrying  about  Jeffrey's 
case  until  I  had  some  data  to  go 
on.  But  I  doubt  if  anything 
could  have  kept  my  mind  off  him. 

Jeffrey  wasn't  one  of  my  oldest 
friends — not  one  of  that  little 
group  of  people  all  of  us  carry 
along  in  diminishing  numbers 
through  life  from  boyhood — people 
whose  circumstances  and  relations 
we  know  almost  instinctively;  peo- 
ple whose  world  we  were  Ixjrn  a 
part  of.  Friends  of  this  class  we 
are  apt  to  think  we  know  all  about. 
And,  as  far  as  externals  go,  we  do. 
Really,  we  are  likely  to  know  very 
little  indeed  about  their  interior 
qualities  —  their  soul-machinery — and 
we  live  along  side  by  side  with  them 
for  years,  in  a  state  of  partial  or  some- 
times total  misunderstanding. 

The  friendship  between  Jeffrey  and 
me  was  the  other  sort.  We  were  both 
grown-up  men  when  we  first  laid  eyes 
on  each  other,  and  the  thing  that  made 
our  friendship  was  a  sort  of  instinctive 
sympathy — a  mutual  ability  to  under- 
stand each  other — that  had  carried  us 
across  all  the  preliminaries  of  mere 
acquaintance  in  one  jump. 

The  result  of  this  was  that,  so  far 
as  externals  went,  we  knew  relatively 
little  about  each  other.  It  had  never 
seemed  worth  while  to  stop  to  tell, 
when  there  were  so  many  more  import- 
ant and  interesting  things  to  talk 
about.  Jeffrey,  I  was  sure,  couldn't 
have  furnished  a  would-l)c  biographer 
with    any    connected    account    of    my 


existence  previous  to  our  meeting  three 
or  four  years  ago,  and  I  was  in  the  same 
case  with  him. 

I  knew  he  was  a  brilliantly  success- 
ful portrait-painter;  I  knew,  in  a  frag- 
mentary way,  that  as  a  very  young 
man  he  had  supported  himself  as  a 
newspaper  artist.  I  knew  he  had  a 
perfectly  enormous  list  of  casual  ac- 
quaintances— people  from  every  walk 
of  life,  'way  down  to  the  very  lowest 
strata  of  the  underworld. 

I  have  described  him  heretofore  as 
a  man  of  pure  genius — a  man  who  re- 
lied, further  than  any  one  else  I  have 
ever  known,  on  a  queer  set  of  intui- 
tions that  seemed  to  begin  where  ordin- 
nary  logical  processes  of  thought  left 
off.  He  claimed,  you  may  remember, 
a  special  extra  sense  for  crime;  said 
he  could  detect  crime  on  a  man's  soul 
as  easily  as  I  could  detect  whisky  on 
his  breath. 

It  was  a  perfectly  unbelievable  claim, 


'I  COT  EIGHTEEN  DOLLARS  FOR  IT.  TO  GIVE  TO  THOSB  LEECHES. 
YOU  CAN  PROSBCUTB  AND  BE  DAMNEO" 

of  bourse,  and  I  should  have  treated 
it  as  fanciful,  except  for  the  uncanny 
demonstration  of  it  which  he  had  given 
in  our  own  mystery — the  mystery  of 
Dr.  Marshall  and  the  Whispering  Man. 
Jeffrey  had  solved  that  and  had  done 
it,  so  far  as  any  of  us  could  see,  by  the 
exercise  of  this  same  sheer  intuition, 
which  he  claimed.  Either  by  that  or 
by  the  blindest  luck  in  the  world. 
And  in  doing  so  he  had  saved  Gwen- 
dolyn's life. 

In  a  word,  I  knew  the  man  himself 
as  intimately,  pt>rhaps,  as  I  knew  any 
one  in  the  world,  except  Madeline. 
But  about  his.history  I  knew  nothing. 
I  couldn't  even  have  sworn  that  he 
had  no  brothers  or  sisters,  though  I 
had  never  heard  of  any.  A  perfect 
stranger  might  have  rome  to  me  and 
told  me  any  sort  of  weird  or  tragic 
adventure  as  having  belonged  to  Jef- 


frey's past  somewhere,  and  I  couldn't 
have  contradicted  him. 

I  did  know  this  though:  he  was  the 
sort  of  person  adventures  happen  to — 
imaginative,  possessed  occasionally  by 
powerful  impulses;  full  of  that  strange 
quality  we  call,  for  the  lack  of  a  better 
word,  temperament.  Given  the  right 
combination  of  circumstances  and  the 
right  incentive,  and  Jeffrey  might  have 
done  almost  anything. 

So  I  will  have  to  confess  that  as  I 
rode  up-town  on  my  way  to  his  studio, 
knowing  only  that  he  was  in  some 
sudden,  unexpected  difficulty,  my 
thoughts  ran  riot.  I  conjectured  a 
whole  chamber  of  horrors  about  him 
— terrible  hands  reaching  out  of  that 
blank  past  of  his  and  snatching  at  him. 
I'd  have  said,  when  I  knocked  at  his 
studio  door,  that  nothing  I  could  find 
on  the  other  side  of  it  would  surprise 
me. 

But  what  I  did  find  did  surprise  me, 
and  that  was  nothing — nothing 
out  of  the  ordinary,  I  mean. 
There  was  no  veiled  lady  in  black, 
looming  tragically  in  a  dark  corner; 
no  mysterious  communication;  no 
spot — oh,  I  had  been  ready  for 
anything  ! — of  blood  on  the  studio 
floor.  Simply  everything  as  I 
had  always  seen  it,  and  Jeffrey 
himself — quite  his  old  self,  smil- 
ing apologetically  and  holding  out 
his  hand  to  me. 

"I  telephoned  you  not  to  come," 
he  said,  "but  you  had  already 
started.  I  was  too  late.  I'm 
dreadfully  sorry.  There's  nothing 
the  matter — nothing  that  an  hour 
or  two  won't  set  right.  And  I 
really  don't  need  you  a  bit. 
Only,  if  you've  got  the  leisure, 
I'd  be  awfully  glad  to  have  you 
stay." 

"Well,  but  what  was  it?"  I  gasp- 
ed.   "What  did  you  think  it  was?" 
Jeffrey    didn't    answer    for     a 
second  or  two. 
"You  remember  that  portrait  I  was 
telling  you  about  last  night,"  he  asked 
— "the  thing  I  painted  from  a  photo- 
graph for— Miss  Meredith  ?" 

I  nodded,  but  Jeffrey  wasn't  looking 
at  me,  so  after  a  moment  of  silence 
I  said.  "Yes." 

He  brought  himself  up  with  a  little 
start.  "Well,  when  I  came  to  the 
studio  this  morning,  I  found  it  gone. 
I  thought  at  first  that  Miss  Meredith 
might  have  taken  it  with  her  the  day 
she  came  to  the  studio  to  look  at  it — 
I  haven't  been  liack  in  the  place  since. 
"Of  course  that  would  have  been 
an  awfully  funny  thing  for  her  to  do; 
but  she's  eccentric,  they  say,  so  I  asked 
my  Jap  boy  about  it.  He  said  no, 
that  didn't  happen.  They  went  away 
and  left  it  just  as  it  was  on  the  easel. 
So  it  was  p«'rfectly  plain  that  the  thing 
had  been  stolen. 


404 

"It  seemed  such  a  queer,  inexplica- 
ble thing  for  any  one  to  steal,  that  I 
was  a  little  bit  upset  about  it.  So  I 
called  on  you  for  first  aid,  as  I  am 
afraid  I  have  got  the  bad  habit  of 
doing.  But  afterward  I  got  a  clue 
that  suggested  a  ijcrfectly  plain  ex- 
planation. I  think  I'll  have  the  thing 
back  before  noon.  It's  all  right,  you 
see.  I'm  frightfully  ashamed  of  my- 
self   for    having    troubled    you    with 


CANADA  MONTLHY 

Still  he  wasn't  looking  at  me,  and  I 
stared  at  his  inexpressive  back  in  per- 
fectly blank  amazement — amazement 
that  had,  I'll  admit,  a  little  flavor  of 
indignation  in  it. 

He  had  given  me  a  very  bad  quarter 
of  an  hour,  and  his  exjilanation  of  it 
seemed  absolutely  childish.  Was  the 
loss  of  a  portrait — a  thing  that  couldn't 
mean  more  than  two  weeks'  work  to 
his  facile  brush — an  adequate  explana- 
tion  for  that  broken   cry  of  distress 


I  had  heard  over  the  telephone  ?     The 
thing  was  preposterous  ! 

Then  I  remembered  his  manner  at 
the  house  last  night;  the  little  shiver 
with  which  he  had  spoken  of  dead 
faces,  and  how  they  were  getting  on 
his  nerves;  the  impatient  jerk  of  his 
head  that  had  accompanied  Jack's 
jocular  remark  about  a  spirit-portrait, 
and,  last  of  all,  the  thing  he  had  said 
just  as  he  was  going  out  the  door. 
Continued  on  page  458. 


Washing  Behind  Toronto's  Ears 


WHEREIN  THE  DIRTIEST,  MOST  PICTURESQUE  AND  MOST  SQUALID 

DISTRICT   THAT  TORONTO   EVER  SHIVERED  AT  AND 

LIED'  ABOUT  AND  TOOK  RENTS  FROM 

LEARNS  HOW  TO  SPELL  S-O-A-P 


CLEANLINESS  is  next  to  god- 
liness. This  means  that, 
nationally,  you  get  to  it  first. 
Having  attained  and  passed 
on,  the  body  politic  reaches  back  to 
secure  the  newly-arrived  immigrant, 
taking  him  firmly  by  the  scruff  of  the 
neck  and  putting  him  under  the  pump 
as  a  preliminary  measure  to  turning 
him  over  to  the  forces  that  make  for 
righteousness.  If  it  be  a  wise  body 
politic,  it  also  sees  to  it  that  the 
cleansing  process  is  accomplished  by 
an  expert  in  godliness  who  will  need 
all  his  stock  in  trade. 

Three  years  ago  in  Toronto,  Dr. 
Hastings,  newly  appointed  and  for- 
ever after  zealous  Medical  Health 
Officer,  summoned  into  his  ofiice  a 
little  woman  who  had  been  laboring 
to  inculcate  the  Catechism,  pinned  a 
badge  on  her  and  told  her  to  go  out 
and  clean  up  the  Ward.    ■ 

Behind  her,  at  that  time,  there  was 
no  police  authority,  likewise  no  pre- 
decessor to  consult,  and  the  warlike 
doctor  was  already  charging  off  after 
the  milkdealers,  so  she  couldn't 
question  him.  Before  her  was  the 
dirtiest,  most  picturesque,  most  incon- 
ceivably squalid  one-storey-shack 
district  that  Toronto  has  ever  shivered 
at  and  lied  about  and  taken  rents 
from. 

"Go,"  said  the  doctor  to  the  little 
grey  lady,  "go  and  clean  it  up." 

There  was  just  one  circumstance 
that  favored  the  solitary  invader. 
Goliath,  many-tongued,  voluble,  dirt- 


By  Betty  D.  Thornley 

Illustrated  by  Marion  Long 


ELIJAH.  WHO  SLICED  CUCUMBERS,  WAS  AS  CLEAN  AS 
A  WHITE  APRON  COULD  MAKE  HIM 

collecting  giant,  was  lazy  and  lovable, 
half  Jew,  half  Italian. 

But  David — lord  love  you,  why 
David  was — IrisM 

There  were  1,200  houses  in  the 
Ward  with  2,300  families.  The  latest 
report  gi\es  800  lodging  houses  in  the 
city.  The  Ward  had  and  still  has, 
more  than  its  share,  all  of  them  over- 
crowded. 


But  that  didn't  daunt  the  new- 
Department  of  Municipal  Housekeep- 
ing, as  it  was  called.  And  it  merely 
added  zest  to  the  game  so  far  as  the 
first  woman  Sanitary  Instructor  was 
concerned. 

"Eighty  per  cent,  of  the  back  yards 
were  disgusting,"  she  said,  walking 
down  her  main  thoroughfare  the  other 
day  with  the  reporter  and  a  novice  who 
would  some  time  wear  a  counterpart  of 
her  own  bright  badge.  "I  remember 
one  of  them — you  know  what  they're 
like,  handkerchief-size — that  hadn't 
been  cleaned  in  eight  years.  The 
tenant  said  so.  He  said  too  that  he'd 
be — er — blamed  if    he'd    begin    now." 

The  Inspector  got  him  a  shovel 
from  his  own  shed.  She  put  it  into 
his  hands.  Then,  very  softly,  she 
suggested  that  he  begin.  There  was 
all-LTlster-let-loose,  which  is  to  say 
\'esuvius-just-about-to  in  the  mild 
tones  that  used  to  raise  "Sweet  Hour 
of  Prayer"  down  home  in  the  Mission. 
Wherefore  Sammy  froze  onto  the  shov- 
el-handle till  he'd  removed  the  worst 
of  it,  after  which  Rachel  turned  to 
and  did  the  rest. 

Sarah  next  door  conducted  a  lodging 
house  for  more  than  humans.  She 
was  told  to  wash  her  woodwork  and 
kerosene  same  till  the  Inspector  said 
when. 

"Wash  the  woodwork?"  said  Sarah 
in  crescendo,  "The  landlord  he  don't 
tell  me  so.  I  ain't  no  right  till  he  says 
I  should." 

"Oh   yes,   you   have,"   said   the   In- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


405 


sp)ector.  "Put  on  the  boiler  and 
do  it  now." 

"But  the  chickens  were  the  worst," 
the  reporter  was  told,  "F^verybody 
in  the  Ward  used  to  keep  them  and, 
as  they  had  next  to  no  yards,  they 
kept  them  in  the  house." 

Mrs.  Damm  had  evolved  a  novel 
and  useful  little  coop  by  means  of 
moscjuito  netting  applied  to  the  legs 
of  her  kitchen  table.  She  was  grieved 
to  the  heart  that  the  Health  Lady 
didn't  approve.  But  she  would  sub- 
mit,    oh  yes. 

Mrs.  Michclena  owned  an  unheard 
of,  not  to  say  almost  unholy,  luxury 
in  the  shape  of  a  porcelain  bathtub. 
Instead  of  keeping  coal  in  it,  as  other 
Ward  tub-owners  did,  she  kejJt  chick- 
ens. The  advantages  of  the  coop 
were  obvious  and  Tony  was  warlike, 
but  the  Department  of  Municipal 
Housekeeping  came  out  on  top,  and 
Peggy  Plymouthrock  and  Orpie  Or- 
pington were  banished  to  the  back 
yard. 

The  next  week,  the  Inspector  re- 
inspected  Mrs.  Damm. 

"No  chicken — no  chicken,"  said 
Mrs.  D.,with  a  too-guileless  certitude. 

"Yes,  chicken,"  said  the  Law  firmly. 

Search  having  been  instituted,  it 
became  evident  that  the  mosquito 
netting  had  been  transferred  aloft 
and  now  decorated  the  understructure 
of  the  family  bed. 

"I  reached  in  with  a  broom,"  said 
the  Inspector,  memories  of  the  war 
kindling  in  her  eye,  "and  I  shoo'd  out 
eleven  chickens.     And  one  duck." 

"Did  you  ever  have  trouble  with 
livestock  other  than  chickens?" 


"Oh  yes,  with 
horses.  I  had  to 
send  one  man  to 
court,  later  on 
when  I  had  the 
right,  because  he 
would'  persist  in 
keeping  the  horse 
in  his  kitchen." 

But,  as  Kipling 
says,  that's  all 
"long  ago — and 
fur  away."  It's 
three  years  dis- 
tant, three  hard- 
fought  years  of 
smiles  and  sum- 
monses, of  battle 
at  the  front  door 
and  help  at  the 
back,  a  truly  Irish, 
Aprilesque  sort  of 
warfare  that  has 
ended  in  tying  all 
the  Mrs.  Damms 
and  the  Mrs. 
Michelenas  tight 
up  to  the  chariot 
wheels  of  their 
tyrant. 

"Missis,"  said 
the  Inspector,  in- 
terrupting her 
monologue  to  the 
reporter  and  mak- 
ing a  dive  into 
the  many-colored 
depths  of  an  Italian 
fruit  store,  "grapes 
not  covered, 
peaches  not  cov- 
ered." 


"NO  CHICKKN  ! 


MO  CHICKRN  I"    SAID  MHS.  I>AMM,  wrTH  A    IIJO-GI'II.ELKSS  CKHIIT" 'KK. 
*AIO  TM«  LAW,  PIRMI-Y,  A.NII  KCACHKO  FOR  THC  BROOM 


THAT  WILV  DELII.AII  IROM  DKRRY  SlMMONim  TMK  VIRTUOUS  WOMEN  OUT  OF 
ISRAKI.  AND  ITALY  TO  COME  AND  GAZE  ON  THE  CAN 

Like  a  naughty  child,  caught  but 
repentant,  Teresina  produced  a  length 
of  cerise  netting.  The  Inspector 
helped    her   spread    it.     Both    smiled. 

"They're  pretty  good  about  it," 
said  the  Law,  "I  have  charge  of  all 
the  shops  and  stands  and  pushcarts 
in  the  Ward  and  I  don't  have  much 
trouble.    But  to  go  back  to  our  story — " 

No,  not  yet,  for  here  was  Mr. 
Achilles  Popodopulous,  hands  out  in 
front  of  his  restaurant.  VV'ould  not 
the  Health  Lady  come  in?  Also  tlie 
Health  Lady's  lady  friends?  He  had 
so  clean — so-o-n  clean — tables,  kit- 
chen, dishes — 

The  cortege  swejn  in.  It  was  even 
as  its  owner  had  a.sscrted,  and  it  would 
be  hard  to  tell  who  was  the  more  pleas- 
ed, the  La\v  that  had  commanded  or 
the  liegeman  who  had  obeyed. 

.\  Chine.se  rabbit-warren  across  the 
load  was  similarly  satisfactory. 

"Tlicy  can  fool  my  eyes  Mune- 
tinies,"  said  the  Inspector,  "but  they 
can't  fool  my  nose.  And  this  place 
is  clean.  They  say  they  play  fantan 
here  and  smoke  opium.  I  hope  not, 
but  of  course  that  isn't  my  business. 
I'm  here  to  clean  them  up." 


\  I  ^.    <  UK  kP 


406 

And  cleaned  up  they  were,  straight 
through  to  the  queerly-scented  kitchen 
where  the  slit-eyed  Orient  sat  and 
peeled  potatoes  in  the  half  light  and 
doubtless  commented  on  the  new  in- 
spectors that  their  High  Chief  Sapol- 
iolene  had  in   tow. 

The  second  of  these  now  left  us  to 
begin  her  first  tour  alone,  while  the 
Inspector  went  back  to  her  tales  of 
former  times. 

"Well,  I  got  them  fairly  clean  at 
the  end  of  that  first  year,"  she  said, 
"garbage  in  the  street  to  be  collected, 
all  covered  up.  And  then  what  does 
the  Department  do  but  demand  gar- 
bage cans!" 

You  can  imagine  the  dismay  in 
Jewry.  It  was  bad  enough  to  sacri- 
fice a  might-be-good  box  to  put  the 
waste  in,  but  to  go  down  to  the  store 
and  buy — yes,  BUY — a  real,  new, 
money -costing  tin  and  put  it  out  in 
the  road  where  anyone  might  steal 
it — why,  the  woman  was  crazy. 

"I  couldn't  sleep,"said  the  Inspector. 
"If    I    did    I    dreamed    of     garbage 


CANAPA  MONTHLY 

cans,  rows  and  rows  and  rows  of  them  on 
Centre  Avenue.  I'd  rather  have  had 
them  than  a  diamond  necklace,  and 
it  seemed  to  me  I  ran  an  even  less 
chance  of  getting  them." 

Then  it  was  that  the  Department's 
choice  of  an  Irishwoman-  was '  most 
blazingly  vindicated. 

"There  was  a  woman  on  Chestnut 
Street  who — well,  she  was  Irish  too, 
I'm  sorry  to  say — but  of  course  none 
of  the  synagogue  ladies  would  have 
associated  with  her  anyhow.  I  went 
and  asked  her  if  she'd  do  me  a  favor 
and,  'Lord  love  you,  yes,'  she  said. 
So  I  told  her  to  send  to  Queen  Street 
and  buy  a  garbage  can  and  put  it  out 
next  morning. 

"I  was  so  afraid  she  wouldn't  that 
I  hardly  slept.  First  thing  I  was  out 
to  see,  and  there  it  was,  and  say,  it 
looked  good  to  me!" 

Then  what  did  this  wily  Delilah 
from  Derry  go  and  do?  She  summoned 
all  the  virtuous  women  out  of  Israel 
and  Italy  to  come  and  gaze  on  that 
can.     They    wouldn't    associate    with 


the  Chestnut  Avenue  lady — oh  no — 
but  see,  she  knew  enough  to  obey  the 
Health  Department,  she  had  a  garbage 
can  fominst  her  front  gate.  For 
shame!     For  shame! 

After  that,  the  Garbage  Can  be- 
came the  badge  of  up-to-dateness,  not 
demurely  hidden  in  one's  backyard, 
a  la  Rosedale,  but  flaunted  to  an 
admiring  world,  to  show  that  its  pur- 
chaser and  behind-the-blind  watcher 
had  "arrived." 

"Of  course  they  lapsed  once  in  a 
while,"  said  the  tactician,  "some  of 
them  I'd  find  had  the  can  in  the  house 
for  a  bread'  box  or  a  refrigerator. 
Once,  a  woman  had  made  the  rounds 
of  the  charitable  organizations  and 
got  it  filled  with  rolled  oats.  Another 
one  did  her  washing  in  it.  But  each 
time  I'd  dump  everything  out,  fill  it 
with  real  garbage,  and  scold  so  hard 
they  just  had  to  do  the  right  thing." 

A  quick  turn  into  a  house  punctu- 
ated the  tale  just  here. 

"Missis,  where  is  your  can?"  said 
Continued  on  page  426. 


The  Wall-flower 


HER  LOVER,  THE  BUTCHER,  HER  LOVER. 
THE  GROOM,  AND  HER  TREASURE,  THE 
WALL-FLOWER,  PLAY  HOB  WITH  CICELY 

By  Mary  Leslie 


"Revenge  is  a  wild  kind  of  justice." 

Lord  Bacon. 

READER,  if  it  is  your  luckless 
lot  only  to  have  seen  a  wall- 
flower in  Canada  in  a  pot, 
struggling  feebly  for  existence, 
scraggy  and  forlorn,  sending  forth 
with  difficulty  a  few  sweet  stunted 
blossoms,  you  can  have  no  idea  of  the 
grandeur  and  wonderful  attractiveness 
of  the  plant  in  perfection.  See  it  grow- 
ing wild  at  its  own  sweet  will  on  a 
ruined  castle  wall  in  England;  clenched 
in  between  stones  and  mortar,  nour'sh- 
ed  from  beneath  by  twenty  feet  of 
rotten  wood,  the  decay  of  centuries; 
glimpse  it  standing  from  five  to  seven 
feet  high,  tossing  its  long  trailing 
branches  of  delicious  scent  abroad, 
as  the  wind  stirs  it,  the  soft  velvet 
flowers  from  half  a  yard  to  a  yard  long; 
or  meet  a  wagon  load  of  them,  coming 
into  Covent  Garden  Market  at  sunrise, 
odorous  and  fragrant,  scenting  the 
quiet  street  as  they  jog  along,  and 
you  see  one  of  the  most  beautiful  free 
sights  of  old  England. 


They  are  of  all  shades  ranging  from 
yellow  to  dark  golden  brown,  with 
the  richest  possible  colors  in  purple, 
with  a  charm  all  their  own  whether 
single  or  double,  and  a  scent  belonging 
to  no  other  flower. 

Old  maids  are  sometimes  called 
"wall  flowers"  in  derision.  I  wish 
every  old  maid  in  Canada  could  see 
wall  flowers  as  I  have  seen  them,  and 
the  name  would  be  an  inspiration  to 
them. 

The  maiden  who  owned  the  particu- 
lar wall-flower  of  which  I  write  was 
called  "little"  Cicely  Cockle,  from  her 
undersize,  and  the  great  height  and 
breadth  of  her  mother,  who  bore  the 
same  name.  She  dwelt  in  the  village 
of  Ogg,  Wilts,  just  one  hundred  years 
ago.  Ogg  has  another  syllable  to  its 
name,  which  I  drop  as  superfluous, 
but  it  was  at  that  time  a  notable 
village,  in  fact  there  are  two  villages 
of  the  same  name,  a  mile  apart,  dis- 
tinguished by  their  churches.  One  is 
called  Ogg  St.  George — haying  at  the 
beginning  of  the  last  century,  a  fine 
chime  of  bells,  and  twelve  paid  ring- 


ers— the  other  village  is  Ogg  St. 
Andrew.  They  were  sometimes  called 
Saint  Ogg,  which  is  absurd,  for  Ogg 
was  no  saint  as  every  Bible  student 
knows.  Little  Cicely  belonged  to  the 
Parish  of  Ogg  St.  George — pronounced 
"Jarge"  by  the  Wiltshire  people — 
and  she  was  just  fourteen  years  old 
when  she  went  to  live  with  Miss  Kem, 
and  wait  on  her.  She  was  small  and 
slight  and  not  very  pretty,  but  light 
on  the  foot  and  bright  and  capable. 
Miss  Kem  was  the  daughter  of  a 
farmer  who  owned  his  land,  and  be- 
queathed it  to  his  son  Richard,  and 
she  had  kept  house  for  her  brother 
for  forty  years,  when — for  as  Miss 
Kem  remarked  "you  never  know  what 
a  man  will  do  next" — suddenly,  to  the 
surprise  of  everybody  but  himself,  he 
married.  He  had  been  turning  the 
thing  over  in  his  mind  for  a  long  time 
and  knew  just  exactly  when  he  would 
do  it,  and  that  time  was  when  the  lease 
was  out,  of  a  cottage  left  to  Miss  Kem 
by  her  father,  in  the  village  of  St. 
Ogg.  He  had  been  preparing  his 
sister  by  hints  of  the  coming  event  for 


a  good  while,  and  though  that  lady 
declared  that  when  she  first  realized 
it,  she  "felt  like  a  beetle  thrown  on  its 
back",  she  soon  regained  her  balance, 
and  came  right  side  up.  She  reflected 
that  Richard  was  of  age,  being  turned 
sixty,  that  she  herself  was  on  the 
wrong  side  of  seventy,  and  that  she 
had  lately  thought  that  the  manage- 
ment of  the  dairy  and  farm  servants 
was  "over  much"  for  her;  that  she 
had  recei\ed  the  rent  of  her  cottage 
for  forty  years,  and  had  laid  by  "a 
nest  egg",  and  what  she  had  spent  was 
on  good  bed  linen,  table  linen,  and 
body  linen,  marked  with  her  own 
name  in  full.  She  remembered  that 
she  had  her  mother's  set  of  china, 
without  one  piece  broken,  and  called 
to  mind  some  good  furniture  in  oak 
and  walnut,  left  her  by  a  maiden  aunt, 
and  stored  for  many  years;  so  she 
retired  gracefully  after  the  wedding 
feast.  Before  that  event  little  Cicely 
had  been  engaged  at  two  pounds  a 
year,  tvvo  new  frocks,  one  for  summer, 
and  one  for  winter  (which  was  equiv- 
alent to  another  pound,  for  print  was 
a  shilling  sterling  a  yard  in  those  days), 
four  print  aprons  a  year,  two  white 
caps,  and  "perquisites",  which  being 
interpreted  meant  sixpenny  favors 
from  Miss  Kem's  visitors.  Also,  of 
course,  her  board. 

The  cottage  had  been  thoroughly 
cleaned,  the  lawn  cut,  rolled,  swept; 
the  furniture  brought  out  of  hiding 
and  after  being  rubbed  as  bright  as 
hands  could  make  it,  conveyed  care- 
fully in  great  farm  wagons  to  the 
cottage.  The  parlour  and  kitchen 
grates  were  polishe<i,  the  fires  laid 
ready  for  lighting,  the  tinder-box  in 
its  place,  and  little  Cicely  notified  to 
meet  her  mistress  on  her  arrival. 

Ogg  had  one  long  street;  at  one  end 
stood  the  house  of  Mr.  John  Griffin, 
a  brick  residence,  with  twenty-four 
rooms  in  it,  and  a  magnificent  row  of 
elms  at  the  foot  of  the  orchard,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  street,  on  the  opposite 
side,  Miss  Kem's  cottage  was  the  last 
house  in  the  village.  It  was  also  of 
red  brick  with  a  freshly  thatched  roof — 
and  a  good  thatch  is  supposed  to  last 
twenty  years — over-shadowed  on  one 
side  by  an  enormous  elm,  which  flour- 
ished in  the  street  with  a  seat  around 
its  trunk.  That  part  of  the  country 
was,  and  still  is,  famous  for  elms;  they 
are  scattered  alx)ut  singly  or  in  groups, 
here  and  there  and  everywhere;  in 
fields  afar  off,  in  pastures  near. 

Miss  Kem's  cottage  had  four  rooms 
downstairs  and  one  up,  with  a  peaked 
window  over  the  front  door;  and  in 
that  room  Cicely  slept.  Miss  Kem's 
bedrfx)m  was  downstairs  at  the  back 
of  the  parlor,  with  a  very  large  four 
post  bed  in  it,  with  gay  chintz  cur- 
tains. There  were  three  fireplaces 
in  the  house,  two  cellars,  one  for  wine 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

and  ale,  and  one  for  coal,  and  a  pantry, 
which  with  the  dining  room  and 
kitchen  completed  the  establishment. 
Cicely,  whose  people  were  the  poorest 
of  the  poor,  regarded  this  cottage  as 
a  magnificent  and  lordly  residence, 
and  swelled  with  pride  at  the  thought 
of  living  in  it.  She  kept  the  windows 
as  bright  as  diamonds,  she  burnished 
the  brass  fender,  the  knocker,  and  the 
plate  with  the  name  "Kem"  on  it  till 
they  all  shone  like  gold,  and  by  her 
energy,  immaculate  neatness  and  good 
service,  soon  made  the  little  home  a 
place  of  beauty  and  very  attractive 
to  passers-by.  There  was  not  much 
land  about  it,  just  a  small  green  lawn 
in  front  and  a  bleaching  ground  at  the 
back,  kept  in  beautiful  order  by  Cicely's 
shears,  sickle,  broom  and  roller,  with 
no  flower  on  the  place  but  the;  wall- 
flower. 

Between  Miss  Kem's  and  Mr. 
Griffin's  were  many  houses,  the  most 
notable  being  the  village  inn,  opposite 
to  a  large  pond,  where  the  lads  and 
lassies  went  to  slide  in  the  winter 
and  play  "thread  the  long  needle"; 
and  beside  it  a  four  acre  field  enclosed 
by  a  low  brick  wall,  where  the  boys 
played  football  nearly  all  the  year 
round.  It  was  called  "the  Landy"  • 
and  had  been  left  one  hundred  years 
before  to  the  village  lads  as  a  posses- 
sion so  long  as  they  played  a  game  of 
football  on  the  first  of  March  every 
year.     I  believe  they  hold  it  yet. 

At  the  further  end  of  the  village 
stood  the  Stocks,  a  structure  for  the 
"punishment  and  reformation  of  scolds 
and  quarrelsome  topers",  as  stated 
in  an  inscription  upon  it.  It  was  in 
the  shade  of  a  great  tree,  and  senti- 
mental people  had  been  known  to  sit 
on  it  and  read  poetry. 

St.  George's  Church  was  opposite 
to  Mr.  Griffin's  house,  surrounded  by 
a  large  churchyard,  where  sheep  and 
lambs  grazed  peacefully  among  the 
tombs  the  summer  through.  The 
clergyman  was  not  resident,  and  a 
curate  did  duty  for  both  parishes, 
Miss  Masculin,  an  old  Methodist 
lady,  occupying  the  Parsonage  at  a 
rental  of  one  hundred  pounds  a  year. 
She  was  the  good  fairy  of  the  neighbor- 
hood. She  taught  the  children 
Wesley's  hymns  and  part  singing;  she 
taught  them  the  church  catechism, 
and  read  the  Scriptures  in  a  weekly 
Bible  class  to  such  as  were  willing  to 
hear  her.  It  was  she  who  taught  a 
poor  crippled  lad  to  get  his  own  living, 
by  knitting  mittens  and  stockings  and 
making  straw  bee-hives.  By  these 
industries  he  paid  his  way  from  twelve 
years  old  to  eighty,  leaving  a  small 
fund  for  his  funeral.  It  was  she  who 
distributed  garden  seeds,  and  monthly 
roses  for  prizes  to  the  best  readers  and 
singers  among  the  children,  according 
to  merit.     It  was  she  who  took  every 


407 

boy  and  girl  in  the  village  on  a  "gipsy- 
ing  party" — we  would  call  it  a  picnic 
now — to  Malborough  forest,  defraying 
all  charges,  and  giving  each  one  a 
token  to  mark  the  event.  Cicely 
Cockle's  token  was  the  root  of  the 
wall-flower,  torn  up  by  Miss  Masculin 
from  the  ruins  of  Wolf  Hall,  and  tied 
in  a  linen  handerchief,  which  Cicely 
cherished  all  her  life  long.  Wolf  Hall, 
once  a  fine  mansion  where  King  Henry 
the  Eighth  married  Jane  Seymour — 
though  that  is  neither  here  not  there — 
was  a  mere  ruck  of  stones  gay  with 
wild  flowers;  and  there  in  the  great 
grass  grown  court  Miss  Masculin 
had  the  hampers  unpacked,  superin- 
tended the  boiling  of  the  kettles,  and 
feasted  over  fifty  young  rustics  in  a 
never-to-be-forgotten  happy  day;  but 
this  is  a  digression. 

Between  Mr.  Griffin's  house  and 
Miss  Kem's  were  twenty  houses  of  all 
sorts  and  sizes;  mostly  thatched,  and 
very  neat  and  decent  in  exterior,  with 
little  gardens  about  them.  There  was 
the  village  smithy  with  a  grand  garden 
for  size,  and  the  best  currants  for  miles 
round,  and  bits  of  cots,  where  the 
sweet  Williams  and  larkspurs  grew 
among  the  potatoes  with  not  a  weed 
to  mar  the  effect.  Ogg  was  a  place 
where  every  one  made  the  best  and 
most  of  what  they  had,  taking  a  pride 
in  their  possessions,  but  the  greatest 
floral  treasure  in  the  village  was  Cicely's 
wall-flower  in  its  sixth  year.  Every- 
body spoke  of  it  with  pride  and  admira- 
tion. The  Kem  cottage  was  fifteen 
feet  high,  and  in  its  sixth  year,  that 
wall-flower  was  over  the  top  of  it, 
and  high  above  the  peaked  window 
where  Cicely  slept.  It  had  hardened 
from  a  small  frail  plant,  into  two 
strong  tough  wooden  stems  like  little 
trees,  and  from  them  threw  out  its 
branches  laden  with  sweet  flowers  in 
all  directions.  Cicely  nailed  it  to  the 
wall  with  leather  straps,  as  it  advanced 
in  size.  When  she  brought  it  there  it 
had  blossomed  once,  but  on  one  side 
only,  dark  reddish  purple  flowers, 
powdered  with  gold, — and  Miss  Kem 
advised  Cicely  to  break  off  the  strong 
branch  which  bore  no  buds,  and  plant 
it  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  door. 
When  that  bloomed  it  was  a  golden 
brown.  As  it  progressed  all  the  village 
grew  proud  of  it  and  people  scenting 
it  afar  off,  came  to  see  it  from  far  and 
near,  pausing  and  lingering  as  they 
passed,  or  sitting  under  the  great  elm 
for  a  while  to  enjoy  its  sweetness  and 
glory,  and  talk  it  over.  Sir  Francis 
Burdette,  one  of  the  members  of  the 
County,  riding  by,  bcgge<l  a  sprig  of 
it  for  his  button-hole,  and  gave  Cicely 
a  shilling,  and  the  gentleman  with  him, 
said  "by  George"  he  must  have  one, 
too,  and  gave  her  another;  and  the 
Rector,  who  came  once  a  year  to  look 
Continued  on  page  438. 


HE  INSISTED  ON  COUNTING  HIS  TOES  FREQUENTLY.       HIS 

MOTHER  WAS  SUCH  A  GREEDY  PERSON  THAT  HE 

NEVER  FELT  SURE  THEY  WERE'  ALL  THERE 


THE  baby's  savings  bank  is  an 
excellent  thing.  It  often  saves 
the  grown-ups  from  serious  em- 
barrassment. 
When  Seth  Radford,  Jr.,  was  born, 
Seth  Radford,  Sr.,  had  opened  an 
account  for  him  in  a  small  tin  institu- 
tion, with  a  paid  up  capital  of  $100  and 
with  a  guaranteed  interest  of  1000  per 
cent,  per  annum.  In  exactly  three 
months  there  befell  a  stringency  in  the 
Radford  establishment,  and  while  the 
baby  was  not  looking  the  father 
looted  the  bank.  All  he  left  behind 
was  a  little  note — here's  the  very  note, 
this  is  what  he  wrote: 

"On  demand  I  promise  to  pay 
Seth  Radford,  Jr.,  one  hundred  dollars 
(§100)  Tvith  interest  at  the  rate  of  100  per 
cent,  a  month.      Value  received. 

Seth  Radford,  Sr." 
1 1  was  against  the  law  to  charge  such 
usury,  and  the  baby  was  beginning 
life  like  a  high  financier.  He  would 
certainly  have  been  investigated  and 
sent  to  the  penitentiary  if  the  tran- 
saction had  been  discovered  by  any  of 
the  magazine  sleuths,  and  pointed  out 
to  any  of  the  new  school  of  district 
attorneys. 

Two  months  passed  and  Seth,  Sr., 
had  not  yet  managed  to  repay  the 
infant  Shylock,  except  by  occasionally 
slipping  through  the  slot  in  the  bank 
a  casual  instalment  of  dimes,  quarters 
or  dollar  bills. 

As  for  the  baby,  he  was  apparently 
indifferent  to  the  condition  of  the  loan 
market.  He  never  balanced  his  books ; 
he  never  counted  up  his  petty  cash. 
His  main  interest  in  life  was 
a  small  bunch  of  livestock — ten  pink 
and  chubby  toes.  He  was  a  miser 
with  respect  to  these,  and  seemed 
always  afraid  that  one  of  them  would 
get    lost.     Besides,    his    mother    was 

408 


Wild  Wells 

BEING  THE  STORY  OF  A  LITTLE  TIN  BANK,  SEVERAL 

GREASY    MORE-OR-LESS    GOLCONDAS.    AND 

SETH  JUNIOR'S  TEN  PINK  TOES 

By  Rupert  Hughes 

Author  of  "That  Awful  Model,"  "What  Will  People  Say."  etc. 

Illustrated  by  Adolph  Blondheim 
and  Fletcher  Ransom 


constantly  looking  them  over,  and 
threatening  to  bite  them  off;  and  she 
was  such  a  greedy  person  that  he  could 
never  be  quite  sure  of  her. 

The  muffled  rattle  of  the  money  in 
his  bank  made  poor  music  to  Seth,  Jr's, 
flower-like  little  ears.  He  much  pre- 
ferred the  rattle  of  a  real  rattle.  To- 
day, for  the  dozenth  time,  he  pushed 
his  bank  contemptuously  to  the  floor, 
and  returned  to  the  numbering  of  his 
toes.  Seth,  Sr.,  had  already  picked 
up  the  bank  and  restored  it  eleven 
times,,  but  now  the  thud  of  it  caught 
his  attention  from  a  mood  of  deep  blues 
that  even  the  gurgling  google  of  the 
baby  had  not  managed  to  dissipate. 
Fortune  had  been  having  fun  with 
Mr.  Radford.  It  had  played  seesaw 
with  him  for  two  years;  one  month  he 
was  soaring  skywards,  a  rich  youth; 
the  next  month  he  bumped  terra  firma 
— with  the  accent  on  the  firma.  Just 
now  he  was  off  the  plank  entirely, 
flat  on  the  ground,  bruised,  aching; 
and  the  seesaw  board  was  high  out  of 
reach. 

Two  years  before,  he  had  suddenly 
realized  that  he  was  alone.  He  had 
seen  his  mother  laid  in  a  little  grave 
alongside  the  grave  of  his  father. 
The  town  of  his  birth  and  his  youth 
suddenly  ceased  to  mean  home  to  him. 
He  resolved  to  strike  out  into  the 
unknown. 

His  assets  were  a  little  cash,  a  good 
deal  of  curiosity  and  a  fairy-purse  of 
self-renewing  hope.  He  decided  that 
Ontario  was  a  poor  place  to  begin 
small.  Texas  was  its  antipodes,  young, 
big,  not  jaded.  Southwest  he  set  his 
course,  and  arrived  in  Galveston  just 
as  the  Beaumont  oil  fields  burst  Into 
fame  with  all  the  world  amazing 
fury  of  their  own  gushers. 

Young  Radford  knew  less  about  the 
oil  business  than  even  the  Pennsylvania 
experts,  who  came  into  the  field  with 
old  traditions  of  how  to  handle  slow 
streams  of  high-grade  oil.  They  were 
like  trout-fjshers  with  tarpons  on  their 
hooks.     Bankruptcies     and     fortunes 


danced  before  tlie  onlooker's  eyes, 
while  whole  lakes  of  subterrene  grease 
exploded  through  long  pipes,  filled 
the  air  with  hydro-carbonic  typhoons, 
and  settled  on  the  ground  in  unctuous 
rivers  of  unholy  smell.  "Ontario  was 
never  like  this,"  said  Radford,  "but 
it  looks  interesting,  as  well  as  instruc- 
tive." He  hired  himself  out  as  a 
helper  on  a  drilling  rig  to  learn  the 
trade — if  trade  it  was  to  gamble  with 
the  earth's  "innards"  in  such  uncer- 
tain, but  epic  fashion. 

Promotions  were  rapid,  for  derricks 
were  springing  up  as  fast  as  hammers 
could  wed  nail  and  pine.  Before  he 
was   aware   of   it,    Radford,   who   but 


"DO  YOU  RECKON  I  MA'IED  YOU  TO  GET  RID  OF  YOU?" 
INQUIRED  ALICE  DEMURELY*.      "WE'lL  GO  TO 

batson's  prairie" 


yesterday  had  not  known  a  chain-tong 
from  a  fish-tail  drill-bit,  was  invited 
to  take  charge  of  a  brand  new  derrick. 
Then  the  number  of  earthward  sticks 
began  to  gain  on  the  upward  glory. 
People  came  to  ofifer  him  wonderful 
bargains  which  would  make  anybody 
rich  without  doubt,  but  which  the 
present  owners  for  various  ^reasons 
of  health,  family,  etc.,  could  not  stop 
to  develop.  But  Radford  was  born 
in   Ontario.     He  was  not  convinced. 

Beaumont  had  begun  as  a  giant 
mushroom;  it  threatened  to  end  as  a 
toadstool.  Radford  was  glad  he  had 
invested  nothing  more  than  his 
time. 

The  oil  fever  began  to  lag  in  Texas. 
Then  came  a  great  find  at  Sour  Lake. 
There  was  an  overnight  exodus. 
Seth  arrived  among  the  earliest,  on  a 
cow  pony  after  plowing  through 
swamps  at  night.  He  decided  to 
back  his  judgment.  He  bought  a 
little  shoestring  strip  of  ground  before 
the  prices  had  jumped  very  far.  As 
sfx)n  as  the  derrick  was  up,  and  the 
pipe  down,  he  brought  in  a  gusher  so 
i)ig  that  he  could  not  get  tanks  fast 
enough  to  hold  the  oil.  He  saw  liquid 
dollars  belonging  to  him  sliding  away 
by  the  hundreds.  But  most  of  them 
he  managed  to  capture. 

He  named  the  well  the  "Alice" — 
after  a  certain  person. 

The  jirice  of  oil  was  high.  The 
Southern  Pacific  was  using  it  on  the 
engines,    and    the    supply    was    short. 

Factories  began  to  laurn  it  instead 
of  coal.  Before  Radford  quite  realized 
it,  he  was  worth  about  §25,000,  and 
more  bubbling  up  as  last  as  it  could 
climb  out  of  the  ground. 

He  called  him.self  a  genius.  He 
was  a  Koal-oil  King  with  two  K's. 
He  wondered  what  he  should  present 
to  his  native  town — a  library  ? — a 
manual  training  school?  or  a  park  ? 
He  wrote  to  Alice  to  ask  her  advice. 
She  was  a  Galveston  girl.  The  first 
one  he  had  met  after  he  struck  Texas. 
One  was  enough.  It  had  taken  a 
single  l(K)k  from  her  deep,  dark  Texan 
eyes  and  two  words  in  her  mellow 
Sf)uthcrn  speech  to  par;il\'/f  all  Iii-^ 
powers  of  resistance. 

His  heart  looked  no  larih.i  It 
said:  "J'y  suis;  j'y  resle." 

Before  he  had  left  Galveston,  he  had 
partly  persUcided  Alice  to  forgive  him 
for  being  a  Canadian.  At  Beaumont 
he  had  dreamed  of  her,  of  her  Southern 
graces,  her  Southern  subtleties  of  tact 
and  beauty.  Her  every  mannerism 
was  an  angel's  trait.  He  endured 
the  mud,  the  grease,  the  fatigue,  the 
fever,  l)ccau.se  he  hoped  it  would  some 
tlay  bring  him  the  wealth  that  she 
ought  to  have. 

.And  at  Sour  Lake  he  had  $25,000 
of  his  own  and  more  pouring  in. 
He  wrote  her  and  said  : 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"My  Darling  : 
I  can't  live  with- 
out you    any  longer. 
Can    you    love    me  ? 
Will  you  marry  me  ? 
Seth." 

He  haunted  the 
post-office  shack  for 
her  answer.  But  it 
came  by  wire.  Just 
a  "Yes,  yes,  yes." — 
only  three  words,  and 
all  the  other  seven 
left  unused  !  But  he 
forgave  the  extrava- 
gance —  being  rich. 
As  he  turned  to  go 
back  to  his  tent,  he 
walked  so  large  that 
he  touched  only  the 
high  spots.  He  looked 
at  the  sky.  A  mo- 
ment before  it  had 
been  lit  with  stars; 
now  they  were  all 
white  magnolia  blos- 
soms filling  the  wind 
with  a  scented 
whisper  of  "Yes  ves, 
yes." 

A  red  blotch 
caught  his  eye.  The 
moon  was  rising  ? 
No,  an  engine  shack 
was  on  fire,  not  far 
from  his  own  wells. 
Everybody  was 
hurrying  to  quench 
the  flames.  He  ran, 
stumbling,  stumbling, 
trembling,  fearing 
vague  things. 

A  pennant  of  flame  flaunted  out  and 
curled  round  a  derrick.  Blazes  went 
up  it  like  a  thousand  frightened  orioles. 
There  was  a  steeple  of  fire,  spraying 
.  fire  in  all  directions.  There  was  a 
twin  steeple  of  fire — a  third— six — a 
dozen.  The  field  was  ablaze.  The 
very  earth,  reeking  with  oil,  was  fuel. 

Seth  dashed  for  his  own  little  par- 
ish. In  a  red  snow  of  sparks  he  work- 
ed like  a  demon  with  his  men.  They 
banked  slush  and  earth  around  his 
well.  But  a  blast  of  flame  came  across 
the  rising  wind,  wrapped  itself  round 
his  derrick,  slid  up  and  down.  In  a 
few  mad,  roaring  moments,  there  was 
nothing  left  but  ashes,  charretl  stumps, 
twistetl  machinery. 

There  was  no  time  to  sigh.  Seth 
bent  his  efff)rts  to  the  saving  of  other 
wells.  The  fire  could  be  fought  only 
with  mud  and  with  steam.  All  night 
he  worked,  and  late  into  the  next 
evening.  The  next  night  he  slept  on 
the  ground  in  his  grime.  The  morn- 
ing after,  he  woke,  lf)oked  at  the  black 
forest  of  ruined  derricks,  and  said  to 
Poverty : 

"Well,  here  we  are  again." 

He  wrote  to  Alice  the  letter  of  a 


409 


m.  .Mlil    Ills   MtN    KL.N.MNG    IK.VNIIC.VLLV 
AWAY  KROM    TUB    WELL 


brokenhearted  boy  with  a  square  jaw. 
She  answered  him  with  the  pluck  her 
mother  had  shown,  years  before,  when 
a  Yankee  raid  had  left  the  cinders  of 
bankruptcy  where  plenty  had  smiled. 

The  letter  from  Alice  gave  Seth  new 
life.  He  had  somehow  feared  that 
he  had  lost  her  as  well  as  his  fortune. 
She  was  now  all  the  dearer  an  am- 
bition. She  had  been  his  lower  of 
strength — an  ivory  tower  with  black 
hair,    black   eyes  and   very   red   lips. 

He  got  a  job  as  helper  on  another 
rig.  It  kept  him  alive.  By  skimping 
and  scraping  he  saved  a  little — not 
much,  but  something.  Then  there 
came  a  murmured  rumor  that  oil  had 
been  found  at  a  wikl  |>lace  called  Rat- 
son's  Prairie.  Seth  went  to  his  em- 
ployer and  made  a  dicker  with  him 
to  rent  his  rig  and  drill  on  shares,  his 
contribution  being  experience  and  en- 
thusiasm. The  employer  agreed  and 
put  up  the  expenses.  Seth  brought 
in  a  gusher.  He  sold  his  share  for  a 
wad  of  real  money,  and  bought  a 
patch  of  ground  just  big  enough  to 
hold  a  derrick  and  two  gauge  tanks. 
It  was  some  distance  from  the  main 
cluster.     He  made  a  fairly  lucky  strike 


410 

and   bought  a   much   larger   tract  of 
ground. 

He  plunged,  ran  into  debt  mag- 
nificently; everybody  who  knew  him 
trusted  him.  In  a  few  months  he 
had  drilled  three  dry  holes  and  he 
owed  $25,000.  One  small  well  kept 
him  in  living  expenses.  The  fifth 
well  proved  a  greasy  Golconda. 
Twenty  thousand  barrels  a  day  came 
pouring  out  of  that  well.  The  cards 
were  running  his  way.  He  bought  in 
another  well  almost  as  rich.  In  a  few 
weeks  he  was  clear  of  debt  and  $10,000 
to  the  good,  with  ready  money  gushing 
into  his  tanks  day  and  night. 

About  this  time  he  was  writing  a 
long  letter  to  Alice.  Pen  and  ink 
seemed  a  pretty  poor  way — like  tele- 
phoning to  an  angel.  He  threw  down 
the  pen  and  took  train  to  Galveston, 
found  Alice,  persuaded  her  not  to 
tempt  fortune  by  another  delay.  They 
went  as  two  to  a  little  church  and 
came  away  one. 

They  took  their  honeymoon  in 
New  York  at  the  Waldorf-Astoria. 
There  was  something  appallingly  bliss- 
ful about  the  bills.  When  Alice  was 
afraid  to  buy  something  gorgeous, 
Seth  would  say: 

"Listen,  honey;  can  you  hear  the 
gl  uggle-gl  uggle-gl  uggle  ? — that's  the 
oil  coming  out  of  the  ground — every 
four  gluggles  means  a  dollar.  Don't 
be  afraid." 

They  decided  to  run  across  to  Europe. 
Seth  said  that  his  right  hand  man, 
Tom  Dominick,  would  take  care  of 
everything.  He  bought  a  stateroom 
on  a  steamer  sailing  the  next  day. 
Just  as  they  were  leaving  their  suite 
at  the  hotel,  a  page  brought  Seth  a 
telegram  : 

"The  oil  has  quit  gushing;  got  to 
get  air  compressors.  Tom." 

"I  ought  to  be  on  the  spot,"  groaned 
Seth.  "Would  it  break  your  heart, 
dearie,  to  give  up  the  Europe  idea  for 
a  while?  Or  could  you  take  your 
mother  and  let  me  come  over  later, 
when  I  can  ?" 

"Do  you  reckon  I  ma'ied  you  to 
get  rid  of  you  ?"  said  Alice. 

A  week  later  the  newspaper  at 
Batson's  Prairie  announced  in  its 
society  column  : 

"The  popular  oil-producer,  Mr. 
Seth  Radford,  and  his  charming 
bride,  nee  Miss  Alice  Payton,  of 
Galveston,    have    returned    from 
New  York,  and  will  make  their 
sojourn    among    our    elite.     Wel- 
come to  Batson's  Prairie,  Seth  !" 
Now,  gushers  are  free  and  vivacious. 
Pumping  machinery  costs  money  and 
brings   less  oil.     The   pumps  worked 
harder  and  harder,  but  the  flow  grew 
slower — slower — slower;  and  the  price 
of  oil  went  down — down — down.  The 
spirits  of  the  Radfords  followed   the 
price. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"I  don't  exactly  admiah  the  oil 
business,"  said  Alice. 

Gradually  Batson's  Prairie  lost 
prestige.  Seth  bought  more  ground 
and  dug  more  wells.  Sometimes  he 
struck  a  pocket  of  oil  that  only  flattery 
could  call  a  gusher.  He  was  glad 
if  it  managed  to  pay  its  own  cost  be- 
fore it  petered  out.  Sometimes,  after 
weary  work  and  the  encountering  of 
good  omen  after  good  omen  till  hope 
grew  frantic,  there  came  a  time  when 
it  was  plainly  useless  to  drill  furthet — 
and  several  thousand  dollars  had  gone, 
with  nothing  to  show  but  an  empty 
hole  twelve  hundred  feet  deep. 

"I'm  afraid  I  brought  you  bad  luck, 
honey,"  said  Alice. 

"You  are  good  luck  enough  just  by 
yourself,"  Seth  would  answer,  with  all 
the  cheer  he  could  muster. 

After  a  year  they  were  nearly  bank- 
rupt and  the  majority  of  people  had 
left  Batson's  Prairie,  some  with  full 
purses,  some  with  flat.  In  time,  Seth 
realized  that  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  shutdown  the  lazy  wells,  paint  the 
machinery  to  prevent  rust- — and  wait 
for  a  new  field. 

Waiting  is  hard  work,  and  Seth  had 
been  schooled  to  excitement.  Then 
for  a  while  there  came  enough  of  that. 
Two  lives  were  in  danger;  one  dearer 
than  his  own  life,  one  that  was  to  be 
dearer. 

Fortune  favored  them  with  a  smile, 
and,  according  to  the  newspapers, 
"Mother  and  child  were  doing  as  well 
as  could  be  expected."  "Child" 
weighed  ten  pounds,  and  yelled  like  a 
Piute;  and  they  named  him  after  his 
daddy. 

The  amateur  father  and  mother 
used  to  sit  talking  of  the  prospects 
of  their  youngster.  There  was  little 
else  to  do. 

"The  boy  ought  to  have  a  bank," 
said  Seth. 

They  felt  that  they  could  hardly 
begin  it  with  less  than  a  hundred 
dollars.  They  used  to  sit  and  figure 
out  how  much  that  would  amount  to 
at  compound  interest  by  the  time  the 
child  was  old  enough  to  vote.  Alice 
made  it  something  like  three  million 
dollars  but  Seth  said  she  was  "careless 
with  her  noughts."  Still,  even  as 
corrected,  the  sum  was  very  handsome, 
and  they  thought  of  it  whenever  they 
dropped  a  dime  or  a  nickel  into  the 
little  tin  bank.  It  was  a  pleasanter 
thing  to  think  of  than  the  sum  in  their 
own  bank,  for  that  dwindled  daily. 
Often,  when  Seth  was  famished  for  a 
cigar,,  he  pushed  the  money  through 
the  little  tin  slot,  and  smoked  the 
aromatic  weed  of  hope. 

But  the  baby  was  not  many  months 
old  when  the  oil  field  at  Humble  broke 
out.  Seth  rushed  to  the  scene  and 
spent  almost  his  last  cent  in  land. 
He  established  Mrs.  and  Master  Rad- 


ford at  a  hotel  in  Houston,  and  joined 
the  group  of  young  men  who  took  the 
early  morning  train  every  day  to 
Humble  and  returned  at  night,  dirty, 
disheveled  and  tired,  then  washed  up, 
dressed  up  and  marched  into  the 
dining-room  like  gentlemen  and  gilded 
youth,    with    their    handsome    wives. 

Five  big  wells  came  in  while  Seth  was 
drilling.  The  sixth  was  his,  and  a 
gusher.  He  put  a  large  bill  in  the 
baby's  bank. 

In  three  days  the  well  flowed  hot  salt 
water.  No  power  could  save  it.  It 
was  like  finding  a  roll  of  thousand- 
dollar  bills  and  afterward  discovering 
that  they  are  all  counterfeit.  Seth's 
next  well  escaped  and  flowed  proper 
oil  enough  to  put  him  in  funds  for  a 
while.  The  third  began  as  a  million- 
aire-maker and  then  dissolved  into  tears. 

"Saline  injection  will  save  a  dying 
man's  life,"  said  Seth,  "but  it's  sure 
death  to  an  oil  man." 

The  year  had  reached  its  "embers." 
Christmas  was  nearing.  Seth  had 
hoped  to  spend  it  in  the  North,  and  he 
had  told  Alice  a  lot  about  sleigh-riding. 
She  had  never  seen  even  a  sled. 

But  their  plans  were  now  mainly 
conversation,  for  it  was  growing  hard 
even- to  borrow  money.  Some  distant 
relatives  of  Seth's  who  had  heard  of 
him  when  he  was  at  the  Waldorf  redis- 
covered his  existence  and  invited  him 
and  his  family  to  a  house  party.  It 
meant  three,  besides  railroad  fare.  Set 
declined  glumly. 

"We  shall  still  have  each  other, 
honey,"  smiled  Alice. 

"But  we  shan't  have  snow,"  groaned 
the  Northerner.  "I'm  sick  of  roses. 
They  don't  belong  on  the  porch  at 
Christmas.  I  want  a  white  Christmas. 
I'd  give  a  million  dollars  to  hear  sleigh 
bells." 

The  next  well  was  plainly  to  be  his 
last.  He  gave  up  Humble  and  went 
to  a  new  field,  at  Sloper's  X- Roads, 
where  salt  water  had  not  broken  in  to 
corrupt  the  few  wells  that  had  been 
found.  He  exhausted  ever>'  resource 
for  funds.  The  bankers,  when  he  call- 
ed, regretfully  referred  him  to  a  little 
stack  of  notes  unpaid.  Most  of  his 
friends  were  as  near  gone  as  himself. 
He  wheedled  out  of  them  small  sum 
after  small  sum.  He  began  to  pawn, 
but  soon  ran  out  of  pawnables.  He 
owed  his  crew  two  weeks'  wages,  and 
it  was  increasingly  embarrassing  for 
him  to  go  near  the  derrick,  especially 
as  the  drill  had  struck  a  stratum  of 
hard  gypsum.  Sometimes  they  could 
only  make  two  or  three  inches  a  day. 
The  slowness  of  the  work  got  on  the 
nerves  of  the  men.  It  made  them 
thirstj',  and  it  made  them  surly  to  have 
to  borrow  the  price  of  a  drink  from 
another  rig,  when  wages  were  owing  to 
them. 

Continued  on  page  431. 


Interviewing  the  Military 

BEING    AN    ACCOUNT   OF  A    VISIT    TO    THE    MILITIA    BUILDING    IN 
WHICH    THE    CORRESPONDENT    GETS   THE    IRREDUCIBLE 
MINIMUM  OF  INFORMATION.  THE  MAXIMUM  OF 
HUMAN    INTEREST 
AND     SOME      FUN 
OUT  OF  THE  IRRE- 
PRESSIBLE TOMMY 
ATKINS 

By  Madge  Macbeth 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 


"Oh  yes,  it  is." 

"No  !  It's  addressed  to  'His  Excel- 
lency' the  Hon.  Sam  Hughes.  That's 
all  wrong.  I  am  plain  Sam  Hughes. 
No  more,  no  less.  Always  will  be. 
Well  what  do  you  want  ?" 

She  mentioned  a  small  favor  which 
would  occupy  perhaps  three  minutes 
of  the  great  man's  time. 

"Impossible  !"  His  gesture  seemed 
lo  waive  all  responsibility.  "I  haven't 
time  to  eat,  these  days.  Good 
morning." 

She  went  out;  he  followed  her. 
The  elevator  with  a  heavy  load  was 
on  its  way  up.  The  Colonel  stopped 
it,  said,  "Down,  gentlemen," — and 
they  all  went  down,  only  to  start  up 
again  when  the  Minister  was  deposited 
on  the  groimd  floor. 

"If  there  was  many  of  'em,"  said 
a  disgruntled  occupant  of  the  tar, 
"I  wouldn't  get  back  to  the  office  in 
time  to  punch  the  clock  at  ail;  I'd  be 
riding  up  and  down  all  day  !" 

"I  came  to  get  a  little  information — " 

The  Director  of  Artillery  held  up  an 
interrupting  hand. 

"Sorry,"  he  said.  "Must  answer 
this  message." 

He  tlictated  for  a  few  moments,  and 
turned  back  to  the  intcr\iewer. 

" — a  little  information  regarding — " 

The  telephone  rang,  insistently. 

"Excuse    me    a    moment,    please." 

Two  minutes  passed. 

"— alwut— " 

"Yes,  Smith,"  he  turned  away  to 
speak  to  a  young  man  who  had  just 
entered.  "Oh,  yes,  the  horses.  Will 
you  send  these  telegrams  ?  How 
many  ?  Well,  there  will  be  eighteen 
more  tomorrow." 

" — information  as  to  the  number 
of — "  the  interviewer  made  a  record 
sentence  and  was  interrupted  by  the 


LIBUTKNAKT-COLONEL  MORRISON,  DIRSCTOR 
OP  ARTILLERY 

THE  Militia  Building  bristled  with 
cannon  and  guards,  who  passe<:l 
the  reporter  like  a  human  shut- 
tlecock, tossetl  her  about  and 
«et    her    down — outside  ! 

"I  want  to  see  the  Minister,"  she 
said. 

"Is  he  expecting  you  ?"  this  with  a 
very  searching  look. 

Expecting  her,  she  was  handed 
under  bluecoated  supervision  to  the 
elevator,  and  watched  as  she  got  out. 
She  might  be  a  German  spy.  Four 
armed  creatures  leapt  at  her  and  asked 
her  business;  her  name  was  Ixjomcd 
by  a  half  dozen  mouths.  She  was 
escorted  fore  and  aft  into  an  ante 
room.  Men  were  hurrying  and 
scurrying  hither  and  thither  in  a  dizzy- 
ing proces.sion.  Telephones  were  ring- 
ing, papers  were  rustling,  typewriters 
•clicking.  Her  name  was  called  and 
through  a  swinging  baize  dfxjr  she 
was  ushered  into  a  large,  light  apart- 
ment. Even  there  pc<jple  passed  to 
<ind  fro  silently  on  the  heavy  carpet. 
The  Minister  himself  walked  rest- 
lessly aljout,  talking. 

"I  was  instructed  to  hand  you  this 
letter,"  she  .said. 

Col.  the  Hon.  Sam  Hughes  took  it 
and  glanced  over  its  contents. 

"Isn't  for  rne,"  he  said. 


COLONEL  THE  HONORABLE  SAM  HUGHES,  MINISTER 
OF    MILITIA 

entrance  of  another  young  man  carry- 
ing a  telegram. 

"Perhaps  I  had  better  come  back 
again,"  suggested  the  patient  person. 

"Oh,  just  as  you  like.  I  have  as 
much  time  now  as  I  ever  have.  What 
do  you  want  ?" 

"I  want  information  regarding  the 
numbers  of  officers  and — " 

"Excuse  me,  sir,"  said  the  Thirty- 
Third  Interruption,  saluting,"  but  the 
Minister  wants  to  speak  to  you  at 
once." 

Col.  Morrison  rose. 

"Too  bad,"  he  said,  "for  after  that 
I  go  to  lunch — if  I  have  time.  Good 
morning  !" 


Secrets  all  about.  A  fine  mysterious 
atmosphere,  a  .scartnl  feeling  creeping 
down  the  spine.  In  the  Censor's 
office  ! 

Plenty  of  time,  here,  it  seeme<l. 
They  looked  as  though  they  were  just 
reading. 

"Will  >t)u  please  tell  nie,"  a.sked  the 
reporter,  "who  will  ronunaTifi  the 
Canadian  contingent  ?" 

They  excliangetl  secri-(i\f  glances, 
and  a  thrill  quivenxl  in  the  air, 

"If  we  knew  we  would  not  be  allowed 
to  tell  you,"  they  .Siiid. 

"Weil,  may  I  know  what  regiments 

411 


412 

as  units  have  enlisted,  and  how  many 
men  ?" 

"Sorry,  but  we  can't  give  out  that 
.information." 

"Oh  !  Then  may  I  say  that  several 
regiments  as  units  have  volunteered?" 

"Not  unless  you  want  to  make 
mistakes." 

"Ah,  then  no  regiments  as  units  have 
volunteered  ?" 

"On  the  contrary,  but  we  can't  say 
more  than  that." 

"But  what  can  I  say  ?" 

They  gave  it  up. 

"It  is  to  prevent  information  from 
getting  abroad  that  we  are  here," 
they  said,  and  snap  went  their  jaws  in 
a  first  class  imitation  of  an  oyster  shell. 


But  if  you  can't  get  guide-lines  for 
your  canvas  by  interviewing  the  men 
at  the  top,  you  can  squirt  on  local 
color   by    the    tubeful    whenever   you 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

catch  a  glimpse  of  the  rank  and  file. 

Two  of  them  came  in  to  the  photo- 
grapher's shop  together.  With  a  bit 
of  a  swagger  they  went  forward  to  the 
counter  and  asked  to  see  the  picture 
post  cards  taken  at  the  Lansdowne 
Park  camp. 

"But  this  'ere  don't  shaow  the  'ole 
of  us,"  complained  the  tall  one.  "Hi 
was  standin'  roight  besoide  the 
cannon." 

"I  took  all  who  were  there,"  laughed 
the  photographer. 

The  short  one  broke  in. 

"Maybe  you  don't  know  yourself," 
he  suggested.  "Give  '  us  a  look. 
Oh,  s'y  !"  he  cried,  excitedly,  "'ere  I 
am — big  as  liafe;  'ow  much  is  these, 
mister  ?" 

"H'all  roight;  H'i'll  tike  three.  Aw, 
'Enery,  I  got  the  best  of  you,  this 
tiame.     Haw — haw  !" 

The  tall  one  drew  the  photographer 
aside  and  asked  if  he  could  make  a 


picture  of  him,  alone.  The  two  re- 
tired to  a  mysterious  place  behind" 
curtains.     Shortly  they  returned. 

"One  dollar,  please." 

"Can  I  p'y  arf  now,  and  'ave  the 
rest  charged  ?" 

The  usurious  photographer  insisted 
upon  his  cash. 

"The  Gov'nment  oughter  p'y  you," 
said  the  shorter  one. 

"Not  a  chance  !  I  can't  charge 
anything  to  you  fellows;  first  thing 
I  know  you'll  be  oflF  to  the  other  side 
and  standing  up  in  front  of  some 
cannon,  and  that'll  be  the  last  I'll  ever 
see  of  my  money." 

Not  a  whit  subdued  by  this  cheerful 
thought,  the  two  Tommy  Atkinses 
broke  into  uproarious  laughter  as  the 
money  was  paid  over.  Said  the  tall 
one  as  he  went  out  : 

"Well,  sir,  you'd  get  your  money 
back,  then,  as  you  could  sell  my  fice 
to  the  newspapers." 


When  They  Said  Good-bye 


THE  CAMERON 
HIGHLANDERS  EN- 
TRAIN WITH  THE 
BAND  PLAYING 
"WILL  YE  NO  COME 
BACK  AGAIN?" 


T'hotograph,  Underwood  Cf  Underwood,  N.   Y. 

THE  old  station  with  its  open-to- 
the-sky    tracks   never   held    so 
tight-jammed   a   crowd   before. 
There  wasn't  a  suit  case  among 
them,     so     they     weren't     travelling. 
There  wasn't  a  laugh,  nor  an  icecream 
cone,  nor  a  lunchbox. 

They  didn't  stare  out  west,  nor  down 
east  for  a  train  to  swing  around  the 
curve,  porters  and  foot-stools  dripping 
from  its  vestibules.  Their  eyes  were 
fixed  steadily  on  a  long  line  of  empty 
cars  on  Track  Two  and  tlieir  ears  were 
strained  for  the  faraway  beat  of  a  drum. 
For  the  Blanks  were  to  entrain 
for  Valcartier  at  eleven  o'clock. 
Last  night  the  two  papers  carried 


the  announcement,  wired  from  Head- 
quarters, and  for  once  in  their  Donny- 
brook  lives,  they  agreed  in  saying — 
front  t  page,  box-headed — that  the 
wholetown  should  turn  out  and  cheer. 

They  had  turned  out.  But  not  the 
press  nor  the  pulpit  nor  the  Governor- 
General  in  Council  assembled  could 
make  them  cheer. 

The  purple-and-fine-linen  crowds 
under  the  silk-striped  awning  of  the 
Coliseum  used  to  cheer.  But  the 
gladiators  who  put  on  the  show,  and 
the  gladiators'  wives  and  little  ones 
had  sounded  the  immensities  of  terror 
and  love  and  bravery  too  deep  to  shout 
about  it. 

Here  on  the  station  platform  even 
the  blue  eyes  of  the  pink  voile  girl  with 
the  Roman  sash  were  sombre  with  the 
thought  of  it. 

Girls,  and  girls,  and  girls! — middy- 
blouse  girls  and  tailormade  girls;  girls 
who  had  come  in  Jack-draped  autos, 
fresh  from  selling  flags  for  the  Hospital 
Ship;  girls  with  carbon-paper  marks 
on  their  fingers  and  ten-minutes-leave 
in  their  ears ;  girls  who  had  never  work- 
ed and  girls  yvho  had  seldom  played — 

Why? 

The  regiment  is  young,  you  see,  just 
boys,  most  of  them.  And  for  every 
Tommy  Atkins  that  swings  Warward 
to  "The  British  Grenadiers,"  there 
is  like  to  be  a  Bessie  Blue-eyes  some- 
where, reading  the  press  beyond  the 
Woman's  Page  for  the  first  time  in  her 
pink-voile  life,  trying  to  learn  where 
the  Aisne  is,  and  praying  God,  beside 
her  little  bed,  that  the  Uhlans  won't 
shoot  straight. 


A  long,  unconscious  sigh  is  wrung 
from  the  crowd.  Far  away  down  the 
street  you  can  hear  the  band,  faint 
as  a  dream-band,  fearful  as  an  omen, 
the  heart-lifting,  breath-taking  strains 
of  "O  Canada!" 

"I  can't  see,  I  can't,  I  can't!" 
moans  Bessie  at  your  elbow,  five  feet 
two  inches  of  fluttering  tip-toed 
anxiety,    "oh,  why    wasn't    I    tall?" 

First  come  the  officers  who  have 
been  rejected — the  Colonel  with  his 
handsome  head  well  back,  the  Major 
who  had  wires  from  all  over  Canada 
saying  the  signers  would  go  if  he  did. 

Rejected  ? 

Yes,  owing  to  the  last,  the  worst,  the 
most  solemnly  impassable  obstacle  to 
enlistment — they  were  over  age.  The 
crowd  did  cheer  a  little  just  there,  and 
God  must  have  loved  them  for  it. 

Then  came  the  boys,  rank  on  rank 
of  them.  They  didn't  carry  rifles 
as  they  do  on  parade.  They  brought 
just  their  own  splendid,  death-ready 
selves.  The  rifles  could  go  in  the 
baggage  car.  Besides,  there  was  the 
leavetaking.  You  can't  draw  mother 
into  your  arms  if  you  carry  a  gun. 
And,  thank  Heaven,  no  military  regula- 
ations  in  the  world  wish  to  handicap 
you  there. 

Three  to  the  left  was  Jackie — they 
had  always  called  him  so — ^just 
eighteen,  Jackie  with  the  steady  eyes, 
Jackie  who  sang  in  the  surpliced  choir. 

"  'The  Lord  is  my  light  and  my 
salvation,'  "  said  a  woman  in  the 
Continued  on  page  442. 


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The  Corporal  and  the  Girl 


OF  all  the  towns  which  have 
sprung  into  being  at  the  magic 
touch  of  a  great  transcontinental 
railway  in  its  march  across  the 
continent,  perhaps  none  has  attained 
more  notoriety  than  Frontier,  Alberta, 
principally  on  account  of  the  great 
rea'  estate  boom  it  enjoyed  at  its 
birth,  and  the  enormous  amount  of 
advertising  it  received  therefrom. 

A  typical  frontier  railroad  town; 
hospitable,  virile,  wicked,  with  all  the 
virtues  and  vices  which  youthful  towns 
are  heir  to,  at  the  time  of  which  we 
write,  it  stood  in  a  wild  empty  land 
where  roads  were  few  and  poor,  so  that 
with  the  exception  of  the  stage 
route  trail,  which  stretched  away  into 
s'jme  far  land  of  promise,  egress  and 
ingress  was  made  almost  entirely  by 
the  railroad.  The  Mounted  Police, 
therefore,  were  often  forced  to  charter 
the  iron  steed  in  their  excursions 
hither  and  yon. 

"Just  one  more  deal  ?''  asked 
Tommy  Bliss,  giving  the  cards  a  pre- 
liminary shuffle. 

"And  then  another  and  another," 
said  Corporal  O'Connor,  sarcastically. 
"Fact  is,  I'm  not  in  very  good  form 
to-night,  and  I  guess  I'll  (|uit." 

"Well,  me  for  town,"  said  Les 
Graham,  who  shared  with  Tommy  and 
another  of  the  boys  from  the  superin- 
tendent's office  the  snug  lx)x-car  in 
which  they  had  been  having  a  friendly 
game. 

The  fourth  member  of  the  party 
followed  Graham  into  the  darkness, 
and  the  Corporal  leaned  back  in  the 
only   easy-chair   the   car   could    boast 


By  M.  Eugenie  Perry 

Illustrated  by  Gertrude  Spaller 

and  puffed  meditatively  away  at  a 
cigarette,  while  Tommy  started  his 
pipe  going  and  propped  himself  up 
with  pillows  from  the  bunk,  on  the  edge 
of  which  he  had  been  sitting. 

"Those  pictures  don't  seem  to  have 
any  meaning  to  me  to-night,"  said  the 
Corporal  referring  to  the  cards  which 
still  lay  on  the  dry-goods  box  which 
had  been  doing  duty  as  a  table.  "I 
think  I'll  (luit  poker  for  good." 

"And  settle  down  to  respectable 
married  life  with  Miss  Renfrew  ?" 
Tommy  was  returning  O'Connor's 
sarcasm  with  interest. 

"Does  your  implied  doubt  of  the 
respectability  thereof  refer  to  Miss 
Renfrew  or  to  me  ?"  calmly  enquired 
his  companion,  whose  mood  was  con- 
templative  rather   than   quarrelsome. 

"Oh  !  I  guess  the  girl  herself  is 
respectable  enough,"  grudgingly  ad- 
mitted Tommy. 

"Absolutely  !"  said  the  Corporal 
positively,  "and  I  know  her  much 
better  than  you  possibly  can." 

"That's  easy  ;"  Tommy  paused, 
wondering  just  how  far  he  might  go, 
without  giving  offence.  "But,  I  say, 
old  chap,  her  people  are  imjKJSsible, 
you  know;  and  her  English — wouldn't 
it  jar  you  a  little  as  a  steady  thing  ?" 

Now  Corporal  O'Connor  of  the 
Royal  North  West  Mounted  Police  had 
spent  a  good  deal  of  time  arguing  that 
very  matter  over  with  himself;  and  in 
reality  had  been  able  to  reach  no  deci- 
sion, but  he  brought  forward  against 
Tommy's  objections  the  same  argu- 
ments he  was  in  the  habit  of  turning 
against  himself. 


"I'm  not  thinking  of  marrying  her 
people,"  he  said,  "and  as  for  good 
English,  it  doesn't  seem  of  so  much 
consequence  out  here,  where  it  is  the 
exception,  not  the  rule." 

"Out  here,"  repeated  Tommy. 
"Then  you  don't  expect  to  present  her 


e 


'Tim         * 


'!rT 


> 


.■^,* 


VIVIBN    GAV«     TOMMY    UP    AS 

AWAY  TO  IA9IBII  CllNIJUKSl 

THAT  H«  IIAII  rl.AVi 

A  l.irri.l  M"i 


I.    AND    WHIKLBO 

iiiM  ro  wim 

i   LSAD 

41* 


414 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


to  your  people  back  in  Ireland,  to  your 
uncle  the  Earl,  for  instance  ?" 
.  "My  uncle  the  Earl  be  hanged," 
said  the  Corporal  testily,  for  indeed  he 
had  his  share  of  family  pride;  and  the 
family  bugbear,  in  the  shape  of  this 
august  relative,  had  been  haunting 
him  considerably  of  late. 

"Besides,"  he  added  with  a  grin, 
"their  ignorance  concerning  Canadians 
is  so  great  over  there,  that  they  would 
perhaps  be  much  more  surprised  if  she 
spoke  correctly.  They  think  of  all 
Canadians  as  about  half-civilized 
Indians.  However,  I'm  not  just  sure 
I  care  what  they  think." 

He  might  truthfully  have  added  that 
he  wasn't  sure  of  anything  connected 
with  the  matter;  but  he  merely  puffed 
away  at  his  cigarette  in  silence,  watch- 
ing the  smoke  drift  slowly  towards  the 
roof  of  Tommy's  snug  railroad  quarters. 
Then  the  divisional  surgeon  looked  in 
on  his  way  past  from  the  hospital  car. 

"Hello,  Doc  !"  called  Tommy  hos- 
pitably.   "Come  on  in." 

"Well  just  a  minute,"  said  thedoctor 
depositing  himself  on  a  box  near  the 
stove. 

"Town's  rather  quiet  this  week," 
remarked  Tommy  conversationally,  as 
the  doctor  drew  out  his  pipe. 

"Quiet  ?  Yes  1"  said  the  doctor 
shortly,  "but  with  a  quiet  that  is  worse 
than  noise." 

The  Corporal  nodded  acquiescence. 

"Why,  how's  that  ?"  from  Tommy, 
"haven't  seen  so  few  drunks  on  the 
streets  in  months." 

"Less  whiskey,  more  dope,"  an- 
swered the  doctor  laconically.  "Less 
unpl.asant  for  the  passers-by,  more 
dangerous  for  the  victims.  There  have 
been  nearly  a  dozen  cases  of  doping  and 
robbery  in  the  last  two  weeks.  A  man 
coming  in  here  now  to  spend  his  stake 
is  taking  his  life  in  his  hands.  I  was 
.speaking  to  Long  Gus  from  the  mines 
just  yesterday,  and  he  says  he's  going 
to  pass  the  word  to  all  his  men  to  give 
the  divisional  the  go-by  for  awhile. 
He  says  they  don't  get  anything  like 
a  run  for  their  money  here  at  present. 

"I  have  a  case  on  my  hands  now 
that  may  or  may  not  prove  fatal;  and 
if  the  man  winks  out,  why  it's  a  case 
for  the  police  and  there  will  probably 
be  a  big  investigation." 

"That's  right,"  spoke  up  Corporal 
O'Connor,  "the  old  man  is  just  waiting 
for  a  chance  to  take  hold.  He  has  no 
jurisdiction  in  town,  unless  he  bears 
absolute  proof  of  crooked  dealing;  and 
that's  deuced  hard  to  get,  with  every 
second  person  you  meet  in  league  with 
the  crooks." 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor  rising, 
"there's  one  thing  sure,  if  this  Swede 
goes  under.  Slim  Renfrew  and  his 
gang  had  better  not  waste  any  time 
hitting  for  the  tall  timbers." 

"What's  your  hurry,  Doc  ?"  asked 


Tommy,  "  W  c 
might  have  a  few 
rounds  of  poker, 
though  O'Connor's 
not  in  very  good 
form  to-night." 

"Sorry,"  thedoc- 
tor smiled,  "but 
you  must  remem- 
ber I'm  a  very 
much  married  man 
and  I'd  better  be 
getting  along  home 
to  the  wife  and 
kid." 

The  following 
evening  being  the 
occasion  of  the 
weekly  dance, 
Tommy  accom- 
panied the  Cor- 
poral over  to  the 
moving  picture 
theatre,  where  the 
dances  were  held. 
It  was  after  half- 
past  ten  when  they 
arrived,  and  the 
performance  was 
over,  the  general 
crowd  gone.  The 
chairs  had  been 
pushed  back,  the 
floor  swept  and  the 
dance  was  in  full 
swing. 

AsTommy  didn't 
dance  and  Miss 
Renfrew  was  al-  • 
ready  on  the  floor 
the  two  young 
men  lighted  their 
pipes  and  lounged 
in  the  doorway,  watching  the  sway- 
ing crowd  before  them.  With  a 
few  exceptions,  the  weekly  dances 
were  attended  only  by  the  better 
element  of  the  town;  and  as  is  sure  to 
be  the  case  in  a  frontier  town  the  men 
were  distinctly  in  the  majority;  and 
most  of  the  women  there  were  married. 
But  there  were  some  girls — the  pretty 
girl  who  adorned  the  glass  ticket  office 
outside  the  theatre  door,  a  couple  of 
school  teachers,  a  couple  of  steno- 
graphers, the  girl  from  the  post-office, 
a  visitor  or  two,  and  Melissa  Renfrew. 
Melissa  was  no  dime  novel  heroine. 
Out  at  the  front  a  girl  does  not  need  to 
possess  a'  sylph-like  form,  a  peaches- 
and-cream  complexion  and  curling 
golden  hair  to  make  a  hit  with  a  man, 
or  many  men  if  she  so  wishes.  Melissa 
was  not  even  pretty  except  with  the 
beauty  which  the  freshness  of  youth 
imparts,  yet  in  the  eyes  of  Corporal 
O'Connor  she  was  more  charming  than 
the  earliest  flower  which  pushes  its 
dainty  head  through  the  prairie  in  the 
fragrant  spring. 

Her  parents  were  no-account  Ontario 
farmers   who    had   gravitated    to    the 


TEARS  W  11  LIU  INTO  MELISSA'S  GRAY  EYES.  BUT  SHE  TWISTED  HALF  AWAY 

FROM  THE  CORPORAL  AND  WINKED  THEM  BACK  BRAVELY.       "POKER 

AGAIN,    I   SUPPOSE,"  SHE   TOLD    HIM 


front  with  the  rest  of  the  country's 
flotsam  and  jetsam;  and  for  a  num- 
ber of  years  had  been  occupied  with 
keeping  a  rough  but  comparatively 
respectable  boarding  house  in  one 
or  other  of  the  new  towns  as  they 
were  opened  up.  The  eldest  daughter 
had  succumbed  to  the  looseness  of  her 
environment  and  had  followed  the  road 
of  apparently  easy  money,  which  is  yet 
the  hardest  earned  of  any  in  all  the 
wicked  world. 

The  son  had  developed  into  a  typical 
tin-horn,  making  a  fat  living  by  pluck- 
ing the  numerous  pigeons  who  flocked 
into  the  divisional  town  to  spend  their 
monthly  stake. 

But  the  younger  daughter,  though 
brought  up  in  the  same  atmosphere, 
was  of  a  different  calibre.  The  eternal 
value  of  things  was  clearer  to  her  than 
to  the  rest  of  the  family;  and  with 
young-old  wisdom  she  balanced  the 
rewards  of  virtue  against  the  wages  of 
sin;  and  to  her  vision  the  broad  and 
crooked  path  appeared  not  fair. 
Caution,  not  virtue  you  say  ?  Wisdom 
not  innocence  ?  A  most  unheroine- 
like  attitude  ?    I  told  you  she  was  not 


a  novel's  heroine,  but  a  matter-of-fact, 
clear-sighted,  twentieth  century  west- 
ern girl.  At  the  present  moment  she 
was  gyrating  round  the  room  to  the 
gay  strains  of  "Alexander's  Rag-time 
Band,"  with  one  of  the  toughest 
characters  in  this  none  too  moral  town, 
her  brother,  Slim  Renfrew. 

Even  at  that,  O'Connor's  face  took 
on  an  unpleasant  expression  as  he 
watched  them,  for  he  was  never  glad 
to  be  reminded  of  the  disreputable 
connections  of  the  girl  he  was  con- 
sidering as  a  matrimonial  proposition. 
"There's  one  thing  sure,"  thought 
he,  "if  I  marry  her,  if  she'll  have  me, 
we  don't  stay  near  her  people.  When 
that  money  comes  to  me  next  year  I 
can  buy  myself  out  of  the  force— and 
then — for  pastures  new." 

Then  the  dance  was  over  and  he 
left  Tommy  and  went  over  to  where  she 
sat.  As  he  approached  he  heard  her  say : 
"You  shouldn't  'a  come;  you  know 
this  town  is  getting  to  be  a  hot  place 
for  you.  You'd  better  get  out  while 
the  getting's  good." 

"C)h  !  I  ain't  running  no  risks 
round  here,"  Slim  answered.  "The 
town  police  only  helps  us  out  an'  the 
Mounties  ain't  got  no  call  to  butt  in." 
Seeing  the  Corporal  approaching  he 
continued  insolently,  not  caring 
whether  he  was  overheard  or  not. 
"Anyhow,  your  stand-in  with  that 
bunch  ought  to  help  some  to  keep  yer 
family  out  of  the  coop." 

He  went  off  with  a  careless  nod  of  his 
handsome  dare-devil  head  and 
Melissa's  face  turned  scarlet.  O'Con- 
nor pretended  not  to  notice  her  con- 
fusion and  talked  quietly  of  indifTcrent 
matters,  while  her  eyes  followed  Slim 
in  his  progress  towards  the  door. 
There  he  was  stopped  by  the  manager 
of  the  dance,  who  said  something  that 
evidently  annoyed  him.  She  saw  his 
hand  slide  towards  his  hip-pocket,  but 
prudence  evidently  conquered  his 
anger  for  he  set  his  hat  defiantly  on  his 
head  and  swaggered  out. 

"Ordered  out,"  thought  the  Cor- 
poral, though  he  had  given  no  evidence 
of  having  watched  this  by-play,  and 
his  guess  was  confirmed  by  Slim's 
failure  to  return  to  the  hall. 

Melis,sa's  big  grey  eyes  were  cast 
down  and  her  face  was  burning. 
O'Connor  was  afraid  she  was  going  to 
cry,  but  he  needn't  have  feared, — 
Melissa  was  made  of  sterner  stuff — 
she  was  used  to  meeting  all  kinds  of 
emergencies.  She  bit  her  lip  hard  and 
winked  back  the  tears  that  had  actually 
welled  into  her  eyes,  until  in  aminuteor 
so  she  had  quite  regained  her  com- 
posure, but  the  red  remained  in  her 
cheeks  and  made  her  look  for  the  time 
quite  pretty. 

"Are  you  engaged  for  the  next 
dance  ?"  he  ask«l  her. 

"Yes,  I  am,"  she  said  rather  crossly, 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

"I  thought  you  wasn't  coming."  She 
was  angry  at  her  brother  for  placing 
her  in  a  humiliating  position  and, 
womanlike,  had  to  revenge  herself  on 
someone.  The  real  culprit  not  being 
available,  she  chose  the  person  who, 
being  fondest  of  her,  would  stand  the 
most  ill  treatment  at  her  hands. 

"I  was  down  at  the  car  with  Bliss 
and  we  got  into  a  game  and  I  couldn't 
get  away  just  then." 

Tears  welled  into  her  eyes,  but  she 
twisted  away  and  winked  them  back. 

"Poker  again,  I  suppose,"  she  said 
fiercely.  "I  don't  think  much  of  that 
young  fella  anyhow.  He'd  ought  to 
have  something  better  to  do  than 
playing  poker  every  night  in  the  week 
and  dragging  other  fellas  into  it  too. 
Why  don't  he  get  a  girl  that'll  take 
some  interest  in  him,  and  keep  him 
going  straight  ?  That  stuck  up  Miss 
Vane  looks  like  she'd  be  glad  enough 
to  have  him  fooling  around  with  her." 
When  the  Corporal  had  left  him. 
Tommy  moved  into  the  hall  and  stood 
leaning  against  the  back  row  of  chairs 
calmly  surveying  the  scene  before  him. 
When  the  music  stopped  Vivien 
Vane  happened  to  stop  quite  close  by. 
"Oh,  hello  !"  she  said,  as  if  she  had 
but  just  noticed  him. 

"Hello  !"  smiled  Tommy  and  as  her 
partner  excused  himself  he  moved 
farther  in  and  took  the  seat  beside  her. 
Vivien  had  lately  taken  the  position 
of  stenographer  in  the  superinten- 
dent's office,  where  Tommy  also  was  a 
member  of  the  staff.  She  was  an 
arrant  little  flirt,  and  had  conquered 
the  hearts  of  the  rest  of  the  ofificc  men 
during  her  first  week.  Only  Tommy 
remained  aloof.  He  didn't  care  to  run 
in  a  crowd,  so  he  was  an  object  of  some 
interest. 

"Oh  !  why  don't  you  learn  to  dance?" 
she  asked  presently. 

"Can't    see    anything    to    it,"    he 
answered  boyishly,  "or  I  would.     I'd 
much  rather  play  a  game  of  foot-ball 
or  go  shooting." 
Vivien  sniffed. 

"That's  a  boy  for  you,"  she  said 
scornfully.  "Wait  a  few  years  and 
you'll  be  sorry,  and  then  your  feet 
will  be  too  stiff  to  learn."  She  seemed 
to  think  this  a  sufficiently  dreadful 
outlook  to  frighten  anyone. 

"Not  this  dance,"  she  told  a  would- 
be  partner  who  appeared  at  that 
moment,  "I'm  going  to  sit  this  out 
with  Mr.  Bliss — though  you  didn't 
ask  me  to,"  she  added  reproachfully 
to  Tommy  as  the  other  disappeared. 
"What  am  I  supposed  to  say  now  ?" 
a.skcd  Tommy  serenely.  "I'm  not 
very  much  used  to  girls  you  know,  so 
I'd  like  a  few  suggestions  on  the  proper 
mode  of  procedure." 

"I  suppose,"  said  hi§  companion 
sarcastically,  "you'd  like  lessons  on  the 
gentle  art  of  flirtation." 


415 

"Oh  !  are  we  flirting  ?"  enquired 
Tommy  in  surprise. 

I  n  sheer  exasperation  Vivien 
changed  the  subject  and  actually 
talked  on  impersonal  matters  for  a 
time,  then — 

"Did  you  and  your  friend  the  Cor- 
poral have  an  interesting  session  last 
night  ?"  she  enquired,  with  a  glint  of 
mischief  in  her  brown  eyes. 

"How  did  you  know  the  Corporal 
was  over  ?" 

"Oh  a  little  bird  told  me." 

"In  other  words,  Graham  was  over 

to  call  last  night.     Guess  I'm  getting 

some  information  too,"  said  Tommy 

with  a  grin.    "What's  the  matter  with 

the  Corporal  ?    You  don't  like  him  ?" 

"I  don't  know  him,  but  I  don't  like 

the  company  he  keeps."    She  glanced 

meaningly  towards  Melissa   Renfrew. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  with  her  ?" 

asked  Tommy  as  if  he  himself  had  not 

been    but    lately    remonstrating    with 

O'Connor  on  this  subject. 

"Well,  they're  rather  awful  people, 
aren't  they  ?  The  sister  and  the 
brother,^ — and  all  ?" 

"I  think  the  girl  herself  is  all  right," 
said  Tommy  half  grudgingly,  "but  I 
must  say  I  can't  see  what  he  sees  in 
her." 

"Lack  of  competition,"  said  Vivien 
wisely.  "It's  always  the  same  when 
girls  are  scarce  and  men  plentiful,  then 
they  marry  girls  they  simply  wouldn't 
look  at  under  other  circumstances. 
But  it  isn't  only  commonness  in  her 
case.  I'd  think  a  man  would  hate  ta 
get  mixed  up  in  that  bunch.  I  don't 
know  the  Corporal,  nor  care  about  him 
one  way  or  the  other— only  if  I  were 
a  man  I  don't  think  I'd  choose  him  as 
steady  company.  I  was  considering 
you,  not  him,"  and  Vivien  gave  a 
ravishing  glance  at  her  companion 
which  was  entirely  wasted. 

So  Vivien  gave  him  up  as  a  bad  job 
and  whirled  away  to  easier  conquests, 
leaving  Tommy  wishing  he  had  played 
up  to  her  lead  a  little  more  briskly,  but 
had  she  come  back  just  then  he'd 
probably  have  acted  in  the  same  way 
again.  Tommy  was  very  much  boy. 
The  dance  was  drawing  to  a  close 
when  a  man  came  unobtrusively  in  at 
the  hall  door  and  stood  just  inside 
watching  the  dancing.  Presently  he 
caught  Melissa  Renfrew's  eye  and 
winketl  vigorously. 

When  the  dance  ended  Melissa  sat 
down  as  near  the  back  as  possible  and 
asked  the  Corporal  to  get  her  a  drink 
of  water.  Then  she  looke<l  around 
for  the  man  in  the  backgroimd  who 
immediately  came  up  and  spoke  a  few 
quick  words  to  her. 

The  man  was  a  notorious  gambler, 
a  friend  of  Slim's,  and  an  admirer 
(unencouraged,  the  Corporal  had 
always  thought)  of  Melissa's.  There- 
fore when,  during  the  next  dance  which 


416 

he  had  with  another  girl,  he  saw 
Melissa  rescue  her  wraps  from  the 
jumble  of  unused  chairs  at  the  back, 
and  slip  quietly  out  of  the  hall,  he  was 
furiously,  jealously  angry. 

"Tommy  was  right,"  he  thought 
bitterly.  "Everybody's  right,  and  I'm 
a  damn  fool.  I  might  know  nothing 
good  could  come  from  that  bunch,  but 
I  did  think  she  was  different.  Now 
she's  gone  ofif  with  that  limb  of  Satan 
as  unconcernedly  as  if  I  weren't  in  the 
universe.  Well,  let  her  go;  no  doubt 
in  a  month's  time,  I'll  be  thanking  my 
stars  for  the  escape  I've  had." 

Just  then  the  Inspector  appeared  at 
the  door  and  beckoned  the  Corporal. 
"The  doctor  was  just  around,"  he 
said,  "and  it  seems  that  doped  Swede 
he  has  been  treating  is  dead ;  so  this  is 
where  we  come  in.  I  have  warrantsout 
for  the  arrest  of  several  men  believed 
to  be  implicated,  but  I'm  afraid  the 
word  to  move  on  is  already  abroad, 
and  we'H  likely  have  some  difficulty 
locating  them.  Renfrew,  however,  has 
been  around  town  all  evening,  so  you 
should  have  no  difficulty  in  nabbing 
him." 

"All  right,  sir.  I'll  go  right  after 
him,"  and  the  Corporal  suited  the 
action  to  the  word.  Nor  had  he  any 
compunction  in  starting  off  on  a  hunt 
for  Melissa's  brother,  for  a  crook  was 
a  crook;  and  to-night  he  felt  fierce 
enough  to  clean  up  the  whole 
crowd. 

But  Slim  was  not  in  any  of  his  usual 
haunts;  and  someone  suggested  that 
he'd  probably  strike  up  the  line  for 
Mile  39,  if  he  could  bribe  any  of  the 
railway  men  to  take  him;  for  at  39 
were  many  of  his  own  kind  who  would 
make  an  effort  to  hide  him,  or  speed 
him  on  his  way  over  the  mountains  to 
British  Columbia.  On  the  street 
O'Connor  ran  into  Tommy  Bliss  wan- 
dering towards  home  and  accosted  him 
at  once. 

It  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  and 
that  would  mean  perhaps  an  all  night 
trip,  but  when  he  suggested  Tommy's 
running  him  up  the  line  on  one  of  the 
gasoline  speeders  which  were  at  the 
disposal  of  the  superintendent's  stafT, 
the  excitement  of  a  trip  which  might 
end  in  a  scrap  appealed  to  Tommy's 
adventurous  boy's  heart,  and  he  con- 
sented immediately. 

Les  Graham  was  just  getting  ready 
for  bed  when  Tommy  arrived  to  get  a 
heavy  overcoat  from  the  car,  and 
informed  him  that  he  was  off  with  the 
Corporal  on  a  man  hunt. 

"Say,  I  wonder  !"  said  Les.  "As  I 
came  across  the  track  a  man  was  just 
starting  off  on  that  hand  speeder  that 
is  usually  standing  beside  the  station. 
I  rather  wondered  who  would  be  hitting 
out  at  that  hour.  There  was  someone 
with  him — looked  like  a  woman,  but 
I  didn't  notice  particularly." 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

Tommy  imparted  this  piece  of 
information  to  O'Connor. 

"Perhaps  Slim  is  trying  to  make  his 
get-away  dressed  as  a  woman,"  said 
the  Corporal  facetiously,  "and  is  taking 
someone  along  to  help  pump  the 
speeder— evidently  he  followed  his 
usual  method  of  helping  himself  to 
anything  in  sight." 

It  was  an  exceedingly  dark  night 
with  an  occasional  flurry  of  rain  and  a 
heavy  wind  was  blowing — certainly 
not  a  night  one  would  choose  for  a 
pleasure  jaunt,  but  the  two  young  men 
were  used  to  weather.  The  Corporal 
climbed  on  the  back  seat  of  the  speeder. 
Tommy  gave  a  run,  a  push,  jumped  on, 
and  they  were  off  up  the  grade  at  a 
tearing  pace. 

They  reached  the  first  station  with- 
out having  seen  anything  of  the  fugi- 
tives, and  having  lifted  the  car  ofT  the 
track  to  let  the  regular  rom  the  west 
go  past,  they  roused  the  section  man 
and  enquired  if  he  had  heard  a  hand 
speeder  go  by;  for  the  gasoline  car 
made  so  much  more  noise  than  the 
hand-pumped  variety,  that  the  runa- 
ways might  easily  have  heard  its 
approach,  lifted  their  car  into  the 
brush  and  remained  securely  hidden 
while  their  pursuers  whirled  past. 

But  the  section  man  grouchily 
admitted  that  he  had  heard  a  car  go 
past  but  a  short  time  before  and  the 
boys  put  their  speeder  back  on  the 
track  and  continued  the  pursuit. 

"Ought  to  soon  overtake  a  hand-car 
at  this  rate  of  going,"  the  Corporal 
roared  into  Tommy's  ear. 

"Sure,"  cried  that  young  man. 
"We've  got  'em  beat  to  a  frazzle." 
But  he  reckoned  without  the  speeder, 
than  which  there  is  nothing  more 
capricious  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  not 
even  a  woman  or  an  automobile. 
Without  a  by-your-Ieave  the  engine 
stopped,  and  Tommy,  who  had  but 
lately  learned  to  run  a  gasoline  speeder, 
and  was  not  as  well  acquainted  as 
might  be  with  its  internal  arrange- 
ments, was  put  to  it  to  find  the  reason 
for  its  eccentric  lack  of  action. 

The  Corporal  held  the  lantern  and 
Tommy  opened  the  tool  box  which 
when  closed,  constituted  the  back 
seat,  and  while  ostentatiously  tossing 
over  its  contents  he  took  a  few  sur- 
reptitious glances  at  the  instructions 
printed  on  the  inside  of  the  lid,  but 
failed  to  find 'an  inspiration  therein. 

Now  a  speeder  is  caprice  personified. 
The  tiniest  thing  will  throw  it  out  of 
gear,  and  by  the  same  token  the  most 
insignificant  twist  or  turn  may  start 
it  running  again  in  the  way  it  should 
go.  And  so  it  happened  that  as 
Tommy  groped  in  the  darkness  (mental 
as  well  as  elemental)  for  some  clue  to 
its  disability,  by  accident  he  gave 
the  proper  twist  to  a  screw  or  valve  or 
something  and    the   engine   began   to 


purr  and  spark  like  a  giant  cat,  and 
the  car  sprang  forward  into  the  night. 
As  the  Corporal  jumped  to  his  place 
at  the  back,  the  lantern  lurched 
against  a  corner  of  the  seat,  shivering 
the  glass  into  a  thousand  fragments 
and  the  light  went  out.  His  language 
was  almost  lurid  enough  to  replace  the 
vanished  flame,  but  his  words  fled  like 
shrieking  mischievous  devils  into  the 
darkness,  destined  to  do  scant  harm 
in  that  stretch  of  uninhabited  muskeg. 

"Pretty  frisky  business  going  at  this 
pace  without  a  light,"  shouted  Tommy, 
to  whose  adventurous  soul  this  was 
rare  sport,  "but  I'm  game  if  you  are." 

"Hit  her  up,"  roared  the  Corporal. 
"I'll  catch  those  crooks  to-night,  or 
my  name's  not  Terry  O'Connor — let 
'er  out." 

So  with  the  senseless  foolhardiness 
of  youth  they  raced  madly  forward  over 
bridges  and  switches  as  carelessly  as 
if  they  were  running  over  a  clear  track 
in  broad  daylight. 

The  night  seemed  to  have  grown 
darker  and  the  wind  was  howling  like 
hell  let  loose;  which,  combined  with 
the  speed  at  which  they  were  going, 
caused  the  cold,  intermittent  dashes  of 
rain,  to  cut  against  their  faces  like  hail. 
It  was  a  night  to  strike  to  the  stoutest 
heart,  and  even  dare-devil  Tommy  and 
the  dauntless  Corporal  who  had  faced 
many  a  dangerous  situation  unafraid 
began  to  feel  the  weirdness  of  that 
mad  race. 

Darkness  above,  below,  on  either 
hand,  they  seemed  to  be  soaring 
through  space — space  inhabited  only 
by  that  piercing  fearsome  wind,  that 
awesome  screaming  wind,  that  now 
seemed  to  have'  taken  a  new  note — 
a  wailing  eerie,  long-drawn-out  note 
that  might  be  the  howl  of  a  prairie 
wolf.  Or  could  it  be  the  passing  of 
a  soul — a  soul  liberated  from  its  earthly 
bondage,  faring  whither  ? 

A  soul  who  passed,  perhaps,  a  warn- 
ing— a  warning  of  an  obstructed  track, 
of  a  long  unrailed  trestle,  towering  far 
above  the  earth,  towering  far  above  the 
shapeless  mangled  body  that  had 
been  this  drifting  spirit's  erstwhile 
tenement. 

And,  in  unconscious  obedience  to  this 
spirit  voice  as  they  ran  on  the  Big 
Eddy  bridge  (so  called  from  a  great 
whirl  which  the  McLeod  River  takes  at 
this  particular  spot)  Tommy  slowed 
up  a  little.  To  this  fact  they  probably 
owed  their  lives.  In  another  minute 
the  speeder  reared  up  like  a  bucking 
bronco,  and  bounded  clear  of  the 
track. 

Tommy  found  himself  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  trestle  with  his  feet  hang- 
ing over  the  edge:  and  one  hundred  and 
fifty-five  feet  of  very  empty  air  be- 
tween himself  and  the  harmless  little 
Sundance  Creek  (which  at  this  place 
Continued  on  page  428. 


How  Valcartier  Looks 
From  the  Inside 

Now  all  you  recruities  what's  drafted  to-day, 
You  shut  up  your  rag-box  an'  'ark  to  my  lay, 
An'  I'll  sing  you  a  soldier  as  far  as  I  may: 
A  soldier  what's  fit  for  a  soldier. 

—SERGEANT'S  SONG 

By  H,  R.  Gordon,  Q.  O.  R. 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 


JEAN  Baptiste  Gauvreau  came 
home  to  his  little  shack  on  the 
bank  of  the  Jacques  Car  tier 
River  tAv-cnty  miles  above  Quebec, 
a  few  days  ago,  after  a  six  weeks'  trip 
in  the  bush.  He  had  been  guide  to  a 
party  of  three,  a  Toronto  doctor,  a 
real  estate  man  from  Winnipeg,  and 
a  Montreal  commission  man.  They 
had  been  out  in  the  bush  for  si.x  weeks, 
and  had  got  no  news  of  the  outside 
world  since  the  end  of  July.  As  the 
canoes  of  the  party  swung  around  a 
bend  of  the  river  near  the  Gauvreau 
homestead,  the  guide  dropped  his 
paddle  and  stared.  The  wood  lot  of 
the  farm  had  disappeared,  and  rows 
of  white  tents  stood  in  its  place.  Along 
the  river  bank  paced  men  in  khaki 
with  rifles  on  their  shoulders.  The 
Winnipeg  man  spotted  another 
column  of  khaki  clad  figures  in  kilts, 
peered  at  the  leading  one,  and  swore 
softly  in  surprise.  "That's  Bill  X." 
he  explained  to  his  friend  from  Mon- 
treal. "A  big  grain  dealer  out  my  way." 
The  Montreal  man  did  not  hear. 
He  was  staring  at  another  man  in  a 
wide  brimmed  helmet,  holding  a  rifle 
■for  the  inspection  of  a  grotip  of  still 
more  men  in  khaki.  "And  that's  my 
old  friend  John  Z."  said  the  Montreal- 
er.  The  Toronto  man  called  to  a 
^bespectacled  man,  also  in  kliaki. 
■"Hey  doc,  what  in  blazes  docs  this 
mean  ?"  The  answer  came  back  in 
a  sharp  monosyllable,   "War." 

The  military  camp  at  Valcartier 
•where  the  men  who  are  being  sent  by 
Canada  to  fight  the  battles  of  the 
Empire  abroad  have  iieen  getting 
their  training,  is  an  epitome  pf  the 
experience  that  Canada  has  passed 
through  since  the  first  week  in  August. 
After  a  century  of  peace,  of  an  unin- 
terrupted security  which  led  most 
Canadians  to  believe  that  war  wa.s  a 
dying  piece  of  barbarism  unworthy 
(he  attention  of  a  fast  growing  nation 
of  farmers  and  business  men,  the  war 
cloud  whose  very  existence  had  been 
scoffed  at  for  years,  burst,  and  Canada 


was  faced  with  the 
task  of  giving  effecti\'e 
aid  in  a  struggle  for 
the  preservation  of  the 
Empire. 

To  assemble,  train, 
and  equip  an  army  for 
the  hardest  possible 
kind  of  service  was  no 
easy  task.  The  lack 
of  that  constant  expec- 
tation of  war  which 
makes  warlike  prepara- 
tion one  of  the  most 
important  functions  of 
a  European  govern- 
ment, was  against  the 
securing  of  a  war  force 
in  the  requisite  time. 
The  Canadian  militia 
with   the   idea 


Copyright  International  News  > 

irrOCtlLATIKG  RECRI 


was  organized 
of  training  as  large  a 
number  of  men  as  possil)le  for  home 
defence  service,  not  for  offensive  oper- 
ations against  an  enemy  overseas. 
In  many  respects,  the  militia  depart- 
ment had  to  start  at  the  beginning. 
It  was  necessary,  in  large  measure,  to 
improvise  an  organization  to  get  the 
overseas  contingent  ready. 

The   first   step   was   to   establish   a 

camp   ground,   handy   to   a   sea-port, 

where  the  entire  contingent  could  get 

the    training    necessary    to    make    a 

crowd  of  farmers,  factory  hands,  office 

workers,    ordinary   Canadian   citizens, 

into  a  disciplined  army  in  as  short  a 

time  as  possible.     This  army  had  to 

be  equipped  with  a  very  large  number 

of   different   articles.     Each    man    for 

example  had  to  have  a  uniform,  boots, 

shirts,     socks,     greatcoat,     mess     tin, 

sewing  kit,  razor,  towel,    cap,  rifle, 

bayonet,  entrenching    tools,    water 

lx)ttle,  kit  bag,  haversack,  bandolier, 

knife,  fork  and  spoon.     Tents,  rubber 

sheets,    blankets,    cook   wagons,  cook 

pots,  water  wagons,  ammunition  carts, 

and  transport  wagons  had  to  be  made 

ready  for  each  unit,  horses  had  to  be 

bought    for  cavalry   and    artillery. 

Supplies   of    food    and    f<xlder    had 

to  be  arranged  for.     An  endless  mass 


of  detail  had  to  be  attended  to  before 
the  first  contingent  was  ready  to  sail. 

What  the  militia  department  lacked 
in  equipment  and  detailed  niobiliza- 
tion  plans  was  more  than  made  up  in 
practical  energy  and  enthusiasm.  The 
day  war  was  declared,  the  mobilization 
ground  was  decided  on.  Colonel  the 
Hon.  Sam  Hughes  noticed  some  years 
ago  that  land  on  the  Jacques  Cartier 
River  twenty  rmles  north  of  Quebec 
was  welt  adapted  for  camp  purposes. 
The  ground  wns  level  and  sandy,  the 
water  supply  from  the  river  was  excel- 
lent, the  site  was  far  enough  away  from 
towns  and  cities  to  ensure  a  well  con- 
ducted camp  that  would  pay  strict 
attention  to  business.'  Two  days  after 
the  declaration  of  war,  trenching 
machines  were  busy  digging  out 
markers'  shelters  for  rifle  ranges. 
Gangs  of  habitants,  evicted  for  a 
substantial  consideration  from  all 
fannhouses,  were  clearing  away  bush. 
Construction  gangs  were  lading  open 
tracks.  Motor  trucks  supplanted 
calt'chcs  on  the  roads  of  the  neighlxir- 
hood.  The  century -<5ld  drowsiness  of 
the  countryside  gave  place  to  feverish, 
but  orderly,  activit>». 

Ten  days  after  Canada's  offer  of  a 
contingent  had  been  accepted  by  the 
British  War  Office,   troops  began    to 


418 


CANADA  M(JNTHLY 


THE  FORTY-EICIITII  HK^MLANDKRS  LEAVING  THE  CANAIJIAN  NORTHERN'S  CHERRY  STREET 
STATION  EN  ROUTE  FROM  TORONTO  TO  VALCARTIER 


arrive  at  the  newly  created  camp  of 
Valcartier.  Men  of  all  types  came 
from  all  parts  of  the  country.  Blue- 
nosed  apple  growers  from  the  Maritime 
Provinces  looked  for  extra  tent  pegs 
in  the  lines  of  farmers  from  Saskat- 
chewan. Orangemen  from  Toronto 
exchanged  pleasantries  with  French 
Canadians  from  Montreal  and  Quebec. 
Kilties  from  British  Columbia  swapped 
stories  with  artillerymen  from  Ottawa. 
Every  walk  of  life  had  its  represen- 
tatives. More  than  one  bank  manager 
or  prosperous  contractor  served  in  the 
ranks.  More  than  one'  subordinate 
clerk  was  in  command  of  units.  The 
contingent  included  men  of  all  kinds 
from  every  part  of  the  country. 

When  the  troops  first  arrived  they 
were  more  or  less,  in  the  words  of  an 


energetic  young  officer,  "a  rabble." 
Some  had  uniforms  and  sound  boots. 
Some  came  in  plain  clothes.  Some 
were  well  provided  for.  Many  lacked 
necessary  equipment.  Some  showed 
the  effects  of  conscientious  drill,  others 
were  raw  recruits.  It  was  necessary 
to  turn  this  heterogeneous  mass  into 
a  disciplined,  trained,  thoroughly 
equipped  army. 

Discipline  was  the  most  important 
point  of  soldierly  duty  to  be  learned, 
and  in  many  respects  the  hardest 
lesson  of  all.  Life  under  conditions 
where  every  man  is  regarded  as  the 
equal  of  every  other  man,  and  where 
a  peremptory  command  from  a  boss 
often  ends  in  a  "Go  to  h — "  and  a 
search  for  a  new  job,  is  not  conducive 
to    that    instant     and     unquestioning 


BREAKING  IN  ARTILLERY  RECRUITS 


obedience  which  is  exacted  in  army- 
life.  In  a  good  many  cases  men  in 
the  ranks  were  superior,  mentally  and 
l)hysically,  to  the  corporals  and  ser- 
geants and  commissioned  officers  whom 
I  hey  were  expected  to  obey.  For  the 
llrst  two  or  three  days,  "talking  back" 
to  officers  was  not  uncommon. 

Then    a    change    came.     An    order 
was  issued  to  the  effect  that  any  man 
guilty  of   breaking  camp  regulations, 
such  as  those  against  bathing  in  the 
river  and  straying  out  of  bounds,  or 
of  disobedience  and  insolence  to  superi- 
ors,   would    be    sent   home,    and    not 
allowed  to  go  in  the  first  contingent. 
The  day  after  this  order  came  out  a 
man  was  found  dipping  up  a  pail  of 
water  from   the  river.     "Empty   that 
out,"  ordered    an    oflficer.     The    man 
threw  it  down  with  an  angry  gesture. 
"Arrest    him,"    ordered     the    captain. 
The  man  was  led  off  to  the  guard  tent. 
All  who  witnessed  the  incident  were 
subdued  and  respectful  from  that  time 
on.     It    was    somewhat    difficult    for 
close    friends,    different    in    rank,    to 
remember    the    respect    due    to    one's 
superior.  An  elder  brother  had  to  address 
his    younger    brother    as    "Sergeant." 
A  senior  man  from  Toronto  University 
had  to  address  a  friend  whom  he  had 
Jiitherto  patronized  as  a  freshman,  as 
"Sir,"  and  salute  whenever  he  spoke 
to   him.     The   officers,    for   the    most 
part,  realized  that  the  men  under  them 
were  their  equal  in  all  but  rank,  and 
did  not  attempt  to  domineer.     They 
pointed  out  the  reasons  for  the  com- 
mands   they    gave.     One    Q.    O.    R. 
officer,  explaining  what  sort  o£  cover 
men  should  take  in  action,  said :     "You 
can  see  for  yourselves  that  a  bush  or  a 
stone  is   a  convenient  object  to  aim 
at  and  would  draw  fire.     The  natural 
rolls  of  ground,  six  or  se\en  inches'deep, 
will   hide  men  who  lie  flat."     In  any 
other  army  the  officer  would  have  said : 
"Don't    take 
cover     behind 
bushes.     If  you 
do  you'll  get  two 
hours'    pack 
drill." 

During  'the 
first  week  of  the 
camp  none  of 
the  men  were 
worked!, very 
hard.  They  were 
gi\cn  time  to 
accustom  them- 
selves to  an 
entirely  new 
method  of  ex- 
istence. City 
men  used  to  ris- 
ing at  eight  in 
the  morning 
from  a  comfort- 
able mattress 
and  clean  sheets, 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


419 


breakfasting  at  home,  lunching  in 
a  downtown  restaurant,  dining  on 
well  cooked  meat  and  daintily  served 
desserts,  and  bathing  in  a  porcelain 
tub,  were  plunged  suddenly  into  a  life 
where  they  slept  in  rough  blankets 
on  the  ground,  washed  and  bathed 
under  taps  in  the  open,  and  ate  from 
mess  tins,  sitting  on  the  ground.  It 
was  not  easy  at  first,  but  before  the 
week  was  out,  the  adaptability  charac- 
teristic of  citizens  of  a  new  country 
had  made  them  all  settle  down.  Their 
hands  grew  hard,  their  jaws  grew  strong 
on  bully  beef,  and  their  bodies  learned 
to  find  the  soft  spots  in  bumpy  ground. 

With  discipline  established,  and  the 
fundamentals  of  drill  mastered,  came 
training  in  the  other  two  essentials 
of  a  good  soldier,  shooting  and  march- 
ing ability.  More  than  3,000  targets 
were  set  up  at  the  hastily  constructed 
ranges  three  miles  from  the  camp, 
and  ever>'  day  regiments  marched 
over,  fired  the  regulation  number  of 
rounds  and  marched  back.  The  in- 
tricacies of  the  magazine  and  sights 
of  the  new  Ross  Rifle  were  explained 
by  instructors  from  the  Permanent 
Militia.  At  first  the  men  were  gi\'en 
a  different  rifle  every  time  they  fired. 
They  had  to  move  the  sights  up  or 
down,  to  the  left  or  right,  and  get 
their  shots  closer  into  the  bullseye  as 
they  found  the  range.  As  each  man 
gained  control  of  his  rifle,  the  range 
was  lengthened. 

The  last  stage  was  shooting  under 
war  conditions.  Regiments  had  to 
advance  by  rushes  in  skirmishing  order, 


Cnpyrtjtnt  I  nttfnanunat  News  Service 


THE  CRACK  CAVALRY  OF  INDIA  WHO  WILL  FIGHT  SIDB  BY  SIDE  WITH  THE  CANADIAN  CONTINGENT 
IN  THE  BATTLE  LINES  OF  BUKOPB 


Cupyri^ni  i  <iurtni!iiin:ll    jV^m  .>rri-t  f 


PIKtH  ROVAl.  HIlillLANDIRS  SIC.tAL  CORPS  AT  PRACTICE  OM  THE 

RIKLK  KAN<:e  at  VAl.CARTIP.R 


as  they  would  on  the  battle  field,  and 
fire  as  soon  as  each  rush  ended.  The 
range  had  to  be  estimateil.  One  private 
described  it  thus:"  You  hear  a  whistle, 
you  jump  up  and  run  like  the  devil 
till  you  hear  another  whistle.  Then 
you  flop  down  before  you  stop,  and 
while  you're  skidding  along  on  your 
stomach  you  fix  your  sights.  Then 
you  blaze  away  till  you're  told  to  stop." 

As  hoots  were  issued  and  feet  grew 
hard,  the  daily  march  was  lengthened. 

And  by  degrees  a  brigade  grew  able  to 
start  out  in  the  morning  with  belts  and 
rifles,  a  load  of  forty  pounds,  on  their 
backs,  march  till  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon,  take  a  .swig  of  water  and  a  tin 
full  of  .skilly,  and  wash  under  the  taps, 
tired,  liut  by    no  means  exhausted. 

The  modern  soldier  has  to  know 
many  things,  and  be  able  to  stand 
severe  physical  e.xertion,  but  the  men 
of  Canada's  first  contingent  were  pick- 
ed for  efficiency,  both  of  mind  and 
body.  The  camp  at  Valcarticr  was 
run  on  practical  lines  by  business  men, 
experts  in  the  art  of  preparing  raw 
material  for  the  stem  test  of  modem 
warfare,  and  the  finished  product, 
20,000  effective  soldiers,  will  uphold 
Canada's  honor  at  Armageddon. 


Kitchener  of  Khartoum 

WITHOUT    NERVES    AND    WITHOUT   SYMPATHIES,  EXACTING 
ONLY  ONE  THING,  OBEDIENCE.  TAKING  NO  EXCUSES 
AND  SHOWING  NO  MERCY.  HE  IS  STILL  THE  IDOL 
OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY  AND  THE  EMPIRE 

By  J.  H.  M.  Abbott 

Illustrated  from  Photograph 


COINCIDENT  with  the  decla- 
ration of  war  with  Germany, 
Prime  Minister  Asquith  made 
a  momentous  decision  for  the 
British  Empire — one  which  will  meet 
with  the  whole-hearted  approval  of 
all  British  subjects.  It  was  indeed 
a  master  stroke  of  statesmanship  to 
appoint  Field  Marshal  Earl  Kit- 
chener of  Khartoum  as  Secretary  of 
State  for  War.  There  could  not  have 
been  a  happier  choice,  and  in  the 
opinion  of  most  military  men  there  is 
no  man  in  the  British  Empire  to-day 
who  is  more  fully  qualified  to  act  in 
this  onerous  and  important  capacity 
than  the  famous  "K  of  K".  He  has 
justly  earned  by  sheer  merit  and 
proved  service  the  entire  confidence 
of  both  military  and  civilian  sections 
of  the  community. 

It  seems  only  fit  that  a  soldier 
should  be  a  War  Minister  in  any 
Cabinet,  for  who  else  should  know  all 
the  intricate  details  of  organization 
and  preparedness  for  war  if  not  one 
whose  profession  is  that  of  Arms? 
There  is  a  large  school  of  thinkers 
who  have  never  agreed  with  the  policy 
of  appointing  a  lawyer  or  other  pro- 
fessional man  as  the  nominal  ruler  of 
the  army.  A  soldier  would  probably 
make  a  poor  substitute  for  Lord 
Chancellor — a  position  undeniably 
for  a  lawyer  to  fill — and  so  it  is  only 
natural  that  a  soldier  should  head 
the  War  Office.  How  justified  is 
Premier  Asquith's  selection  of  Earl 
Kitchener  as  War  Minister,  only  time 
can  prove.  But  judging  by  the  results 
shown  in  the  first  few  months  of  his 
tenure  of  ofiice,  his  selection  could 
not  have  been  bettered. 

Kitchener  has  swiftly  proved  that 
his  old-time  masterful  spirit  and  domi- 
nant levelheadedness  is  not  dormant. 
He  has  grasped  the  situation  with  a 
hand  of  steel,  and  with  remarkable 
celerity  has  thrown  a  powerful  ex- 
peditionary force  into  Belgium  to  the 
aid  of  Great  Britain's  Allies.  He  has 
for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of 
British  journalism  so  censored  the 
war  news  that  it  is  next  to  impossible 
to  obtain  even  an  inkling  of  what  is 

420 


going  forward.  The  numerical  strength 
and  the  composition  of  the  Expedition- 
ary Force  is  shrouded  in  mystery,  and 
their  movements  are  hidden  from  the 
public.  Kitchener  is  determined 
there  shall  be  no  possible  chance  of 
leakages  through  Press  channels  of  the 
plans  for  operations.  He  has  always 
been  opposed  to  the  War  Correspond- 
ent— an  opposition  that  the  years  have 
fostered  in  every  European  army — 
and  now  is  his  chance  to  see  that  his 
policy  is  strictly  enforced.  The  mere 
fact  that  he  has  assured  all  the  British 
papers  they  will  court  instant  suspen- 
sion if  they  divulge  war  movements 
not  given  out  by  the  Ofificial  Press 
Bureau,  augurs  well  for  a  secrecy 
which  has  hitherto  been  lamentably 
unobtainable  in  war-time.  The 
papers  will  obey,  for  they  know  Kit- 
chener is  no  man  to  be  trifled  with. 
What  he  commands  has  to  be  done. 
There  is  no  room  for  argument  or 
subterfuge. 

m  ss  @ 

How  "K.  of  K."  Brought  97  000  Men 
to  Colors  in  Twenty-four  Hours. 

Perhaps,  there  is  no  general  in  the 
world  to-day  who  has  such  a  first- 
class  reputation  as  Kitchener,  unless 
it  be  in  Japan.  Although  Europe  has 
been  an  armed  camp  for  generations, 
no  European  general  has  had  much 
opportunity  to  prove  his  worth. 
Kitchener's  experience  has  been  varied 
and  instructive.  Scoffers  there  are 
who  may  claim  that  his  operations 
against  the  Mahdi,  the  Khalifa,  and  the 
Boers  do  not  hold  good  in  modem 
warfare,  but  let  it  be  remembered  his 
reputation  ife  won  on  powers  of  organ- 
ization, administration,  and  military 
genius  rather  than  upon  actual  fighting. 
But  even  in  the  matter  of  fighting  he 
has  so  more  than  made  good,  that  there 
are  many  who  wonder  whether  he  will 
not  emerge  from  this  crisis  with  the 
halo  of  a  second  Napoleon;  somehow 
one  cannot  help  thinking  it  is  more 
than  possible.  In  any  event  the 
universal  confidence  he  inspires  is 
mainly  responsible  for  the  world- 
record-brealang    recruiting    of    some 


97,000  men  inside  twenty-four  hours. 

The  new  British  War  Minister  is 
sixty-four  years  old  by  the  book;  but 
his  age  is  almost  irrelevant.  One 
still  thinks  of  him  as  a  young  man, 
for  he  is  young  in  mind,  body  and 
appearance.  He  stands  several  good 
inches  over  six  feet;  he  is  straight  as 
a  lance  and  looks  out  imperiously 
above  most  men's  heads;  his  motions 
are  deliberate,  sure  and  strong;  he  is 
slender  but  very  firmly  knit  and  his 
tall  body  gives  you  the  impression 
that  he  is  built  primarily  for  tireless, 
steel-wire  endurance. 

In  my  first  meeting  with  him,  it  was 
his  steady,  passionless  steel-grey  eyes 
which  made  the  greatest  impression. 
They  are  shaded  by  thick  decisive 
beetle-brows,  and  are  curiously  pierc- 
ing— thoroughly  characteristic  of  the 
man.  His  face  is  brick-red  from  the 
scorching  Sudan  sun,  and  his  cheeks 
are  rather  full.  A  thick  moustache, 
rapidly  turning  grey,  scarcely  hides 
his  strong,  immovable  mouth.  You 
would  call  his  face  harsh.  It  neither 
appeals  for  affection  nor  stirs  dislike. 

Kitchener's  cold,  hard,  calculating 
character  has  left  him  curiously  friend- 
less while  he  has  carved  his  way  to  the 
head  of  the  British  army,  yet  even 
without  really  intimate  friends,  there 
is  not  a  single  man  in  the  whole 
British  Empire  who  will  not  respect 
and  admire  him.  His  character  may 
be  repellant  of  advances,  almost  in- 
human in  fact,  but  he  is  essentially 
a  man — and  therefore  admiration  and 
respect  are  his  by  right.  To  him 
soldiers  are  mere  pawns,  and  so  slaugh- 
ter does  not  shock  him,  for  after  all  it 
is  only  a  means  to  the  ultimate  goal. 
Yet,  he  is  by  no  means  a  hard  man, 
even  if  he  never  wastes  any  kindly 
glances.  He  has  no  nerves  and  no 
sympathies,  and  the  only  thing  he 
exacts  is  obedience.  No  officer  would 
ever  dream  of  arguing  with  him  or 
questioning  his  orders.  If  one  of  his 
subordinates  fails.  Kitchener  listens 
to  no  excuses  and  shows  no  mercy. 
He  is  himself  the  living  exponent  of 
hard  work,  and  he  brooks  no  half 
measures  in  others.     His  staff  and  the 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


m 


officers  of  his  army  must  do  exactly 
what  he  orders  and  at  the  time  he 
orders.  And  it  is  largely  due  to  his 
faculty  di  being'  able  to  select  such 
officers  for  service  under  him,  that  his 
own  success  has  been  unequalled. 
Those  who  have  worked  side  by 
side  with  him,  or  have  had  the  privilege 
of  serving  under  him,  cannot  imagine 
Kitchener  otherwise  than  as  seeing 
immediately  the  right  thing  to  do, 
and  then  doing  it  thoroughly  and  at 
once.  His  precision  has  always  been 
so  inhumanly  unerring  in  all  he  has 
undertaken,  that  he  is  more  like  a 
perfectly  tuned  machine  than  a  human 
being.  No  matter  in  what  walk  of 
life  his  career  had  taken  its  fling,  you 
feel  abundantly  sure  that  he  would 
have  been  something  more  than  a 
brilliant  success.  It  is  his  character- 
istic,   the   very    nature   of    the    man. 

gg  Si  m 

Why  the  Army  Has  Prayed  for  Kitch- 
ener to  Sweep  Out  the  War  Office. 

Some  few  years  ago  I  was  talking 
in  my  London  Club  to  one  of  his  able 
generals  of  the  Sudan,  and  the  course 
(){  conversation  naturally  led  to  a 
discussion  of  Kitchener.  Somehow 
those  fortunates  who  have  served  with 
him  like  to  talk  about  him.  They  may 
not  love  him,  as  loving  goes,  but  they 
give  him  a  whole-hearted  admiration 
and  loyalty  that  is  almost  sublime. 
In  their  eyes  there  is  no  man  like  him, 
and  who  can  blame  them?  I  happened 
to  remark  to  the  general  that  it  was 
fortunate  for  England  that  Kitchener 
had  chosen  a  military  career.  My 
friend  studied  me  critically  for  a  few 
minutes  without  speaking,  and  then 
delivered  himself  of  a  brief  eulogy  that 
will  long  remain  with  me — it  was  so 
essentially  true.  Furthermore,  he  was 
a  prophet  as  it  has  now  turned  out, 
although  neither  of  us  suspected  the 
wish  would  become  fact. 

"I've  watchefl  Kitchener  in  his 
office,  in  the  field  and  in  mess,"  ob- 
served tlie  general  slowly,  "and  he  is 
the  sort  of  fellow  that  ought  to.  be 
made  manager  of  a  big  business  enter- 
prise. He  would  be  a  splendid  nr<an- 
ager.  Yet,  I  nurse  a  hope — desperate, 
it  is  true, — that  he  may  some  day  be 
apptjinted  to  sweep  out  the  War  Office. 
He  would  be  an  even  better  manager 
of  the  War  Office  than  of  a  business. 
In  fact  he  would  be  a  magnificent 
manager  of  anything  under  the  sun." 

The  Son  of  a  Fighting  Irishman,  Soldier- 
ing Is  Bred  in  His  Blood. 

And  now  he  is  the  manager  of  the 
War  Office.  Curiously  enough,  I  do 
not  suppose  there  is  one  single  man, 
woman  or  child  in  the  British  Empire 
who  is  anything  but  glad  he  is  pulling 
.h-^  mtsings  from  Whitehall.     Everyone 


m 


Photograph  by  Underwood  O  Underwof>d 

KARL  KITCHBNBK  ARRIVING  AT   THE  WAR  OFPICB — NOTICE  THE  TENSE  INTBRBS 
OF    THE    WATCHERS 


88  «S 

has    faith     in    him     and    in    his 
superb  ability;  and  he  has  faitli 
in  him*;lf.  that  is  why  he  is  what 
he  is  to-day — the  idol,  with  justifi 
able  cause,  of  the  British  Army  and 
Empire. 

1 1  has  been  argued,  as  already  point- 
ed out,  that  he  has  had  nothing  but 
fighting  against  black  troops  and  the 
Boers  to  justify  the  assertion  that  he 
is  the  ablest  general  of  modern  times. 
This  is  scarcely  fair  n(jr  is  it  wholly 
logical.  If  you  closely  examine  his 
career,   you   will   see   how  eminently 


fitted  he  is  for  die  post  to  which  he 
has  just  been  appointed.  He  has 
had  forty-four  years  of  ac(ive 
service — active  in  the  correct  sense 
of  the  word,  for  Kitchener  is  neither 
a  "carpet-  soldier"  nor  4  "drawing- 
room  soldier."  His  carpets  have 
been  the  sands  of  the  Sudan  deserts, 
the  veldt  of  South  Africa,  and  the 
plains  and  hills  of  India;  his  drawing- 
rooms  have  been  the  white  tents  of 
military  camps  or  else  the  blue  dome 
of  a  tropical  sky.  One  can  crowd 
a    wealth    of   experience    into    forty- 


422 

four     years    of     constant     soldierihg 
and  fighting. 

f^  Being  an  .  Irishman — for  he  was 
bom  in  Ireland  and  is  the  son  of  an 
Irish  Colonel- — it  is  not  at  all  surprising 
that  he  should  have  chosen  a  military 
career.  But  he  is  something  more 
than  a  mere  soldier,  for  he  is  also  a 
great  engineer  and  an  even  greater 
administrator.  He  began  his  active 
life  at  the  Royal  Military  Academy  at 
Woolwich^ — affectionately  known  as 
"The  Shop" — and  while  there  saw 
service  as  a  volunteer  in  the  F"rench 
army  at  the  time  of  the  Franco- 
Prussian  war  of  1870-71,  taking  part 
in  a  considerable  amount  of  fighting 
under  General  Chapzy  and  in  the 
famous  Franc-Tireurs.  Already  a 
veteran  of  war,  he  received  his  com- 
mission in  the  Royal  Engineers — a 
soil  reported  generally  to  be  more 
favorable  to  machinery  than  to  human 
nature — and  early  turned  his  attentions 
to  the  study  of  and  service  in  the  Lev- , 
ant.  He  was  one  of  the  late  Lord 
Beaconsfield's  military  vice-consuls  in 
Asia  Minor. 

It  was  as  Captain  of  Engineers  in 
1883  that  he  appeared  at  the  beginning 
of  the  Sudan  troubles  and  made  one 
of  the  band  of  twenty-five  British 
officers  who  first  undertook  the  un- 
enviable task  of  making  the  new 
Egyptian  army.  It  was  from  this 
moment  that  he  turned  his  attention 
strictly  to  the  management  of  war  in 
the  Sudan,  and  to  this  day  he  is  the 
complete  and  only  master  of  that  most 
difficult  art.  He  has  been  in  Egypt 
ever  since,  with  the  brief  exceptions 
of  the  service  against  the  Boers  and 
seven  years  as  Commander-in-Chief 
of  India.  Until  appointed  War 
Minister,  he  was  Consul-General  and 
virtual  ruler  of  Egypt. 

These  years  found  him  on  the  staff 
generally,  in  the  field  constantly,  alone 
with  natives  often,  and  always  master- 
ing the  intricate  problems  of  the  Sudan. 
He  was  in  the  habit  of  disguising  him- 
self as  a  Dervish  and  journeying  across 
the  Sudan  desert  in  the  direction  of 
Khartoum,  hoping  to  gain  valuable 
information.  There  was  no  task  too 
severe,  and  his  holidays  were  spent  in 
work  of  a  more  difficult  and  dangerous 
character  than  when  on  duty.  He  has 
been  able  to  see  and  profit  by  the  errors 
of  others,  even  as  he  has  been  able  to 
profit  by  their  successes.  He  inher- 
ited the  wisdom  and  achievements  of 
his  predecessors,  for  he  came  at  the 
right  time  and  was  the  right  man. 

It  is  in  keeping  with  his  superb 
genius  that  he  so  characteristically 
bettered  the  original  idea  of  crossing 
the  Sudan  desert  by  way  of  Berber 
to  Khartoum  with  the  aid  of  camel 
transport,  by  substituting  a  railroad. 
It  was  his  stroke  of  insight  and  genius 
which  made  a  railroad  possible  where 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

almost  every  engineer  in  the  world 
claimed  it  was  not  feasible  to  con- 
struct one.  While  the  few  who  did  con- 
sider a  road  possible  were  projecting 
it,  Kitchener  and  his  staff  built  it. 
An  instance  of  his  indomitable  will 
is  to  be  found  in  the  circumstance  of 
his  resignation  as  Sirdar  when  the 
young  Khedive  travelled  through  the 
Sudan  and  insulted  every  British 
officer  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 
Kitchener  promptly  resigned,  a  crisis 
arose,  and  the  Khedive  was  forced  to 
do  penance  publicly  for  his  insolence 
by  issuing  a  general  order  praising 
the  discipline  of  the  army  and  its 
British  officers.  Kitchener  never 
afterwards  let  the  Khedive  forget  who 
was  master. 

mm  ss 

Explanations  are  Never  Asked  or  Given 
When  Kitchener  Commands 

During  all  his  years  of  preparation 
in  the  Sudan,  the  man  Kitchener 
disappeared.  He  owns  the  affection- 
ate admiration  of  all  old  comrades  of 
fifteen  years'  standing  and  more;  he 
may  even  hold  the  affection  of  private 
friends  in  England.  For  the  rest  of 
the  world  there  is  no  man  Herbert 
Kitchener,  but  only  the  infallible  gener- 
al. His  officers  and  men  are  mere  wheels 
in  the  general  machine;  he  feeds  them 
enough  to  make  them  efficient,  and 
works  them  quite  as  mercilessly  as  he 
works  himself.  He  will  have  no 
married  officers  on  his  staff — marriage 
interferes  with  work.  He  is  a  woman- 
hater  of  woman-haters.  His  creed  is 
that  no  soldier  should  ever  marry, 
for  by  doing  so  he  lessens  his  efficiency. 
It  is  a  harsh  creed,  but  it  is  a  sound  one. 
In  Egypt  during  his  tenure  of  office 
as  Sirdar,  an  officer  went  on  sick  leave 
once,  and  the  next  time  it  was  neces- 
sary, the  Egyptian  army  no  longer 
bore   him   on   its   strength. 

Once  he  remarked  in  reply  to  a 
question  as  to  why  he  did  not  let  his 
officers  go  to  Cairo  on  leave,  "If  it 
were  to  go  home,  where  they  could 
get  fit  and  well,  I'd  let  them,  for  I 
could  get  more  work  out  of  them. 
But  why  should  I  let  them  go  to  Cairo 
to  frivol  their  time?"  It  may  be 
unamiable,  but  it  is  war — and  it 
certainly    has   a   severe   magnificence. 

It  was  the  same  in  the  Boer  war. 
Unexpectedly  he  arrived  at  Cape 
Town  one  day  and  found  a  number  of 
officers  loafing  on  leave  in  the  sunshine 
of  the  smiles  of  fair  ladies  in  the  Mount 
Nelson  Hotel.  That  night  most  of 
them  returned  to  their  regiments  at 
the  front  or  else  left  for  home  on  sick 
leave.  He  went  to  each  and  every 
officer  and  inquired  what  was  wrong 
with  him;  if  not  seriously  ill  the  ne.xt 
question  asked  was  the  location  of  his 
regiment.  Then  came  the  abrupt, 
curt  order  to  return  at  once.     There 


was  no  explanation  asked  or  offered. 
There  never  is  with  Kitchener. 

In  Pretoria,  when  I  was  Head- 
quarters' Staff  Officer  for  Transport, 
an  order  was  issued  that  no  officer 
was  to  play  polo  on  a  government 
charger.  I  used  to  play  polo  every 
afternoon  on  my  private  ponies, 
riding  on  my  charger  to  the  race- 
course where  the  polo  field  was  sit- 
uated. One  afternoon  I  happened 
to  be  dribbli'ng  a  polo  ball  as  I  nxie 
towards  the  pavilion,  while  my  private 
ponies  were  being  led  along  behind 
me.  Kitchener  and  his  staff  appeared 
on  the  scene  and  rode  directly  up  to  me. 

"You  know  the  army  order  about 
playing  polo  on  government  horses?" 
he  asked  severely,  his  eyes  cold  and 
expressionless. 

"Yes,    Sir!"    I    answered,    saluting. 

"Where    is    your    regiment    now?" 

"Standerton,    Sir!" 

"Rejoin  to-night!"  came  the  curt 
order,  and,  scarcely  wailing  for  my 
salute,  he  wheeled  his  horse  and  rode 
on  his  way.  And  so  ended  my  career 
as  transport  staff  officer  for  the 
Commander-in-Chief.  It  was  a  little 
thing,  one  easily  explained,  and  the 
incident  may  appear  to  savor  of  being 
over-harsh.  But  that  is  Kitchener's 
way.  You  must  toe  the  line  without 
deviation — otherwise  your  head  will 
fall.  Somehow  I  have  always  ad- 
mired him  for  that. 

Another  thing  that  showed  the 
strength  of  the  man  and  his  strict  sense 
of  the  fitness  of  things — in  Pretoria 
there  were  many  leakages  concerning 
the  movements  of  convoys  and  columns, 
owing  to  the  indiscretion  of  young 
officers  who  admired  fair  Boer  ladies 
or  their  women  sympathisers.  Not 
one  single  case  got  by  Kitchener 
and  his  staff,  and  the  guilty  man 
paid  dearly  for  his  thoughtlessness. 
There  was  not  a  thing  that  occurred 
in  Pretoria  that  Kitchener  did  not 
know  immediately.  As  an  instance 
of  this  one  morning  I  called  at  the 
Pretoria  Club  about  nine  o'clock  on 
my  way  back  to  my  transport  camp. 
No  one  was  in  the  club  except  the 
servants,  and  I  tarried  only  a  few 
minutes.  Yet,  fifteen  minutes  later 
when  I  reached  my  camp,  I  was  warned 
over  the  telephone  by  Kitchener's 
aide-de-camp  against  repeating  the 
incident.  The  club  was  not  for 
officers  until  their  day's  work  had  been 
fully  performed. 

If  you  suppose  for  one  single  moment 
that  Kitchener  is  unpopular,  you  are 
very  much  mistaken.  No  general  is 
unpopular  who  always  beats  the  enemy. 
Kitchener  has  never  yet  led  an  army 
to  defeat.  When  the  columns  of 
Kitchener's  army  leave  camp  in 
the  evening  to  march  all  night 
through  the  dense  darkness,  the}'  know 
not  whither,  and  to  fight  at  dawn  with 


an  enemy  they  have  never  seen,  every 
man  goes  forth  with  a  tranquil  mind. 
Personally,  he  may  never  come  back, 
on  the  other  hand  he  may;  but  about 
the  general  result  there  is  never  a  doubt. 
You  can  bet  your  last  cent  Kitchener 
knows;  he  is  not  made  of  the  stuff 
that  will  fight  unless  he  is  sure  of 
winning  the  battle.  Other  generals 
have  most  surely  been  better  loved — 
Lord  Roberts  for  instance — but  none 
was  ever  better  trusted. 

I  have  always  heard  it  said  by  those 
who  have  known  him  longest  and  most 
intimatel}',  that  the  hero  of  Omdurman 
has  never  purged  himsself  of  one  human 
weakness.  Of  all  others  he  has  most 
certainly  done  .so.  His  one  weak- 
ness— if  it  is  a  weakness,  which  I  very 
much  doubt — is  ambition. 

Kitchener's  ambition,  even  if 
apparently  purely  personal,  has  been 
legitimate  and  lofty.  He  has  attained 
eminent  distinction  at  an  e.xception- 
ally  early  age;  he  has  commanded 
victorious  armies  when  most  men  are 
hoping  to  command  regiments;  he 
has  commanded  an  .army  in  South 
Africa  such  as  few  of  his  seniors  have 
ever  led  in  the  field ;  and  he  has  been 
charged  with  a  mission  that  any  one 
of  them  would  have  greedily  accepted. 
He  has  risen  rapidly  above  the  heads 
of  most  of  his  seniors  until  he  had  no 
more  to  climb  over;  he  has  commanded 
the  great  Indian  army,  and  rumor 
has  it  that  his  eyes  are  set  on  the 
Viceroy's  job  in  India.  He  has  held 
Cromer's  position  in  Egypt,  and  he  has 
acquitted  himself  as  only  Kitchener 
could. 

Naturally  he  has  awakened  jealous- 
ies, but  he  has  bought  his  rapid  rise 
only  by  brilliant  success  in  every  task 
he  has  undertaken.  If  he  is  not  so 
stiffly  unbending  to  the  high  as  he  is 
to  the  low,  who  can  blame  him?  He 
has  climbed  far  too  high  not  to  take 
every  precaution  against  a  fall.  He 
has  risked  a  fall  several  times — once 
in  the  incident  with  the  Khedive,  once 
when  he  forced  Curzon  to  resign  from 
the  Viccroyalty  of  India.  But  he  has 
always  been  sure  of  himself,  and  he 
was  always  in  the  right.  And  he  had 
made  himself  so  utterly  indispcnsiible 
that  he  could  not  be  sacrificed. 

@  ss  ss 

When  Kitchener  Stood  in  Gordon's 

Ruined  Garden  and  for  Once 

Was  Moved 

'VUv\  Iraid    of    him    at    t he- 

War  OflKe,  for  they  know  he  is 
their  master  and  would  stand  for 
no  nonsense,  but  now  in  the  time  of 
England's  need  they  have  been  forctxl 
to  give  him  what  he  has  hungered 
for — the  sui)reme  command  and  the 
chance  to  show  his  e.xccutivc  abilitv- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

He  has  sifted  experience  and  cor^ 
rected  errors;  has  worked  al:  small 
things  and  waited  patiently  for  great; 
has  been  marble  to  sit  still  and  fire  to 
smite;  and  always  he  has  been  stead- 
fast, cold  and  inflexible.  He  has  cut 
out  his  human  heart  and  made  him- 
self the  world's  greatest  military  leader 
— a  machine  of  terrific  power  in  war. 
They  said  of  him  in  the  Sudan  that  he 
could  break  a  man's  heart  with  curt 
censure,  and  exalt  another  to  heaven 
with  curt  praise.  They  also  say  of 
him  in  the  Sudan  that  he  showed  the 
first  and  only  sign  of  emotion  in  his 
career  when  he  stood  in  Gordon's 
ruined  garden  to  receive  the  congrat- 
ulations of  his  officers  on  his  brilliant 
ending  to  a  fifty  years'  war.  They 
say  he  could  hardly  see  or  speak  as 
his  officers  shook  him  by  the  hand. 
What  wonder?  He  stood  then  at  his 
goal  after  fourteen  years  of  hardships 
and   indomitable   plugging. 

I  once  had  the  chance  to  see  Lord 
Roberts  and  Lord  Kitchener  together. 
It  was  in  Bloemfontein  just  after  its 
occupation  by  the  British  forces.  It 
was  simply  impossible  to  refrain  from 
comment   upon   the  striking  contrast. 

I  was  discussing  the  two  men,  some 
months  later,  with  a  locomotive- 
engineer  on  the  railroad, 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  said,  "Bobs  and 
Kitchener  comes  along  sometimes. 
My  colonial  aunt,  y'  ought  to  see  the 
difference  in  the  stations,  though  ! 
W'en  Bobs'  train  pulls  up,  he  gets  out 
an'  strolls  along  the  platform,  an' 
everybody  knocks  off  work  so's  to 
come  up  an'  have  a  look  afhim.  He 
jes'  walks  about  among  the  crowd, 
talkin'  to  'em  like  me  an'  you  would. 
Asks  'em  how  they're  gettin'  on  for 
rations,  an'  so  on.  'Course  he's  never 
familiar,  or  anything  like  that — y'  can 
alwaj's  see's  he's  Boss — an'  if  he 
notices  anything  wrong  he  lets  'em 
know  quick  an'  lively — but  he  seems 
to  be  more  of  a  friend  to  everybody 
than  anything  else. 

"But  when  'Herbert'  steps  out  of 
his  coach  there's  hardly  a  soul  to  be 
seen  on  the  platform — they're  all  away 
diggin'  trenches,  or  mountin'  guns, 
or  scoutin'  roun'  the  country — any 
bles.sed  thing,  as  Icmg  as  he  finds  'em 
workin'.  Lord  'elp  them  if  they  ain't ! 
W'y  I  believe  if  Kitchener  was  to  be 
given  command  of  heaven's  gates  he'd 
jes'  as  soon  'Stellenbosch'  Peter,  spile 
of  all  his  long  services,  sup[)osin'  he 
caught  him  nappin'  any  warm  after- 
noon!" 

They  said  of  Kitchener  at  Paardeberg 
that  he  begge<l  and  pleaded  with  Lord 
Roberts  to  shell  Cronje's  laager  despite 
the  presence  of  the  IJoer  women  and 
children,  but  Roberts  would  not  hear 
of  it.     Kitchener  is  credited  with  hav- 


423 

ing  remarked  on  this  occasion  that 
"cruelty  in  war  was  mercy,  and  that 
mercy  was  cruelty."  If  you  stop  to 
think  this  out  yourself,  you  will  agree 
that  although  appearing  inhuman,  it  is 
yet  real  humanity.  To  end  things  quick- 
ly and  so  save  the  greater  suffering  of 
protracted  warfare  is  true  mercy  in  the 
end. 

@  @  88 

Give  Kitchener  a  Free  Hand — And  If 
You  Don't.  He'll  Take  It 

Give  Kitchener  a  free  hand — and  if  you 
don't  give  it  to  him  he'll  take  it — a^d  he 
will  make  order  out  of  chaos  in  a  few 
weeks.  The  speed  with  which  Sir 
John  French's  Expediticmary  Force 
of  100,000  men  landed  in  Belgium  and 
joined  hands  with  the  Allies  is  alone  a 
proof  of  Kitchener's  ability.  Before 
this  war  is  ended  there  will  be  other 
and  greater  proofs. 

I  have  said  that  though  not  loved, 
he  is  admired  and  trusted  by  the 
whole  army.  The  same  may  be  said 
of  the  people.  I  had  striking  proof 
of  this  in  1910  at  the  time  of  the  late 
King  Edward's  funeral.  I  saw  Kit- 
chener and  his  staff  ride  from  Bucking- 
ham Palace  to  Westminster  Hall  just 
Ix'fore  the  procession  started  on  its 
mournful  journey  through  London. 
The  crowd  burst  into  a  wild  cheer  of 
delight  as  they  saw  him.  His  cold, 
sphinx-like  face  turned  upon  them  and 
the  cheers  were  hushed  instantly.  To 
Kitchener  the  applause  of  the  crowds 
meant  nothing  but  an  unseemly  demon- 
stration. He  knows  he  has  deserved 
well  of  the  people,  but  his  self-satis- 
faction in  having  achiev'ed,  is  what 
counts  with  him.  It  was  the  same 
when  I  saw  him  lead  his  victorious 
army  through  London  on  his  return 
from  the  conquest  of  the  Sudan. 

Another  striking  proof  of  his  in- 
domitable will  and  powers  of  organ- 
ization, if  another  proof  is  necessary, 
was  given  when  he  t<K)k  command  of 
the  Coronation  arrangements  in  Lon- 
don at  the  time  of  King  George's 
accession.  Many  people  comfjlained  of 
the  rigorous  penning  in  of  the  crowds, 
of  the  barricades,  and  the  closing  of 
the  streets — but  it  was  superbly 
handled  and  there  were  no  mishaps. 

So  it  is  that  the  British  Empire 
rejoices  and  is  unafraid  now  that  they 
know  Kitchener  of  Kartoum  is  the 
iron  will  that  will  steer  England  through 
her  time  of  trial.  His  is  an  unen\  iable 
task,  but  one  thing  everyone  can  be 
positive  of  and  that  is  that  he  will  not 
fail  when  it  is  humanly  pos.sible  to 
succeed.  He  is  a  great  sf)ldier,  he 
would  be  a  great  king — but  as  Secre- 
tary of  State  for  War  he  will  be  incom- 
parable. 


424 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


This  department  is  under  the  direction  of  "  Kit "  who  under  this  familiar  pen 
name  has  endeared  herself  to  Canadian  women  from  Belle  Isle  to  Victoria.  Every 
month  she  will  contribute  sparkling  bits  of  gossip,  news  and  sidelights  on  life  as 
seen  through  a  woman's  eyes. 

service.  Germany  has  been  building 
her  mighty  and  unwieldy  war  machine, 
Russia  has  reorganized  and  equipped 
her  army  and  England  has  each  year 
appropriated  immense  sums  for  the 
building  of  Dreadnoughts.  All  this 
has  brought  about  a  tension  that 
had  to  have  relief  or  burst. 

It  must  either  be  "a  let  down  or  a 
fight."  Well,  we  know  now  what 
happened. 

And  here  is  the  other  great  cause — 
hatred.  We  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  there  is  no  such  bond  as 
the  Brotherhood  of  Man.  That  is'  a 
romantic  flight,  on  some  editors'  and 
preachers'  part— or  the  poetic  effusion 
of  some  maker  of  songs.  We  have 
cultivated  hatred  and  are  doing  it 
to-day.  The  mildest  of  Canadian 
middle  aged  gentleman  remarked  to 
us  the  other  day  that  "he  wished  he 
could  snipe  one  German  before  he 
died  if  it  were  only  his  barber." 

"But  my  dear  sir,  the  poor  barber  ! 
What  has  he  to  do  with  it  ?" 

"He's  a  German,  that's  all.  Sus- 
annah, get  me  my  boots." 

Susannah  came  running.  "Yes  sir, 
yes  sir.  Here  they  are,  sir.  And 
there's  a  man  at  the  back  door  wants 
yer  hammer.  I  think  he's  one  of 
them  Germans,  sir,  the  boy  from  the 
barber's,  sir,  with  your  seegars." 

"Donner-und-blitzen!  Raus  mit 
him!"  cried  the  middle-aged  gentle- 
man, scuffling  with  his  shoes.  "Throw 
him  out  of   the  window,   Susannah." 

Susannah  ran  to  do  his  commission. 
But  the  barber's  boy  had  flown.  On 
the  floor  were  the  cigars  wrapped  in  a 
German  paper.  On  which  the  middle- 
aged  gentleman  presently  wiped  his 
boots,  which  so  mollified  him  that  he 
lighted  his  smoke  and  sat  down  to 
read  about  the  staggering  coolness  of 
the  British  infantrv  at  the  battle  of 
Mons. 


OFF  TO  THE  FRONT 

r^ANADA  MONTHLY,  like  the 
spirited  magazine  it  is,  is  right  on 
the  firing  line,  and  perforce  the  Pedlar 
has  to  go  with  it,  though  what  that 
poor  Autolycus  can  be  doing  there 
with  his  unconsidered  trifles,  the  pow- 
ers that  be  alone  know. 

Moreover,  the  Man  at  the  Cross- 
roads, for  pure  divilment  insists  on 
accompanying  him.  "I'll  beguile  the 
way  for  ye,"  he  says,  "with  many  a 
good  war  story,  for  I  was  sojering  in 
my  day  along  with  Robert  Blatchford 
and  many  another  good  man  in 
barracks  whin  Kipling  was  young," 
he  says,  "and  turning  out  copy  he 
couldn't  sell,"  he  says,  "though  it  was 
better  stuff  than  anything  th'  ould 
man  is  giving  us  to-day." 

So  we  are  off  to  the  front  with  the 
rest  of  the  boys,  though — thanking 
you  kindly  for  the  opportunity — it  is 
our  intention  to  camp  as  far  in  the 
rear  as  we  can  and  smoke  our  pipes 
within   sound   of   war   but   not   of   it. 

We  thought  we  were  on  the  retired 
list,  accounting  ourselves  somewhat 
as  veterans,  but  duty  calls  and  here 
we  are  on  the  march  once  more. 

WAR,  THE  CHILD  OF  JEALOUSY 
AND  HATE 

prVERY  theory  as  to  the  cause  of, 
the  reason  for,  this  terrible  war 
has  been  advanced.  There  have  been 
learned  and  lengthy  editorials,  letters 
from  Pro  Bono  Publico  and  his  legion 
of  relatives  and  articles  by  experts  on 
militarism.  But  it  seems  to  us  that 
the  best  and  indeed  simplest  explana- 
tion is  the  jealousy  and  suspicion 
which  have  kept  the  nations  for  j^ears 
arming  for  this  Armageddon  until 
military  competition  had  every  nation 
on  tiptoe.  Since  the  Franco-Prussian 
war,  France  has  been  nursing  her 
hatred   and   augmenting   her   military 


THE  LUST  OP  WAR 

JEALOUSY  and  hatred.  These  are 
J  the  fomenters  of  war.  There  was 
a  time  when  we  had  thought  that  it 
was  Love  that  swung  the  world's 
pendulum.  We  even  wrote  fatuously 
about  it.  But  to-day  Hate  seems  to 
be  the  powerful  lever  that  pushes  the 
world's  clock.  Carefully  nursed  and 
exploited  hate  of  the  same  brand  that 
makes  vendetta  in  Sicily,  partyism  in 
politics  and  war  with  the  whole  world. 

The  lust  of  war  is  frightful.  It 
gets  into  men's  bones  and  the  very 
marrow  of  their  bones.  The  leash  of 
ci\'ilization  is  off.  Here  is  license  for 
blood  shedding  and  rapine  and  wreck- 
ing and  not  all  the  progress  of  the  ages, 
not  all  the  religion  in  the  world,  not 
even  the  Christ  hanging  again  upon  his 
Cross  will  stop  it  as  long  as  nations 
arm  themselves  in  a  very  frenzy  of 
militarism,  as  long  as  Hate  is  encour- 
aged and  bred  into  the  very  children, 
as  long  as  barbarous  patriotism  is 
cultivated. 

We  are  beasts,  after  all. 

MARKfMANSHIP 
""T^HAT'S  a  great  spiel,  ye  got  off," 
said  the  Man  at  the  Crossroads, 
as  we  journeyed  together  down  to 
Valcartier.  "You're  a  fine  one  for 
preaching,,  but  Pedlar,  me  boy,  though 
you  were  wance  in  the  rear  of  a  sham 
fight  on  San  Juan  Hill,  'tis  little  you 
know  about  the  real  thing.  And  the 
first  of  it  is  the  drilling.  Kitchener 
knows  that,  and  he's  going  to  take  no 
chances  on  sending  young  Canadian 
raws  to  the  front  till  he  has  them  train- 
ed to  a  hair.  One  good  thing  the  Boer 
war  did;  it  killed  volley-firing.  There 
wasn't  an  officer  but  thought  volley 
firing  the  normal  thing  in  action,  and 
independent  firing  was  a  forbidden 
thing.  (I  noticed,  though,  that  the 
Canadians  went  in  for  it  a  good  bit 
out  there  on  the  veldt.)  No  more 
than  a  few  officers  are  good  marksmen. 
And  a  bad  shot  in  war  time  is  as  use- 
less as  a  blind  kitten.  It's  the  good 
shooting  wins  the  battles  and  if  every 
bullet  found  its  billet  the  war  would 
be  over  in  two  months." 

THE  BULLET  AND  THE  BILLET 
AS  a  matter  of  fact,  most  of  the 
■^  bullets  fired  in  actual  warfare  are 
billeted  nowhere.  Even  at  the  present 
day,  taking  into  account  the  immensely 
increased  precision  and  deadliness  of 
firearms,  and  the  improvement  in 
rifles,  the  ratio  borne  by  the  numbers 
of  the  killed  and  wounded  to  the  num- 
ber of  bullets  fired  must  be  very  small. 
Not  so  long  since  Lord  Roberts  said 
that  if  the  British  soldier  could  be  so 
trained  as  to  make  it  certain  that  one 
shot  in  twenty  "got  home"  our  army 
might  be  pronounced  five  times  as 
formidable  as  any  Continental  army 
Continued  on  page  434. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


425 


What  and  Why  is  the 
Internal  Bath? 


By  C.  GILBERT  PERCIVAL,  M.D. 


Though  many  articles  have  been  written 
and  much  has  been  said  recently  about  the 
Internal  Bath,  the  fact  remains  that  a  great 
amount  of  ignorance  and  misunderstanding  of 
this  new  system  of  Physical  Hygiene  still  exists. 

And,  inasmuch  as  it  seems  that  Internal 
Bathing  is  even  more  essential  to  perfect  health 
than  External  Bathing,  I  believe  that  every- 
one should  know  its  origin,  its  purpose  and  its 
action  beyond  the  possibility  of  a  misunder- 
standing. 

Its  great  popularity  started  at  about  the 
same  time  as  did  what  are  probably  the  most 
encouraging  signs  of  recent  times — I  refer  to 
the  appeal  for  Optimism,  Cheerfulness,  Effici- 
ency and  those  attributes  which  go  with  them, 
and  which,  if  steadily  practiced,  will  make 
our  race  not  only  the  despair  of  nations  com- 
petitive to  us  in  business,  but  establish  us  as  a 
shining  example  to  the  rest  of  the  world  in  our 
mode  of  living. 

These  new  daily  "Gospels,"  as  it  were,  had 
as  their  inspiration  the  ever-present,  uncon- 
querable Canadian  Ambition,  for  it  had  been 
proven  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  real  students 
of  business  that  the  most  successful  man  is 
he  who  is  sure  of  himself,  who  is  optimistic, 
cheerful,  and  impresses  the  world  with  the 
fact  that  he  is  supremely  confident  always — ■ 
for  the  world  of  business  has  every  confidence 
in  the  man  who  has  confidence  in  himself. 

If  our  outlook  is  optimistic,  and  our  con- 
fidence strong,  it  naturally  follows  that  we 
inject  enthusiasm,  "ginger"  and  clear  judg- 
ment into  our  work,  and  have  a  tremendous 
advantage  over  those  who  are  at  times  more 
or  less  depressed,  blue,  and  nervously  fearful 
that  their  judgment  may  be  wrong — who  lack 
the  confidence  that  comes  with  the  right  con- 
dition of  mind,  and  which  counts  so  much  for 
success. 

Now  the  practice  of  Optimism  and  Confi- 
dence has  made  great  strides  in  improving  and 
advancing  the  general  efficiency  of  the  Can- 
adian, and  if  the  mental  attitude  necessary  to 
its  accomplishment  were  easy  to  secure,  com- 
plete success  would  be  ours. 

Unfortunately,  however,  our  physical  bodies 
have  an  influence  on  our  mental  attitude,  and 
in  this  particular  instance,  because  of  a  physical 
condition  which  is  universal,  these  much-to- 
bc-desired  aids  to  success  are  impossible  to 
consistently  enjoy. 

In  other  words,  our  trouble,  to  a  great 
degree,  is  physical  first  and  mental  afterwards 
— this  physical  trouble  is  simple  and  very  e^isily 
correctwi.     Yet  it  seriously  afTects  our  strength 


and  energy,  and  if  it  is  allowed  to  exist  too 
long  becomes  chronic,  and  then  dangerous. 

Nature  is  constantly  demanding  one  thing 
of  usf  which,  under  our  present  mode  of  living 
and  eating,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  give — that 
is,  a  constant  care  of  our  diet,  and  enough  con- 
sistent physical  work  or  exercise  to  eliminate 
all  waste  from  the  system. 

If  our  work  is  confining,  as  it  is  in  almost 
every  instance,  our  systems  cannot  throw  off 
the  waste  except  according  to  our  activity, 
and  a  clogging  process  immediately  sets  in. 

This  waste  accumulates  in  the  colon  (lower 
intestine),  and  is  more  serious  in  its  effect  than 
you  would  think,  because  it  is  intensely 
poisonous,  and  the  blood  circulating  through 
the  colon  absorbs  these  poisons,  circulating 
them  through  the  system,  and  lowering  our 
vitality  generally. 

That's  the  reason  that  biliousness  and  its 
kindred  complaints  make  us  ill  "all  over."  It 
is  also  the  reason  that  this  waste,  if  permitted 
to  remain  a  little  too  long,  gives  the  destructive 
germs,  which  are  always  present  in  the  blood, 
a  chance  to  gain  the  upper  hand,  and  we  are 
not  alone  ineflicient;  but  really  ill — seriously, 
sometimes,  if  there  is  a  local  weakness. 

This  accumulated  waste  has  long  been  re- 
garded as  a  menace,  and  Physicians,  Physi- 
culturists.  Dietitians,  Osteopaths  and  others 
have  been  constantly  laboring  to  perfect  a 
method  of  removing  it,  and  with  partial  and 
temporary  success. 

It  remained,  however,  for  a  new,  rational, 
and  perfectly  natural  process  to  finally  and 
satisfactorily  eliminate  this  waste  from  the 
colon  without  strain  or  unnatural  forcing — to 
keep  it  sweet  and  clean  and  healthy,  and  keep 
us  correspondingly  bright  and  strong — clearing 
the  blood  of  the  poisons  which  make  it  and  us 
sluggish  and  dull-spirited,  and  making  our 
entire  organism  work  and  act  as  Nature  intend- 
ed it  should. 

That  process  is  Internal  Bathing  with  warm 
water— and  it  now,  by  the  way,  has  the  endorse- 
ment of  the  most  enlightened  Physicians, 
Physical  Culturists,  Osteopaths,  etc.,  who  have 
tried  it  and  seen  its  results. 

Heretofore  it  has  been  our  habit,  when  we 
have  found  by  disagreeable  and  sometimes 
alarming  symptoms,  that  this  waste  was  get- 
ting much  the  better  of  us,  to  repair  to  the 
drug  shop  and  obtain  relief  through  drugging. 

This  is  partly  effectual,  but  there  are  several 
vital  reasons  why  it  should  not  be  our  practice 
as  compared  with  Internal  Bathing. 

Drugs  force  Nature  instead  of  assisting  her 


- — Internal  Bathing  assists  Nature  and  is  just 
as  simple  and  natural  as  washing  one's  hands. 

Drugs,  being  taken  through  the  stomach, 
sap  the  vitality  of  other  functions  before  they 
reach  the  colon,  which  is  not  called  for — Inter- 
nal Bathing  washes  out  the  colon  and  reaches 
nothing  else.  , 

To  keep  the  colon  constantly  clean,  drugs 
must  be  persisted  in,  and  to  be  effective  the 
doses  must  be  increased.  Internal  Bathing  is 
a  consistent  treatment,  and  need  never  be 
altered  in  any  way  to  be  continuously  effective. 

No  less  an  authority  than  Professor  Clark, 
M.D.,  of  the  New  York  College  of  Physicians 
and  Surgeons,  says: — "All  of  our  curative 
agents  are  poisons,  and  as  a  consequence  every 
dose  diminishes  the  patient's  vitality." 

It  is  rather  remarkable  to  find,  at  what 
would  seem  so  comparatively  late  <a  day,  so 
great  an  improvement  on  the  old  methods  of 
Internal  Bathing  as  this  new  process,  for  in  a 
crude  way  it  has,  of  course,  been  practised  for 
years. 

It  is  probably  no  more  surprising,  however, 
than  the  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  Medical 
Profession  to  depart  further  and  further  from 
the  custom  of  using  drugs,  and  accomplish 
the  same  and  better  results  by  more  natural 
means,  causing  less  strain  on  the  system,  and 
leaving  no  evil  after-effects. 

Doubtless  you,  as  well  as  other  Canadian 
men  and  women,  are  interested  in  knowing  all 
that  may  be  learned  about  keeping  up  to  "con- 
cert pitch,"  and  always  feeling  bright  and  con- 
fident. 

This  improved  system  of  Internal  Bathing 
is  naturally  a  rather  difficult  subject  to  cover 
in  detail  in  the  public  press,  but  there  is  a 
physician  who  has  m»de  this  his  life's  study 
and  work,  who  has  written  an  Interesting  book 
on  the  subject  called  "  Why  Man  of  To-day 
Is  Only  50%  Efficient."  This  he  will  send 
on  request  to  anyone  addressing  Charles 
A.  Tyrrell,  M.D.,  Room  319,  280  College 
street,  Toronto,  and  mentioning  that  they 
have  read  this  in  The  Canada  Monthly. 

It  is  surprising  how  little  is  known  by  the 
average  person  on  this  subject,  which  has  so 
great  an  influence  on  the  general  health  and 
spirits. 

My  personal  experience  and  my  observa- 
tions make  me  very  enthusiastic  on  Internal 
Bathing,  for  I  have  seen  its  results  in  sickness 
as  in  health,  and  I  firmly  believe  that  every- 
body owes  it  to  himself,  if  only  for  the  informa- 
tion available,  to  read  this  little  book  by  an 
.liitlwiritv   nn  thr  *iubtoct. 


426 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A  25-Cent  Size. 

Quaker 

Oats  is  put  up  in  both  the  large 

25-cent 

package 

and  the 

lO-cent  size. 

The  larger  size  saves  buying 

so  often 

— saves 

running 

out 

Try  it 

—see  how  long  it  lasts. 

ade  ImiYitmg 

A  Giant  Food  with  a  Fairy  Flavor 

Quaker  Oats  is  vim-food  made  delightful.  Nature  stores 
in  every  dish  a  battery  of  energy.  We  make  it  welcome — 
make  it  desirable — so  children  eat  it  liberally  and  often. 

That's  why  Quaker  Oats — all  the  world  over — holds  the 
dominant  place  among  foods  The  peoples  of  a  hundred 
nations  send  here  now  to  get  it.  They  want  this  food — the 
supreme  source  of  vitality — with  this  luscious  Quaker  flavor. 


The  big,  white  flakes  are  made 
of  only  the  richest,  plumpest 
grains.  No  puny  grains  are  in  it. 
Our  process  brings  out  a  match- 
less taste  and  aroma,  making  a 
winsome  dish. 


Children  and  grown-ups — who 
all  need  vim — -revel  in  Quaker 
Oats.  See  that  they  get  it.  Say 
"Quaker"  when  you  order.  It 
costs  no  extra  price. 


lOc  and  25c  per  Package 
Except  in  Far  West. 


(685) 


Washing  Behind 
Toronto  s  Ears 

Continued  from  page  406. 

the  Inspector  in  the  tone  of  one  de- 
manding marriage-lines  at  the  very 
least. 

There  it  was.  But,  oh,  horribile 
dictul — it  had  parsley  planted  in  it 
and  the  stuff  it  should  have  contained 
was  in  a  peach  basket  of  ancient  date. 

The  lady  of  the  house  apologized 
with  both  hands,  her  tongue  being 
still  in  Poland.  Her  halfgrown  son 
apologized  after  her.  But  it  was  to 
no  purpose.  Like  a  sorrowfully  de- 
termined avenging  angel,  the  Inspector 
seized  an  axe  and  herself  demolished 
the  peach  basket.  That  was  enough. 
Poland  did  the  rest  and  will  doubtless 
continue  to  do  so,  even  though  it 
doesn't  know  why.  It  is  an  Order 
from  the  Health  Department. 

At  the  next  house  we  learned  of 
Hannah,  who  it  seemed  had  died  some 
time  since  in  the  police  station,  leav^ing 
her  earthly  belongings  on  Centre 
Avenue  with  the  deponent  now  depon- 
ing. Would  the  Inspector  find  out 
what  should  be  done? 

Sure,  the  Inspector  would.  Hannah 
was  no  more  in  her  province  than  was 
Lily  sitting  next  door,  out  of  work, 
and  reading  the  fortunes  of  the  Duch- 
ess of  Kingdomkum,  but  the  Inspector 
is  the  friend  of  her  people  and  every- 
where she  can  get  in  a  little  word  for 
them  she  does  it.  She  mayn't  be  able 
to  help  Lily  away  from  the  Duchess 
and  the  dangers  of  coveting  replicas 
of  her  jewelry,  but  she  will  if  she  can. 

"Gardens  were  my  next  fad,"  she 
said  to  the  reporter  as  the  two  got 
under  way  once  more.  "I'll  show 
you  some." 

A  knock  on  the  open  door  was  suffi- 
cient announcement.  The  three 
holidaying  Dago  construction-hands 
looked  up  from  their  cards  with  three 
welcoming  grins  and  the  landlady  of 
the  lodging  house  conducted  the  in- 
vestigators upstairs  and  down. 

"Clean-a,  so-o  clean-a!"  she 
smiled,  illustrating  her  previous  efforts 
with  the  broom. 

"You  may  think  the  sheets  aren't 
very  'clean-a'  even  now,"  said  the 
Inspector,  "but  when  I  began  the 
Ward  hadn't  heard  of  sheets  or  pillow 
cases  either.  Now  you  see  they  have 
both.  I  don't  believe  there's  a  house 
without  them,  except  maybe  some 
Poles  that  are  just  out.  And  when 
they  get  them,  they  do  try  to  keep 
them  clean." 

It  was  when  we  arrived  at  the  gar- 
den however,  that  the  little  Italian's 
pride  bubbled  over. 

Straight  up  to  her  green  tomatoes 
she  walked  her  guests. 

"Ni-ica,    oh    ni-ica,"    she    crooned, 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


427 


lifting  each  little  hard  nubbin  tenderly 
in  two  hands.  I«(!i^i*ttlift  1^'^.   . 

Every  vegetable  was  an  exhibit. 
Each  stalk  of  com  was  a  pilgrimage 
spot.  At  the  parsley  she  stopped  and 
picked  each  visitor  a  bunch.  The 
reporter  ate  some  of  hers  to  show  there 
was  no  bad  feeling  and  the  gardener 
seemed  vastly  pleased,  pointing  out 
the  fact  to  the  three  smiling  construc- 
tion boys  who  filled  up  the  back 
window. 

"Last  year  I  distributed  a  thousand 
packages  of  seeds,"  said  the  Inspector 
as  we  left,  "the  Horticultural  Society 
gives  them  to  me  and  the  people  here 
are  so  proud  of  what  they  grow." 

Last  of  all  the  two  of  us  went  to  a 
restaurant,  a  real  Jewish  restaurant, 
evolved  out  of  one  of  the  elder-day 
kind  where  the  garbage  stood  a  foot 
deep  in  the  kitchen  and  the  meat  was 
baked  in  a  hand-basin. 

To-day  the  place  is  all  while  tiles, 
white-uniformed  waiters  and  white  table 
cloths.  No  wonder  the  regular  guests 
manifest  a  wholesome  desire  to  clean 
up  before  they  sit  down  in  such  a  Mos- 
aically-perfect  place. 

"Ew-thing  with  co-wers,"  said  the 
smiling  little  proprietress  who  couldn't 
pronounce  a  "v"  to  save  her  big  black 
eyes,"  "ew-thing  to  be  clean.     Look!" 

Out  in  the  kitchen  there  were  separ- 
ate stands  to  wash  the  milk  and  the 
meat  dishes  according  to  the  Talmudic 
ordinance— six  pure  white  tubs,  and 
a  seventh,  by  itself,  for  the  workers' 
hands,  lest  anything  should  be  con- 
taminated. 

Elijah  who  sliced  cucumbers,  a 
rabbiesque  old  man  with  a  skull  cap 
and  the  eyes  of  a  prophet,  was  as  clean 
as  a  white  apron  could  make  him  and 
Judith  and  Miriam  who  giggled  over 
the  dishes  were  just  as  irreproachable.    1 

"Twenty-one  t'ousand  t'ollars," 
said  the  lady  whose  husband  had  made 
it  all  from  nothing,  "and  ew-thing  to 
be  clean,  clean." 

Outside  we  met  the  prohationer- 
inspectress  on  her  rounds. 

"Say,  they  nearly  put  me  out  uj) 
there,"  she  said,  "I  had  to  make  them 
understand  I  was  just  learning  in  your 
district,  not  trying  to  get  your  job. 
One  old  woman  told  me  she'd  livcfl 
fifty-seven  years  in  the  Ward  and  she 
could  remember  the  days  when  you 
couldn't  get  down  to  Queen  Street 
for  the  garbage." 

The  new  recruit  makes  the  fourth 
woman  inspector  on  the  lists  of  the 
Department  of  Municipal  House- 
keeping. Each  of  them  goes  out  first 
with  the  heroine  of  this  tale  to  practise, 
before  she  tackles  in  earnest  the  Greeks 
or  Poles  or  just-h'out  H'English  of 
her  own  quarter-to-be.  Each  there- 
after aims  to  get  her  people  up  to  the 
standard  of  the  once-despised  Ward. 

"Next  year,"  said  the  Inspector 
who    had    banished    the   chicken    ami 


The  Most  Costly  War 

that  has  involved 
the  whole  human 
race  for  all  time  is 
the  conflict  be- 
tween Nature  and 
Disease.  The  first 
move  in  the  war- 
fare against  Dis- 
ease is  to  clear  the  alimentary  canal  of  all 
the  toxins  of  past  food  follies  by  eating 
Nature's  food  — 

Shredded  Wheat 

the  food  that  keeps  the  bowels  healthy  and  active  by 
stimulating  peristalsis  in  a  natural  way  and  at  the 
same  time  supplies  all  the  tissue-building  material  in 
the  whole  wheat  grain  prepared  in  a  digestible  form. 

"War  prices"  need  not  disturb  the 
housewife  who  knows  the  nutri- 
tive value  and  culinary  uses  of 
Shredded  Wheat.  It  contains  the 
maximum  of  nutriment  at  small- 
est cost.  Delicious  for  breakfast 
with  hot  or  cold  milk  or  cream,  or 
for  any  meal  with  sliced  pears, 
sliced  peaches,  or  other  fruits. 

"If  s  All  in  the  Shreds" 


Made  only  by 

The  Canadian  Shredded  Wheat  Co.,  Ltd 

Niagara  Falls,  Onl. 
Toronto  Office:  4*  Wellington  Street, East. 


Hi 


$100.00  IN  GOLD  FOR  YOUR  CHURCH 

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the  attention  of  an  oflicer  of  your  Indies'  Aid  Society  or  Sunday  School.  Act  quickly. 
Address.  CM PRni   AID   ni:PT. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


TORONTO,  ONT. 


428 


The  Whole  House 

Shines 

HOUSE  -  CLEANING 
is  much  easier  and 
twice  as  effective  if 
you  moisten  your  dust-cloth 
with 


A  dry  dust-cloth  merely 
scatters  the  dust.  lOCO 
LIQUID  GLOSS  gathers 
up  all  the  dirt  and  leaves  a 
bright,  disinfected  surface. 
It  feeds  the  varnish  and 
makes  soiled  furniture  and 
woodwork    look    like    new. 

lOCO   LIQUID  GLOSS  is 

especially  good  for  cleaning 
and  polishing  all  highly  fin- 
ished surfaces,  such  as  pianos, 
automobile  and  carriage 
bodies. 

In  half-pint,  pint,  quart,  half- 
gallon,  and  live  gallon  litho- 
graphed tins;  also  in  barrels 
and  half  barrels  at  furniture 
and  hardware  stores  every- 
where. 


THE  IMPERIAL   OIL 
COMPANY,  LIMITED 

Toronto  Quebec  Regina 

Ottawa  St.  John  Vancouver 

Halifax  Winnipeg  Edmonton 

Montieal  Calgary  Saskatoon 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

pi  anted  the  garbage  can  and  sec  ured 
the  garden  for  every  Wardette  who 
wanted  it,  "next  year,  we're  going  to 
have  flyscreens.  You  just  watch  us!" 


7726  Corporal  and 
the  Girl 

Continued  from  page  416. 

joins  the  McLeod.)  The  position  was 
almost  too  exciting  even  for  him,  and 
he  very  cautiously  drew  himself  back- 
wards on  to  the  bridge.  In  doing  so 
he  bumped  into  the  Corporal,  who  was 
also  attempting  to  rise. 

"All  right  ?"  asked  Tommy. 
"Seem  to  be,"  answered  O'Connor 
in  surprise,  feeling  himself  for  broken 
bones,  and  not  locating  any.  "What 
the  devil  happened  ?  and — what  the 
devil's  this  ?"  for  his  outstretched  hand 
had  touched  a  human  body  lying  near 
him  in  the  dark. 

"Well,  what  in  thunder  is  it  ? " 
asked  Tommy  testily. 

"My  God  !  it's  a  woman,"  said  the 
Corporal,  running  his  hand  over  a 
luxuriant  head  of  hair.  "She's  uncon- 
scious," as  he  lit  a  match  and  held  it 
near  her  face. 

"Melissa,"  he  said  weakly  as  the 
wind  tossed  out  the  tiny  light. 
"What  ?"  cried  Tommy. 
"Melissa  Renfrew,"  said  the  Cor- 
poral fiercely.  "I  suppose  that  hell- 
hound of  a  brother  of  hers  lit  out  and 
left  her,  not  caring  whether  she  was 
dead  or  alive,"  and  he  turned  loose  a 
few  more  lurid  expressions. 

"More  likely  went  over  the  trestle," 
said  Tommy,  solemnly.  By  the  aid 
of  matches  he  had  now  gotten  a  fair 
grasp  of  the  situation.  One  of  the 
water-barrels  which  had  stood  at  the 
side  of  the  bridge  to  be  used  in  case 
of  fire,  had  been  dislodged  by  the  wind, 
and  rolled  on  the  track.  Into  this  the 
first  car  piled  and  turned  turtle,  throw- 
ing off  its  human  freight.  The  second 
car  had  run  into  its  disabled  prede- 
cessor, and  followed  its  example. 

"She's  living,"  said  the  Corporal, 
relieved  as  the  girl  moved  and  groaned 
a  little,  "but  we  must  get  her  over  to 
the  camp  as  quickly  as  possible.  There 
are  lights,  so  every  one  has  not  gone 
tobed."_ 

At  this  pbint  the  Canadian  North- 
em  Railway  was  tunnelling  under  the 
Grand  Trunk  Pacific  trestle,  and  the 
bridge  camp  was  situated  just  below  the 
track.  The  two  young  men,  after 
clearing  the  track  of  the  barrel  and 
disabled  hand-speeder,  lifted  the 
gasoline  car  back  on  to  the  rails,  for 
the  bridge  being  open  between  each 
timber,  it  was  quite  impossible  for 
them  to  carry  the  girl  off  the  track  in 
the   darkness.      Their   only   mode   of 


We've  solved  the  problem  of 
style  in  shoes  for  Canadian  wo- 
men. 

Few  can  afford  to  visit  New 
Yorlc  or  Boston  every  time  a 
new  pair  of  shoes  is  needed — We 
bring  the  new  Vork  and  Boston 
styles  to  you.  You  get  the  new- 
est, latest  models  from  the  Am- 
erican shoe  centres  when  you 
get  the 

ALTRO 

SHOE  /hr  WOMEN 


No  shoes  at  any  price  excel 
those  that  come  from  the  Minis- 
ter-Myles  factory.  Few  brands 
come  anywhere  near  them  in 
style,  in  fit  or  in  wearing  quali- 
ties. You  can  settle  the  style 
argument  for  yourself  by  drop- 
ping into  almost  any  good  shoe 
shop  and  asking  to  see  a  pair  of 
Altros.  To  see  them  is  to  want 
them  on  your  feet — then  will 
come  that  lasting  satisfaction 
that  these  good  shoes  ensure 
through  months  and  months  of 
wear. 


Minister  Mvles  Shoe 


procedure  was  to  get  off  as  they  had 
come  on.  Fortunately  the  car  was 
unhurt  and  Tommy  soon  managed  to 
start  it  going;  but  while  he  was  fum- 
bling at  it  in  the  hampering  darkness 
Corporal  O'Connor  sat  on  the  track 
holding  in  his  arms  the  unconscious 
form  of  the  girl  he  loved.  He  wasn't 
in  doubt  on  that  subject  any  longer. 
At  the  moment  when  he  had  gazed 
into  the  apparently  dead  face  of 
Melissa  Renfrew  his  indecision  van- 
ished.    In  that  moment  all  his  objec- 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


429 


tions  had  taken  wing.  What  mattered 
her  faulty  English,  or  her  disreputable 
connections  ?  She  was  the  girl  he 
wanted,  and  all  remembrance  of  his 
uncle  the  Earl  faded  as  completely 
from  his  mind  as  the  memory  of  his 
wandering  nephew  had  long  since  faded 
from  the  recollection  of  that  haughty 
nobleman. 

"All  set,"  announced  Tommy,  and 
the  Corporal  climbed  on  with  his  pre- 
cious, but  none  too  fairy-like  burden, 
and  they  were  soon  off  the  bridge.  A 
few  minutes  later  they  were  toiling  up 
the  steep  bank  to  the  quarters  of  the 
engineers,  with  whom  they  were 
acquainted. 

Grey,  the  engineer,  who  had  sat  up 
late,  reading,  received  them  with  an 
astonished  face,  but  quickly  put  his 
comfortable  shack  at  their  disposal, 
when  they  explained  the  situation. 

"I'll  send  some  one  do\vTi  to  see  if 
you  were  right  about  Renfrew's  having 
gone  over  the  bridge,"  he  said,  "and 
perhaps  Mrs.  Brown,"  referring  to  the 
wife  of  the  storekeeper  and  the  only 
woman  in  camp,  "will  see  what  can 
be  done  for  the  young  lady." 

O'Connor  put  Melissa  down  on  the 
couch  and  looked  at  her  helplessly 
while  Tommy,  not  knowing  what  else 
to  do,  followed  Grey  out  of  the  shack. 

There  was  a  dark  bruise  on  the  girl's 
forehead  which  was  quite  sufficient  to 
account  for  her  unconsciousness.  The 
Cor[)oral  thinking  vaguely  that  what 
she  needed  wa  more  air,  unbuttoned 
her  long  heavy  coat  and  shifted  her 
a  little  higher  up  among  the  cushions. 
Either  that  or  the  change  from  the  cold 
air  seemed  to  have  the  desired  effect 
for  with  a  little  sigh  she  opened  her 
grey  eyes  to  find  them  gazing  straight 
into  the  Irish  blue  ones  of  Corporal 
O'Connor.  She  was  not  unused  to 
unusual  situations,  and  her  mind 
worked  quickly. 

"You  followed  us  ?"  she  said. 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  along," 
apologized  the  Corporal. 

"What's  the  odds  ?  You'd  'a  had 
to  go  anyhow.  You  just  done  your 
duty — asmebbe  Iwas  justdoingmine." 

"Why  did  you  go  ?"  asked  the  young 
man  curiously. 

"He  couldn't  'a  pumped  all  the  way 
to  39  alone,  and  no  one  else  would  go 
with  him,  so  he  sent  Dolman  for  me. 
He  knew  I'd  go.  You  see,  though  he 
ain't  much  good  he's  my  brother,  and 
we  was  great  chums  as  kids.  I  didn't 
want  him  to  go  to  jail  if  I  could  help 
it,  though  I  guess  he  deserved  to.  Oh  ! 
dear  but  it  was  cold  and  dark,  and  I 
was  sfj  frightened  at  the  high  places, 
and  then  we  ran  on  the  big  bridge  and 
hit  something  I  supix^se,  for  I  don't 
remember  no  more.  I  suppose  you'll 
have  no  use  for  me  now,"  and  her  lip 
trembled  piteously. 

"I  think  you  arc  a  brick,"  said  he 


No  Change 

In  Price  of 

Blue  Ribbon  Tea 

THE  BLUE  RIBBON  TEA  CO.  have  pleasure  in 
announcing  that  they  do  not  propose  to  take 
advantage  of  the  advance  in  price  of  tea.  This 
company  is  in  a  position  to  supply  all  the  Tea  required 
in  Western  Canada,  and  will  sell  at  old  prices 
indefinitely. 

P.S. — In  spite  of  the  heavy  duty  which  has  Just  been   imposed  upon 
Coffee,  we  will  continue  to  sell  Blue  Ribbon  Coffee  at  old  prices. 

Blue  Ribbon,  Limited 


Winnipeg 


Edmonton 


—       Calgary 


SURPLUS 

Stationery,  Printed 
Matter,  etc. 

U  Where  do  you  keep  it  ?  Wouldn't 
a  Steel  Cabinet  be  better  than 
your  present  method? 

11  Steel  Cal)inets  are  fireproof,  com- 
pact and  durable.  They  protect 
stock  from  dust,  vermin,  etc.  A 
security  against  petty  theft.  They 
promote  order  and  system,  and  be- 
sides economize  space  and  time. 

f  Steel  Clothing  Lockers,  too,  should 
be  part  of  the  equipment  of  every 
office.  Let  us  send  you  catalogues 
showing  different  styles  of  Cabinets 
and  Lockers,  or  better  still,  tell  us 
just  what  your  requirements  are. 

The  Dennis  Wire  and  Iron 

Works  Co.  Limited 

London 


C  Af-i  AO/S 


Ox2/donor^ 


The  Painless  Drugless 

ROAD  TO  HEALTH 

Are  you"  run  down?  Ha»  disease  sapped  your 
vitality  ?  Throw  off  this  worn-out  feeling  and 
regain    robust   health     by    use    of    Oxydonor. 

THIRTEEN  TEARS'  USE 

"Having  had  an  Oxydonor  in  my  hnuse  for  thirteen 
years,  I  prize  it  more  highly  than  ever.  It  has  cured 
me  and  my  family  of  Rheumatism,  Lumbago,  Salt 
Rheum,  Neuralgia,  Sick  Headaches,  Bronchitis  and 
Womb  Trouble;  also  cured  Colds,  Sore  Throat,  La 
Grippe,  Pneumonia  and  Fevers.  I  would  not  be 
without  Oxydonor  in  my  house  for  one  day." 

Mrs.  A.E.  Edtecombe,  131  Gor«  Vale  Ave., 
Dec.  16,  1913.  Toronto,  Oni. 

Thousands  of  such  letters  have  been  received  by 
Dr.  Sunctie. 

Beware  of  fraudulent  imitationt.    The  genuine 

is  plainly  ttamped  with  the  name  of  the  originator 

and  inventor,  Dr.  H.  Sanche. 

WRITS  TODAY  for  FREK  BOOK  on  HEALTH. 

Dr.  H.  Sanche  &  Co. 

Dept.  83.  364  St  Catherine  SI  W..  Montreal.  Canada. 


OM^on^ 


IF  YOU  NEED  MONEY  HERE'S  A  JOB  FOR  YOU 

That  will  rlcvcloii  into  3.  gooJ  ix.siuon  if  you  arc  not  atralil  to  woik  Wc  want  t<>lk»  with  gootl.  rich  blood,  with 
.|.-t..rniination.  with  happy  tliii)  >iiiion»  an  1  the  "bound-to-makcgooj-habit."  A  beginner  ought  to  earn  »W 
a  weok.  an  1  mmy  of  our  roBr..-<  ni  itivei  mile;  diuil-  thi»  a-n>u  u.  If  you  mik;  gool  wo  won  I  let  you  fo.  II 
you  want,  clean,  honest,  healthy,  aut.door  work,  write  to^lay.     .VddrrM 

AGENCY  DEPT..  CANADA  MONTHLY,  TORONTO.  ONT. 


430 
m  MOST  POPULAR  PERFUME  IN  DAILY  USE 

INDISPENSABLE  ON  EVERY   DRESSING-TABLE 


For  the 
Batb  and  Toilet 

always  use  the  genuine 

MURRAY  a 

LANMAN'S 
Florida  Water 

Imitations  of  this  delicious  pcrfane 

are  namberless,  but  It  has 

ntver  been  equalled. 

rr  SEFRESHES  AND  DEUGHTS 

ft*  does  no  oth«r. 


AIwmj»  look  for  the  Trade  Mark. 
PRCPARCD   ONLY    BV 

LANMAN  (Si,   KEMP, 

NEW  YORK 

and 
.MONTREAI-_^ 


REFUSE  SUBSTITUTES! 


iLlirays  be  sure  to  look  for  our  Trade  Mark 
on  tlie  ueck  of  the  bottle. 


(^^^^^^(JleyJ  AJ-CtfCytfiC' 


It's  filled  with  a  twist  of  the  wrist.     If 
I  you  want 

PERFECT  PEN  SATISFACTION 
I  use  the 
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The  most  simple  and  eiTective  in  construc- 
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hand. 

Business  men,  stenographers, 
students  and  all  professional 
people  will  find  in  the  "A.A." 
Pens,  the  point  especially  suited 
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Ask  your  stationer,  druggist  or  jeweler 
to  let  you  try  the  "A.A."  Pens  or  write 
for  catalogue  and  prices  on  our  com- 
plete line  of  Self-fillers,  lower  end  joint, 
middle  joint  and  safety  Fountain  Pens. 

Arthur  A.  Waterman  &  Company, 

22  THAMES  STREET,  NEW  YORK  CITY 

Not  connected  with 
The  L.  E.  Waterman  Company 


TUBESniCHl 


■    — '   A  soft,  luminous  light, 
■which     casts     no     shadow. 
Brighter    than    electricity    or 
acetylene.      Makes  and  burns 
its  own  gas.     Costs  2c  a  week. 
No  dirt,  smoke    nor   odor. 
Over  200  styles,  ranging  from 
100  to  2000  candle  power. 
Absolutely  guaranteed. 
Write  for  illustrated  catalog. 
AGENTS  WANTED  EVERYWHERE 
%\    THE  BEST  LIGHT  CO. 

463    E.  Sth  St.,  Canton,  O. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

fervently,  slipping  his  arm  around  her 
to  emphasize  the  fact. 

"Did  you  get  him  ?"  she  asked, 
suddenly    rciuembcring. 

"No,"  he  hesitated,  "he — he  wasn't 
there,  but  the  speeder  was  there — and 
— and— ." 

"The  trestle,"  she  murmured  tensely. 

"We  don't  know  yet.  They've  gone 
to  see — but  it's  quite  likely  that  he 
did  get  away  into  the  woods  along  the 
river.  But,  see  here,  I  couldn't  help 
it,  you  know,  whether  he  got  away  or 
— or  didn't.  I— I  hope  you  won't  feel 
sore  at  me,  because  you  know  I  want 
awfully  to  marry  you." 

Awonderful  illuminatinglight  flashed 
over  the  girl's  face,  making  her  for  the 
moment  surprisingly  pretty. 

"Marry  me  ?"  she  said  breathlessly, 
"but — but — you'd  be  ashamed  o'  me," 
for  her  feminine  intuition  had  long  ago 
revealed  his  indecision  and  its  cause. 

The  Corporal  flushed. 

"No,  I  won't,"  he  answered  stoutly, 
"I  don't  care  about  that.  Those 
things  don't  matter,  really." 

"But  I  care,"  moaned  the  girl,  "and 
I'd  go  to  school  if  I  had  any  money, 
so's  I'd  learn  to  be  like  your  kind  o' 
people." 

"I'll  have  the  money,  for  that  matter 
before  long,  but  I  like  you  just  as  you 
are,"  he  protested,  "I  don't  want  you 
changed." 

"But  I  do,"  she  repeated  "I've 
always  wanted  to  go  to  ladies'  college, 
and  if  you'll  let  me  go — for  awhile  after 
we're  married — I'll  work  so  hard  I 
won't  have  to  stay  long,  and  then 
maybe  I'll  be  nearly  good  enough  for 
you." 

The  Corporal  flushed  again.  There 
flashed  across  his  mind  the  careless, 
happy-go-lucky,  none  too  blameless 
life  he  had  led  since  the  West  had 
claimed  him  for  her  own. 

"I  guess  you  needn't  worry  about 
that,"  he  grinned,  "you'll  probably 
be  good  enough  for  me  at  any  stage  of 
the  game,  but  you  may  suit  yourself, 
and  I'n^  glad  you  won't  hold  it  against 
me — about  Slim,  you  know." 

Her  face  sobered  quickly. 

"But — but  I  guess  we're  even,  ain't 
we  ?"  she  asked,  "If  you  fergive  me 
for  helping  him,  and  for  belongin'  to 
him,  I  guess  I  can  fergive  you  for  just 
doing  what  was  your  duty,"  and  she 
slipped  her*  arms  around  his  neck. 

When,  a  few  minutes  later  Grey 
and  Mrs.  Brown  came  in,  the  Corporal 
was  standing  beside  the  couch  in  an 
awkward  attitude  that  suggested  a 
sudden  rising,  and  the  very  radiant 
face  of  Melissa  Renfrew  did  not  sug- 
gest that  she  had  received  any  serious 
injury  in  the  late  accident. 

"She  doesn't  look  very  bad,"  said 
Mrs.  Brown  smiling,  and  Melissa's 
face  became  even  rosier  than  when  they 
entered. 


A  Good  Lamp 

Burns  Its  Own  Smoke 

THE  Rayo  Lamp  mixes 
air  and  oil  in  just  the 
right    proportion,    so 
that  you  get  a  clear,  bright 
light   without   a    trace    of 
smell  or  smoke. 

LAMPS 


Rayo  Lamps  are  easy  on 
the  eyes — soft  3nd  steady 
— light  up  a  whole  room. 
Made  of  solid  brass,  nickel 
plated^ — handsome,  made 
to  last.  Easy  to  clean  and 
re-wick. 

Dealers  everywhere  carr>' 
Rayo  Lamps — ^various 
styles  and  sizes. 

Royalite  Oil  is  best 
for  all  uses. 


m 


THE    IMPERIAL    OIL 
COMPANY,    LIMITED 

Toronto  Quebec  Regina 

Ottawa  St.  John  Vancouver 

Halifaz  Winnipeg  Edmonton 

Montreal  Calgary  Saskatoon 


E 


"My  head  feels  sort  of  dizzy,  that's 
all,"  she  informed  them.  "I  guess  I 
didn't  get  any  bones  broke.  Did — did 
Slim  get  away  ?" 

Grey  looked  embarrassed  and  turned 
imploringly  to  Tommy,  who  came  in  at 
that  moment. 

The  look  on  Tommy's  face  was 
unmistakable,  for  he  had  just  watched 
them  carry  the  mangled  remains  of 
handsome,  dissolute  Slim  Renfrew 
from  the  bank  of  the  Sundance,  where 
he  had  fallen,  to  a  near-by  tent,  and 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


431 


the  horror  of  the  sight  was  stil 
him. 

"They    found     him  ?"     she 
faintly. 

"Ye — yes,"  stammered  Tommy  "he 
went  over  the  trestle."  He  had  come  so 
near  to  sharing  that  fate  himself  that 
the  sight  had  quite  unnerved  him,  and 
he  sat  down  suddenly  in  a  nearby  chair. 
Melissa's  grey  eyes  widened.  She  hadn't 
really  believed  he  could  have  gone  over 
the  bridge;  it  is  human  nature  not  to 
believe  in  the  death  of  a  dear  one  until 
it  is  proven  beyond  all  doubt. 

The  Corporal  sat  down  suddenly 
beside  her  and  put  his  arms  around 
her;  with  a  sob  she  hid  her  face  against 
his  shoulder. 

"Gee  !"  thought  Tommy,  "she's 
landed  him,"  and  for  some  pecu  iar 
reason  which  he  scarcely  understood, 
his  thoughts  flew  to  Vivien  Vane. 


In  Spotless  Town  Professor  Wise 
Divides  and  adds  and  multiplies—* 
Subtracts  the  cost  upon  a  slate 
4  cleaning:  things  from  which  he  8. 
It  shows  good  cents  2  figure  so 
The  one-ders  of 


W/7d  Wells        ^^"  ^^P^^'^ 


(1)  CLEAN? 

(2)  SCOUR?' 

(3)  POLISH? 


Continued  from  page  410. 

Alice  had  refused  to  stay  at  the  Hotel 
Houston  any  longer  and  run  up  bills. 
Then  in  a  bitter  quarrel  in  which  altru- 
ism clashed  with  altruism,  she  forced 
Seth  to  allow  her  to  come  out  to  the  field 
town  and  take  a  room  in  a  pine-shack, 
which  even  the  tame  title  of  boarding- 
house  seemed  to  over-honor.  The 
landlady  was  Mrs.  Bunnell.  Her 
sister  Jane  was  the  belle  of  the  field — 
which  was  not  saying  much. 

And  so  December  reached  its  twenty- 
fourth — a  warm  and  sultry  day  in 
which  everything  seemed  as  far  as 
])()ssible  from  the  normal  Christmas 
c(jnditions.  Late  in  the  afternoon 
Seth  came  in  and  threw  himself  on  a 
chair  in  abject  collapse. 

"The  rotary  table  has  just  snapped  ^.^^^^  ^^„^.^^. 
'"two.         cant  raise  money  for  an-j^„^j„„^ 
other.      1  he    work    has    shut    clown. 
The  men  are  grouchy,  and  I'm  all  in," 
he  explained. 

"The  men  haven't  struck,  have 
they  ?"  Alice  asked. 

"Oh,  they're  as  faithful  and  patient 
as  you'd  expect  angels  to  be,"  said  Seth, 
"and  they  promised  not  to  knock  off 
till  the  last  hope  was  gone,  but  this 
has  finished  them." 

"They  mustn't  stop  yet,"  said  Alice. 
"You  just  stay  hcahand  tend  the  baby 
awhile." 

"I  guess  that's  about  all  I'm  good 
for,"  Seth  groaned,  too  deeply  dejected 
to  note  that  she  had  slipjjcd  on  her  hat 
and  hurried  out. 

He  sat  chewing  the  bitter  cud  of 
baffled  hopes,  and  mechanically  pick- 
ing up  the  toys  as  the  baby  threw  tiicin 
overboard.  It  was  then  that,  after 
the  eleventh  consecutive  restoration  of 
the  little  tin  bank,  the  clink  of  the 


Answer— (1)  YES.  ^^ 

Show  your  maid  how  easily  she  can  clean 
with  Sapolio.  Rub  just  the  amount  of  Sapolio 
you  need  on  a  damp  cloth. 

Show  her  how  quickly  the  Sapolio  suds 
remove  grease  spots  from  the  floor,  table  or 
shelves. 


Answer— (2)  YES.  *^ 

Sapolio  quickly  scours  all  stains  and 
from  steel  kitchen  knives — all  grease 
enamelware. 


rust 
from 


Sapouiu 


Answer— (3)  YES. '^^ 

Sapolio  brilliantly  polishes  all  metal  surfaces 
— your  faucets,  aluminum,  tins  and  other  metal 
kitchen  ware  bathroom  fixtures,  etc. 

Best  of  all,  you  know  Sapolio  cannot  harm 
the  smoth  surfaces,  or  roughen  your  hands. 

FREE  SURPRISE  FOR  CHILDREN! 

dear  children! 

We  have  a  surprise  for  you.  a  toy  spotless  town- 
just   LIKE  THE  REAL  ONE,  ONLY  SMALLER.  IT  1$   8/«  INCHES    LON6. 
THE    NINE   (">  CUNNING     PEOPLE     OF   SPOTLESS    TOWN. 
IN  COLORS,  ARE    READY,    TO    CUT   OUT  AND    STAND    UP.    SENT 
FREE    ON    REQUEST. 

Enoch  Morgan's  Sons  Co.,  Sole  Man iifaclurers 
New  York  City 


money  shocke<I  his  ear  and  opened  his 
mind  to  temptation. 

He  i)ut  it  away,  and  vowed  to  die 
first.  But  the  bank  fascinated  him, 
and  as  the  baby  continued  to  tell  over 
his  toes,  Seth,  Sr.,  found  himself  half- 
uncon-sciously  working  at  the  lock, 
when  Alice  burst  in. 

"The  men  have  promised  they  11 
stay  on,"  she  said.  "Tom  Dominick 
said  he'd  work  till  somewhere  or  other 
froze  ova,  if  I  asked  him  tew.     "^o   I 


a.sked  him.  All  he  needed  he  said  was 
money  enough  to  get  a  new  rotary 
something  or  other.  Do  you  reckon 
we  could  scrajje  up  a  few  dollars  some 
place  ?" 

At  that  moment  the  little  tin  bank 
came  suddenly  open  in  Seth's  hand, 
and  there  was  a  local  cloudburst  of 
pennies,  dimes,  quarters,  bills,  and  gold 
pieces. 

Alice's  eyes  widened  with  joy.  She 
credited  the  baby  with  the  whole  iil<  i, 


432 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


W    Warm  The  Cold  Corners  li^ 


AUTUMN  days  are  chilly,  but  there  need  be  no  cold  corners 
in  the  house  where  a 


pJ&RFECTIOW 

.^^  Smokeless        ^^\ 

113333^ 


is  used. 

It  warms  up  bedroom  and  bathroom  on  cold  mornings  before  the 
furnace  or  the  stove  is  going,  and  in  very  cold  weather  gives  just  the  extra 
heat  needed  to  keep  the  Hving  rooms  comfortable..  A  Perfection  Heater 
saves  money,  too — coal  bills  are  a  lot  less  because  you  don't  have  to  start 
the  fire  so  soon. 

Perfection  Smokeless  Oil  Heaters  are  inexpensive  to  buy  and  inexpensive  to  use. 
They  are  clean,  light,  portable,  smokeless  and  odorless.  At  hardware  and  furniture 
stores  everywhere.     Look  for  the  Triangle  Trademark 

ROYALITE  OIL  gives  best  results. 

THE  IMPERIAL  OIL  COMPANY,  LIMITED, 


TORONTO 
OTTAWA 
HALIFAX 
MONTREAL 


QUEBEC 
ST.   JOHN 


WINNIPEG 
CALGARY 


REGINA 
VANCOUVER 
EDMONTON 
SASKATOON 


Write  to-day  for  particulars  of  my 

-FREE  TRIAL  OFFER- 


A  MAN  tried  to  sell  me  a  horse  once.  He  said  it  was  a  fine  horse  and  had  nothing  the 
■^*-  matter  with  it.  I  wanted  a  fine  horse,  but,  I  didn't  know  anything  about  horses 
much.  And  I  didn't  know  the  man  very  well  either. 

So  I  told  hira  I  wanted  to  try  the  horse  for  a  month.  He  said  "All  right,  but  pay 
me  first,  and  I'll  give  you  back  your  money  if  the  horse  isn't  alright." 

Well,  I  didn't  like  that,  I  was  afraid  the  horse  wasn't  "all  right"  and  that  I  might 
have  to  whistle  for  my  money  if  I  once  parted  with  it.  So  I  didn't  buy  the  horse, 
although  I  wanted  it  badly.     Now  this  set  me  thinking. 

You  see,  I  make  Washing  Machines — the  "1900  Gravity"  Washer. 
And  I  said  to  myself,  lots  of  people  may  think  about  me  and  my  Washing  Ma- 
chine as  I  thought  about  the  horse,  and  about  the  man  who  owned  it. 

But  I'd  never  know,  because  they  wouldn't  write  and  tell  me.  You  see,  I  sell  my 
Washing  Machines  by  mail.  1  have  sold  over  half  a  million  that  way.  So,  thought  I, 
it  is  only  fair  enough  to  let  people  try  my  Washing  Machines  for  a  month,  be/ore  Ihey 
pay  for  them,  just  as  I  wanted  to  try  the  horse. 

Now,  I  know  what  our  "1900  Gravity"  Washer  will  do.  I  know  it  will  wash  the 
clothes,  without  wearing  or  tearing  them,  in  less  than  half  the  time  they  can  be 
washed  by  hand  or  by  any  other  machine. 

I  know  it  will  wash  a  tub  full  of  very  dirty  clothes  in  Six  minutes. 
other  machine  ever  invented  can  do  that  without  wearing 
the  clothes.  Our  "  1900  Gravity  "  Washer  Joes  the  work  so 
easy  that  a  child  can  run  it  almost  as  well  as  a  strong  woman, 
and  it  don't  wear  the  clothes,  fray  the  edges  nor  break  but- 
tons, the  way  all  other  machines  do. 

It  just    drives  soapy  water  clear  through  the  fibres   of   the 
clothes  like  a  force  pump  might 

So  said  I  to  myself.  1  will  do  with  my  "1900  Gravity"  Waslier 
what  I  wanted  the  man  to  do  with  the  horse.  Only  I  won't  wait  tor  people  to  ask  me.  ril 
offer  first,  and  I'll  make  good  the  offer  every  time, 

l.et  me  send  you  a  "1900  Gravity"  Washer  on  a  MONTH'S  FREE  TRIAL.  Ill  pay 
the  freight  out  of  my  own  pocket,  and  if  you  don't  want  the  machine  after  you've  used 
it  a  month,  I'll  take  it  back  and  pay  the  freight  too.  Surely  that  is  fair  enough,  isn't  it  ? 
Doesn't  it  prove  that  the  "1900  Gravity"  Washer  must  be  all  that  I  say  it  is? 
And  you  can  pay  me  out  of  what  it  saves  for  you.  It  will  save  its  whole  cost  in  a  few 
months  in  wear  and  tear  on  the  clothes  alone  And  then  it  will  save  50  to  76  cents  a  week 
over  that  on  washwoman's  wages.  If  you  keep  the  machine  after  the  month's  trial.  I'll 
let  you  pay  for  it  out  of  what  it  saves  you.  If  it  saves  you  60  cents  a  week  send  me  50c  a 
week  till  paid  for.  I'll  take  that  cheerfully,  and  I'll  wait  for  my  money  until  the  machine 
itself  earns  the  balance. 

Drop  me  a  line  to-day,  and  let  me  send  you  a  book  about  the  "1900  Gravity"  Washei 
that  washes  clothes  in  six  minutes.     Address  me  personally. 


Our  '*  Gravity  "  design 
gives  greatest  convenience, 
as  well  as  ease  of  operation 
with  i/uick  and  thorough 
work.  Do  not  overlook  the 
detachable  tub  feature. 


I  know  no 

Power 
Washers 

If  you  have  elec- 
tricity or  Gasoline 
Power  available  let 
me  tell  you  about 
our  "1900''  Power 
Washers;  wash  and 
wring  by  electricity 
by  simply  attaching 
to  any  electric  light 
socket — no  work  at 
all,  or  the  same 
machine  can  be 
operated     from 


Gasoline  Engine. 

H.  P.  MORRIS,  MAJ4AGER  NINETEEN  HUNDRED  WASHER  Company 
357  Yonge  Street.  TORONTO,  Ontario. 


and  was  on  her  knees  threatening  to 
nip  off  all  the  pinic  toes  at  once. 

"I'd  rather  die  than  rob  the  baby's 
bank  again,"  said  Seth. 

"Well,  thank  goodness,  I  haven't 
such  principles,"  cried  Alice.  "I'll  be 
the  burglar.  Besides,  he's  very  anxious 
for  us  to  use  it,  aren't  you,  you  b'essed, 
itty,  wootsumtootsum,"  etc. 

When  she  jabbed  her  forehead  in 
Seth,  Jr's  ticklish  ribs  and  burrowed, 
the  baby  emitted  joyous  noises  that 
might  have  been  taken  for  approval. 
They  sufficed  the  easy  conscience  of 
Alice,  and  she  hobbled  about  on  her 
knees  harvesting  the  shekels.  She 
forced  them  into  Seth's  pocket,  got  his 
hat,  slammed  it  on  his  head,  kissed 
him  and  shoved  him  out  of  the  door. 

He  went  with  bowed  head  to  the 
derrick,  gave  Tom  money  enough  to 
pay  for  the  repairs,  and  a  little  extra 
to  buy  cigars  and  things.  "It'll  be  the 
baby's  Christmas  present,"  he  smiled. 

When  Tom  returned  with  a  new 
rotary  and  a  resharpened  bit,  he  order- 
ed Seth  off  the  premises. 

"You  go  on  away  f'om  heah,  Mista 
Radford,"  he  commanded.  "You  are 
daid  beat.  You  need  sleep.  Besides, 
it's  Christmas  Eve,  and  you  ought  to 
be  with  yo'  family." 

Seth  yielded,  and  went  back  to  Alice. 
He  could  still  hear  the  mumble  of  the 
revolving  drill  when  he  fell  asleep  at 
midnight,  worn  out  with  despondency. 
He  slept  like  a  dead  man,  for  hours. 

Suddenly  he  sat  up  aghast.  Had  a 
wildcat  leaped  at  his  throat  and  scream- 
ed in  his  very  ear  ?  He  rubbed  his 
eyes,  and  looked  about.  The  scream 
continued.  It  was  like  the  death-cry 
of  a  thousand  panthers.  The  very 
physical  impact  of  it  was  a  terrific  pain. 

He  leaped  from  his  bed.  Day  was 
just  breaking,  and  in  the  rosy  twilight 
of  dawn  he  could  see  Alice  staring  at 
him  and  hugging  the  baby  to  her  breast. 
From  her  look  he  could  tell  that  she 
was  calling  to  him.  From  the  baby's 
distorted  scarlet  features  he  could  see 
that  Seth,  Jr.  was  howling  with  all  the 
horse-power  of  his  lungs.  But  not  a 
sound  could  he  hear  except  that  fearful 
shriek. 

He  went  close  to  Alice  and  yelled  at 
her,  but  she  shook  her  head ;  she  could 
not  hear  a  syllable.  Her  features  were 
wrung  with  the  torture  of  the  noise. 
He  motioned  her  to  cover  her  head  with 
the  bed  covers.  Then  he  slipped  into 
a  few  clothes,  and  hurried  out,  clasping 
his  hands  about  his  ears  as  if  to  keep 
his  skull  from  being  split  with  the 
clamor. 

He  saw  his  crew  running  away  from 
his  well.  The  long  steel  cable  had  been 
sent  flying  like  a  twine  string;  two 
joints  of  pipe  had  been  hurled  against 
a  tree  and  wrapped  around  it.  The 
derrick  was  almost  hidden  in  a  white 
Continued  on  page  454. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


433 


Putting  up  meadow  hay  in  the  Kechako  VaUey, 


Stock  thrives  on   tlu 


isses  in  the  Nechako  Valley, 


Farming  Opportunities  in  British  Columbia 

Come  to  the  Rich,  Sunny,  Mild 

NECHAKO  VALLEY 

on  the  Main  Line  of  the  Grand  Trunk  Pacific 

Let  this  Board  of  Trade,  which  has  nothing  to  sell, 
give  you  reliable,  disinterested,  free  information. 


T   EARN  about  the  wondi-rful  opportunities  for  farming   and 

stock  raising  in  tlie  fertile  Nechako  Valley,  the  largest 
and  richest  connected  area  of  agricultural  land  in  British 
Columbia.  Fertile  soil.  Mild,  bracing  climate.  The  best  mixed 
farming  country  in  Western  Canada.  On  the  main  line  of  a 
transcontinental  railroad.  Near  good,  growing  towns.  Near 
schools  and  churches. 

Government  Department  of  Lands  says:  "  The  Valley  of  the 
Nechako  comprises  one  of  the  finest  areas  of  land  in  British 
Columbia."  Dr.  Dawson,  the  well-known  Government  expert 
and  investigator,  says:  "  The  Nechako  Valley  is  the  largest 
connected  area  of  lands  susceptible  to  cultivation  in  the  whole 
Province  of  British  Columbia." 

Here  is  independence  and  health  calling  to  you!  The 
Nechako  Valley  needs  settlers.  In  our  own  immediate  neighbor- 
hood are  many  thousands  of  acres  of  good,  fertile,  well  located 
land  which  you  can  buy  at  a  very  low  price. 

This  Board  of  Trade  does  not  deal  in  land  nor  anything 
else.     It  only  wants  to  bring  you  and  the  land  together.     The 


land  is  here,  waiting  for  you.     It  will  bring  you  big  harvests 
every  year  and  keep  on  swelling  your  bank  balance. 

Let  this  disinterested  Board  of  Trade  advise  you  about  the 
farming  and  stock  raising  opportunities  in  this  rich  Valley.  Tell 
us  how  much  land  you  want,  what  experience  you  have  had  in 
farming,  approximately  what  you  are  prepared  to  pay  for  the 
land  and  what  resources  you  have  to  put  it  under  crop.  YOU 
DO  NOT  OBLIGATE  YOURSELF  IN  ANY  WAY  AND 
THE  INFORMATION  WILL  BE  KEPT  CONFIDENTIAL. 
•  We  will  advise  you  honestly,  frankly,  whether  there  is  an  oppor- 
tunity for  you  here  and  if  so,  where  and  why.  We  will  bring 
you  and  the  land  together. 

If  you  have  slaved  in  a  more  rigorous  winter  climate ,  away 
from  neighbors,  away  from  green  trees  and  clear,  running  water, 
come  to  the  Nechako  Valley  and  enjoy  life  and  prosperity. 

Write  to-day.  Investigate  AT  ANY  RATE.  You  owe 
that  to  yourself  and  your  family.  There  is  no  obligation  on 
your  part  and  OUR  SERVICE  IS  FREE. 


There  are  teveral  good  buaineii  openinci  for  pro- 
gresflTe  men  and  women  in  thia  fast  (rowing  town. 
II  you  are  intereJted  write  to-day.  Remember  thia 
Board  of  Trade  haa  nothing  to  sell  you. 

Board  of  Trade 
Vanderhoof,  B.C. 

"The  Dominating  Center  of  Nechako  Valley." 

We  have  nothing  to  sell. 


FtU  out,  clip  and  mail  this  coupon. 


C.  M.  Oct. 

Board  of  Trade, 

Vanderhoof,  British  Columbia. 

I  wish  to  get  a  farm  of aero-;  for 

at  about  « PC  acre.     My  resources 

are  about  S This  coupon 

does  not  obligate  me  in  any  way. 

Name . 

Address   .  


434 


Convenience  Itself 

People  never  realize  how  many  uses 
there  are  for  a  Peerless  Folding  Table 
until  some  friend  produces  one  from 
who-knows-where  and  sets  it  up,  al- 
most like  magic. 

Peerless  Folding  Table 

Here  is  a  table  light  as  a  camp  stove 
and  strong  enough  to  hold  half  a  ton 
without  a  quiver.  Fold  up  the  legs  and 
you  can  stow  it  out  of  the  way  in  a 
moment. 

The  style  of  table  you  want  is  in 
our  illustrated  catalogue  M. 
Write  for  a  FREE  copy  to-day. 

HOURD    &    COMPANY,    LIMITED 

Sole  Licensees  and  Manufacturers 
LONDON  ONT. 


a 


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Here  is  a  wonderful  book 
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time  in  tlie  future.  Simply  send  your  name  and  address 
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CANADA  MONTHLY 

Ihe  Pedlars  Pack 

Continued  from  page  424'. 

has  yet  shown  itself.  As  it  ia,.  the 
army  is  twice  as  formidable.  The 
shooting  of  the  British  lines  at  Mons 
the  other  day  excited  the  unbounded 
admiration  of  the  French.  The  firing 
was  not  that  of  nervous  or  excited 
men,  such  as  happened  to  the  New 
York  73rd,  let  us  say,  in  the  Philippines 
when  poor  chaps  (who  had  just  left 
the  land  office  and  the  ice  cream  count- 
er) for  the  first  time  learned  the  awfiil 
fact  that  it  was  no  fancy  play  at  the 
ranges,  but  a  matter  of  life  and  death 
with  a  real  enemy  popping  at  them, 
until  they  found  themselves  firing  with 
shut  eyes  like  Mr.  Winkle  at  the  part- 
ridges, and  the  roof  of  every  man's 
mouth  was  hot  with  trouble. 

And  if  our  British — those  cool, 
methodical,  efficient  men — lost  heavily 
in  that  five  days'  fighting,,  what  of 
the  Germans? 

Our  boys,  say  the  reports,  went 
silent  and  happy  to  their  positions, 
without  singing,  which  is  forbidden 
these  days,  but  with  their  own  saHies 
of  humour — that  of  Little  Ortheris, 
and  Mulvaney,  and  now  Johnny  Can- 
uck. 

ESTIMATES 

TT  is  estimated  that  in  the  Franco- 
Prussian  war  the  Germans  fired 
20,000,000  bullets.  The  French  killed 
and  wounded  amounted'  to  about 
140,000  men.  According  to  this,  only 
one  ball  out  of  143  fired  hit  its  man; 
and  assuming  that  on  an  average  one 
man  out  of  seven  hit  was  actually 
killed,  it  would  seem  that  only  one 
bullet  in  858  pro\ed  effective.  At  the 
battle  of  Bantzen714  bullets  were  fired 
for  one  man  put  hors  de  combat.  At 
Victoria,  Wellington's  army  fired  500 
shots  for  one  man  killed  or  wounded. 
In  1849,  at  Kobling,  the  Prussians 
fired  77,000  cartridges  and  killed  or 
wounded  475  Danes;  that  is,  one  man 
was  hit  out  of  every  163  shots  fired. 
Such  estimates  might  be  vastly  ex- 
tended without  ser\-ing  much  purpose, 
but  they  show  how  necessary  is  efficient 
marksmanship,  and  how  futile  for  all 
murderous  purposes  is  a  rifle  practice 
that  exercises  a  man's  marksmanship 
at  the  rate  of  60  shots  a  day  for  com- 
paratively a  few  days  or  weeks  a  year. 
But  we  must  leave  the  war  fields  for 
easier  grazing  for  a  minute. 

GOD  KNOWS! 

A  QUIET  drunken  man  came  into 
our  back  porch  the  other  day  and 
finding  all  doors  locked,  treated  him- 
self to  a  brown  paper  parcel  which  he 
found  on  the  stoop,  and  slouched  of? 
with  it.  God  knows  what  he  could 
do  with  it.  Item:  One  roll  of  cot- 
ton;   item:    one   white   skirt;    item: 


one  length  of  blue  print;  item:  two 
delicate  undergarments  edged  with 
lace;  item:  one  straight  waistcoat 
(ladies').  The  next  day  a  "suspicious 
person"  was  found  loitering  in  a  nearby 
alley  and  was  promptly  placed  in  the 
charge  of  a  pink-nosed  policeman  and 
led  into  captivity.  He  was  found  to 
be  the  same  man,  he  who  had  pilfered 
the  petticoats  of  Susannah. 

Everybody  said,  "What  a  blessing 
to  be  rid  of  him  !" 

"An  infamous  scoundrel  !"  cries  Mr. 
Grundy. 

"I  can't  think,"  says  Mrs.  G.,  "why 
such  people  are  allowed  to  live." 

"Grod  knows,"  says  Susannah. 

"I  trust  he  does,"  says  Mrs.  Grundy, 
sighing. 

""Shure,"  says  Susannah,  who  needs 
but  the  wind  of  a  word  to  be  of?  upon 
a  dissertation.  "Shure  an'  wh\- 
wouldn't  He  ?  Didn't  He  know  whai 
was  in  the  little  boy's  pocket  when  the 
priest  in  confession  couldn't  tell  him 
'what  was  in  it  ?" 

"And  what  was  in  it,  Susannah,?" 
asks  Mr.  Grundy  pompously. 

"The  devil  a  pocket  at  all  he  had," 
says  Susannah — which  reply  had  in  it 
the  essence  of  such  finality  as  made 
further  conversation  useless. 

OUR  DAILY  HYPOCRISIES 

COME  one  pitched  a  letter  from  over 

.  a  green  hedge  into  the  Pedlar's 
Pack  as  he  travelled  along  the  dusty 
load  at  a  great  pace — for  he  was  late 
Tsvith  his  wares.  Sitting  by  the  way- 
side later  with  his  frugal  lunch,  he 
found  it  to  be  a  dissertation  upon 
Truth,  and  an  appeal  that  it  be  madi 
a  ware  of  the  Pedlar's  Pack.  "Truth' 
at  all  costs  and  every  day  and  in 
everything.  "What  do  you  think  of 
it  ?"    asks  the  man  in  his  letter. 

I  much  fear  me  that  it  is  a  fabric 
out  of  which  an  honest  Pedlar  would 
not  make  much  selling  by  yard  or 
inch.  Truth  every  day  and  in  every- 
thing !     Let's  see. 

Keene  once  had  a  sketch  in  Punch, 
The  guests  were  seated,  the  host  was 
prattling  the  usual  lies — "So  sorry  you 
are  going — now,  can't  we  persuade 
you  ? — how  time  has  flown  !  Hope 
we  shall  soon  see  you  ag —  1" 

Comes  the  coachman,  one  Patrick, 
whispering  behind  the  back  of  his 
hand. 

"Will  I  make  thim  too  late  for  the 
thrain,  your  Hanner  ?  Shure  I  can 
aisy,  me  lord,  if  you  say  the  worrd." 
To  which  his  master,  the  host,  replied 
in  the  ghost  of  a  whisper. 

"If  you  dare,  I'll— Drive  like  the 
devil  !" 

Let's  see  again : 

Miss  Edgeworth  once,  when  leaving 
Bowood  with  her  sister  after  a  visit  to 
Lord  Lansdowne,  said  in  reply  to  his 
Lordship's  civil  "I  am  sorry  you  can- 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


435 


-  i  '.**     •    mil  IIIIHIIIII 

»:iuuisuK.ii:  • 
HI  111  ti[  ■::  i::  n  ■ 

lit  ui  tU  w  »•  tU  * 

111  m :;!  u^  ttt :::  • 
IS!  ii;  III  III  III :::  " 

■  ••  •  .^ 

•  1  SI  1 

•  1  :i  1 

■    s  ;;  ;   ' 

t    if  J 

■  1 :;  1 II 
•  imi'_ 

H     AlbllWUIn^.    .^k»«  .    ~    III 

imiiiiiiimu::  .:»u::cim:;e:s:ss  i  ii 

■;'.■„".'.'     •  HMIUKlIlUlllOraiS  111 

*  litllit'iti 

*  mm 

iiiillir'liiii''i '!"!   J 

^  miniiiMi 

•"-a-  ■  im.:::!':'"' 

fufm  I  •    isKi    • 

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Hull 

--r-T— 

The  Factory  that  Times  the  World 


By  night,  from  the  River  Charles,  one  gets  an 
impressive  picture  of  the  Waltham  Watch  plant  at 
Waltham,  Massachusetts. 

In  capacity  it  is  so  great  that  it  manufactures  three 
thousand  watch  movements  a  day. 

In  the  delicacy  and  scientific  exactness  of  its  pro- 
cesses, it  has  been  accorded  first  place  the  world  over. 

This  is  the  oldest  watch  plant  in  America — the 
largest  in  all  the  world.  From  it  to  every  corner  of  the 
earth  have  gone  the  Waltham  instruments  of  precision. 

Nearly  twenty  million  men  and  women  time  their 
daily  movements  by  the  Waltham  Watches  manufac- 
tured here. 

Jewelers  everywhere  regulate  their  timepieces  by  the 
Waltham  Chronometers,  which  they  unhesitatingly 
accept  as  standard. 

In  official  naval  services  and  on  the  best  appointed 
yachts  and  motor-boats  the  authority  of  the  Waltham 
Marine  Chronometer  is  regarded  zs  final. 

Motorists  in  every  land  depend  upon  the  Waltham 
Automobile  Timepieces  to  give  them  the  exact  hour 
under  all  conditions  of  wind,  weather,  and  road. 

And  so  we  speak  the  literal  truth  when  we  say: 
"This  is  the  Factory  that  times  the  World." 

From  this  Waltham  factory  each  year  go  timepieces 
which  outclass  all  competitors  in  the  tests  at  the  famous 
Kew  Observatory  in  England.  These  trials  are  the 
most  authoritative  in  the  world.  More  Waltham 
Watches  receive  the  Kew  Class  A  certificate  (of  ac- 
curacy) than  any  other  make  of  watch — a  proof  accept- 
ed by  watch  experts  as  conclusive  of  Waltham's 
unrivalled  resources. 

This  prestige  of  Waltham  has  been  won  during 
more  than  half  a  century  of  scientific  and  commercial 
conquest.  Waltham  has  revolutionized  the  world's 
watch  making.  It  has  been  the  originator  of  new 
methods,  the  inventor  of  new  machinery,  a  daring  and 
successful  pioneer.  The  story  of  the  origin  and  triumph 
of  Waltham  offers  a  fascinating  example  of  the  success 
that  rewards  an  organization  seeing  a  human  need  and 
filling  it  better  than  it  was  ever  filled  before. 

In  Europe  watch-making  was  a  household  industry, 
subdivided  into  more  than  a  hundred  distinct  branches 
and  employing  thousands  of  men,  women  and  children 
in  their  homes.  At  Waltham  all  these  processes  were 
placed  under  one  roof  and  automatic  machines  replaced 


the  hands  of  the  workers.  The  most  important  result 
of  this  change  was  that  the  watch  parts  became  inter- 
changeable so  that  a  part  may  be  taken  from  one  watch 
and  placed  in  another  without  changing  it  in  any  way 
and  both  watches  give  perfect  results. 

Waltham  thus  introduced  uniformity  and  regular 
standards  into  watch  making,  where  chaos  prevailed 
before.  To  the  watch  purchaser  this  meant  not  only 
the  finest  watch  in  the  world,  but  the  possibility  of 
quicker,  easier  and  cheaper  repair  in  case  his  watch 
met  with  an  accident. 

The  nucleus  of  the  Waltham  Company  was  formed 
in  1849  by  Aaron  L.  Dennison  who  had  observed  the 
manufacture  of  muskets  on  the  interchangeable  system 
in  the  government  arsenal  at  Springfield,  Mass.  He 
reasoned  that  similar  economy  of  method  could  be 
utilized  in  making  watches.  He  set  up  a  few  machines 
in  a  clock  works  in  Roxbury,  then  a  suburb  of  Boston. 
In  1850  a  small  factory  was  built  and  the  model  of  the 
first  watch  completed.  It  was  made  to  run  eight  days 
without  rewinding,  but  this  was  found  impractical. 
The  first  watches  were  actually  placed  on  the  market 
in  1853.  Seeking  a  more  favorable  environment,  free 
from  dust,  the  company  moved  in  1854  to  its  present 
location  at  Waltham,  12  miles  from  Boston,  and  this  site 
today  remains  unequaled  for  the  manufacture  of  delicate 
instruments.  On  the  one  side  is  the  River  Charles,  on 
the  other  an  open  park,  with  abundant  foliage,  sunlight 
and  flowers.     The  atmosphere  is  pure  and  dustless. 

In  1854  the  company  employed  90  hands  and  its 
output  was  5  movements  a  day.  Today  it  manufac- 
tures 3000  movements  a  day,  employs  a  "small  army" 
of  people,  and  its  total  output  is  nearly  20,000,000 
watch  movements. 

Many  of  the  most  delicate  and  difficult  processes 
of  watch  manufacture  are  exclusive  to  Waltham. 
The  best  method  of  making  the  over-coil  or  Breguct 
hairspring  is  possible  only  at  Waltham.  Waltham 
mainsprings  are  made  by  a  secret  process  and  are  so 
superior  that  any  jeweler  will  tell  you  that  "the  best 
mainsprings  come  from  Waltham".  The  Waltham 
"escapement"  is  celebrated  for  the  attention  and  care 
which  is  bestowed  upon  it. 

This  great  Waltham  plant  and  its  honorable  history 
and  traditions  arc  justified  by  the  faithfulness  and  beauty 
you  will  note  in  every  Waltharti  product. 


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CANADA  MONTHLY 

not  stay  longer,"  "Oh,  but  my  lord, 
we  can  !"  Whereupon  the  boxes  were 
taken  off  the  carriage  which  was  sent 
away,  and  the  ladies  re-entered  the 
house  with  the  astounded  and  cha- 
grined host. 

Listen  to  the  dear  ladies: 

"Thank  you,  dear;  so  glad  to  have 
seen  you  !  Oh,  Lord,  didn't  she  look 
a  fright  !  •  Hair  dyed  a  new  shade, 
and  a  purple  make-up  !  Sixty  if  she's 
a  day;  and  the  way  she  frisks  about  ! 
Awful  old  woman  !" 

Far  be  it  from  a  poor  Pedlar  to  fall 
into  such  bogholes  as  strict  adherence 
to  the  truth  would  place  him.  To  be 
sure  he  sells  shoddy  for  cloth,  and  at 
that  you'd  cheat  him  in  the  price,  but 
both  he  and  you  know  the  tricks  of 
the  trade,  and  you  get  as  good  as  you 
give.  The  trifling  untruths  may  not 
be  worth  while,  but  could  we  get  along 
without  them  ?  Could  we  live  the 
daily  life  without  some  one  or  other  of 
the  little  conventional  hypocrisies  ? 
For  instance,  if  I  told  you  dear  Madam, 
that  I  more  than  suspected  that  your 
good  looks  came  from  your  maquillage 
box,  and  that  you  had  passed  the  half 
century  milestone  a  good  decade  ago, 
and  you  retaliated  by  saying  "If  Pm 
sixty,  you  must  be  eighty,  for  you've 
been  writing  nonsense  for  the  last 
forty-five  years,  and  everybody  knows 
that  you  aren't  a  Pedlar  at  all,  but 
just  a  plain  woman,"  would  we  be 
happier  than  when  you  address  me  as 
"Dear  Editor,"  and  I  subscribe  my- 
self— "Yours  affectionately,  The  Ped- 
lar ?" 

FROM  A  WOMAN'S  VIEWPOINT 

"Now  Germany  is  a  land  of  universal  mourn- 
ing. Black  is  the  predominant  color.  The 
train  which  conveyed  nie  from  the  Capital  to 
Hamburg  was  full  of  weeping  women  in  black. 
Women  in  (Germany  are  either  desolate  or 
racked  by  the  torture  of  suspense.  Each 
knock  at  the  front  door  caused  a  panic  in  every 
household,  for  it  may  be  the  dreadful  official 
message  announcing  the  death  or  multilation 
of  a  husband,  or  son,  or  brother. 

"Germany  has  called  her  last  line  of  reserves 
and  every  household  is  directly  concerned  in 
the  war.  In  some  families  all  the  male  mem- 
bers are  at  the  front.  The  losses  have  been 
colossal,  and  the  suppression  of  public  lists 
by  the  authorities  has  not  concealed  the  extent 
of  toll  in  human  lives,  which  Germany  is  forced 
to  pay  for  the  Kaiser's  policy.  For  local  lists 
are  still  published  and  bad  news  travels  fast, 
so  that  a  fairly  accurate,  though  probably  still 
incomplete,  idea  of  the  number  of  casualties 
exists. 

"I  believe  I  w^ill  be  within  the  mark  in  stating 
that  more  than  100,000  German  soldiers  al- 
ready have  been  killed  jn  various  battles  on 
the  eastern  frontier,  the  western  frontier  and 
in  Belgium  and  France.  Heaviest  of  all  have 
been  the  casualties  in  continuous  fighting  be- 
tween the  Mons  and  Charleroi  line  and  in  the 
present  positions  of  the  forces  moving  on  Paris." 
— Extract  from  the  correspondence  of 
Count  Rudolph  Ehrenburg. 

nPHE  heart  is  sore  and  depressed  with 

all    that    has    happened,    that    is 

being    written.     The    mind     staggers 

at  numbers  in  this  war  of  the  world. 


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suit  every  seas<jn.  Tlii- 
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TORONTO  MONTKEAi-  WINNIPEG 

INCORPORATED  (IN  (ENGLAND    IN     1883    WITH 
BRITISH   CAPITAL   FORjTHE   BRITISH   EMPIRE 


From    All   Causes,    Head   Noises   and   Other   Ear 

Troubles  Easily  and  Permanently  Relieved ! 

Thousands  who  were  formerly 
deaf,  now  hear  distinctly  every 
sound  —  whispers  even  do  not 
escape  them.  Theirlifeof  loneli- 
ness has  ended  and  all  is  now  joy 
and  sunshine.  The  impaired  or 
lacking  portion?  of  their  ear 
drums  have  been  reinforced  by 
simple  little  devices,  scientifi- 
cally constructed  for  that  special 
purpose. 

Wilson  Common -Senss 
Ear  Drums 

often  called  "Little  Wireless  Phones  for  the  Ears"  are  restor- 
ing perfect  hearing  in  every  condition  of  deafne? s  or  defective 
hearing  from  causes  such  as  Catarrhal  Deafness,  Relaxed  or 
Sunken  Drums,  Thickened  Drums,  Roaring  and  Hissing 
Sounds,  Perforated,  Wholly  or  Partially  Destroyed  Drums, 
Discharge  from  Ears,  etc.  No  matter  what  the  case  or  iiow 
long  standing  it  is,  testimonials  received 
show  marvelous  results.  Common  Sense 
EarDrums  strengthen  the  nervesof  the  ears 
and  concentrate  sound  waves  on  one  point 
of  the  natural  drums,  thus  successfully  re- 
storing perfect  hearing  where  medical  skill 
even  fails  to  help.  Theyaremadeof  asoft, 
sensitized  material,  comfortable  and  safe  • 
to  wear.  They  are  easily  adjusted  by  the  / 
wearer  and  out  of  sight  when  worn.  ' 

What  has  done  so  much  for  thousands 
of  others  will  help  you.    Don't  delay- 
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BOOK     on     DEAFNESS— giving    full    in  PosWoa 
particulars  and  plenty  of  testimonials. 

WILSON    EAR    DRUM    CO.,   Incorporated 
112  lnUr-South«ra  BIdg..  Louisvilla,  Ky. 


It  cannot  conceive  a  line  of  battle  in 
which  millions  of  men  are  engaged. 
Every  other  war  in  history  dwindles 
to  pigmyism  before  this  'shocking 
Beast  of  a  War  that  is  eating  men  up 
like  a  Moloch  and  breaking  the  hearts 
of  the  women.  They  are  stunned 
with  misery,  the  women  of  Germany, 
of  France,  of  little  Belgium,  of  vast 
Russia,  of  Austria,  of  Britain,  and 
soon  it  will  come  home  to  the  women 
of  Canada.  Quiet  soldiers,  the  women, 
steadfast  and  patient  and  unutterably 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


sad.  I  saw  them  once — the  women 
looking  at  their  dead  and  wounded. 
I  heard  the  sound  of  their  wailing. 
I  saw  the  stunned,  dull  faces,  heard 
the  sobbing  in  the  night  as  I  lay  un- 
sleeping on  the  flags  of  Clara  Barton's 
Red  Cross  hospital  in  Santiago.  And  I 
have  not  forgotten.    I  shall  never  forget. 

It  was  gay-going  to  Cuba  seventeen 
years  ago.  No  fresh-cheeked  lad  that 
ever  laughed  his  goodbye  from  a  train 
window  on  his  way  to  V^alcartier  was 
ever  more  happy  or  carefree  than  "the 
first  accredited  woman  war  correspond- 
ent in  the  world"  as  she  went  gaily 
— gaily,  oh  my  God! — aboard,  accom- 
panied by  a  cohort  of  the  Press  boys, 
the  good  comrades  of  years. 

For  her,  war  meant  scoops  for  her 
paper,  glory  and  sound,  and  the  beat- 
ing of  drums  and   the  flying  banners. 

She  knew  that  somewhere  in  the 
background  there  were  bullets  and 
the  roar  of  guns  and  wounded  men 
and  dying  horses.  But  these  were  in 
the  background  while  she  was  "going 
to  the  front."  I  never  hear  or  read 
the  word  now  without  feeling  a  pulse 
of  that  despair  which  before  I  came 
back  gripped  my  soul  and  remains  with 
me  yet.  To  the  front!  and  the  drums 
beating  and  the  "boys"  singing,  and 
the  women  cheering  through  their  tears! 

No  woman  will  ever  cheer  on  the 
troops  again.  Let  them  go  in  silence; 
•in  love;  in  that  deep  grief  of  heart 
which  the  forlorn  mother  of  some 
killed  boy  has  known  and  will  know 
until  her  hour  of  rest  comes. 

And  all  Germany  is  a  land  of  mourn- 
ing. And  all  the  women  are  in  black. 
And  so  is  Belgium  and  Britain  and 
IVance.     So  may  be  Canada. 

Somelxxly  asks  for  an  article  on 
war  "from  the  woman's  standpoint." 
As  if  she  had  any  standpoint  save  that 
of  horror  and  grief  and  silence.  And 
yet  she  is  a  brave  soul — -Woman.  She 
gives  her  man  or  her  boy  willingly, 
bravely,  even  cheerfully.  There  is 
nothing  grudging  about  her.  But  do 
you  think  she  is  not  remembering 
the  man  of  her  heart — the  child  she 
brought  in  her  |)angs  of  anguish  into 
the  world  years  ago?  He  will  always 
be  a  baby  to  Her.  She  has  his  little 
old  toys  -happy  little  toys  over  whicii 
she  will  weei)  slow  silent  tears.  And 
there  will  l)e  a  small  drenched  woolly 
sheep  somewhere,  that  once  used  to 
"Baa"  gaily  as  he  swept  along  on  red 
wheels,  or  maybe  an  old  tin  cow  with 
all  the  red  washed  ofT.  I  once  saw  a 
woman  weeping  over  her  baby's  toys. 
But  she  had  not  shed  a  tear  over  her 
dead  soldier. 

There  has  been  so  much  cheering 
and  drum-beating  throughout  Canada. 
Too  much.  Too-flaring  black  head- 
lines, too  much  excitement  and  "whoop 
il-up"  an<l  "Send  'em  along."  The 
women   have    thrown    themselves  de- 


A  White  Enamel 
Finish  That  Will 
M>/TurnYellow 


In  your  home  you  want  a  white  enamel  finish  that  will 
not  turn  yellow,  fade  nor  check. 

You  want  a  finish  that  will  always  look  bright  and  new — 
a  finish  that  is  unharmed  by  frequent  cleaning  with  soap  and  hot  water. 

Luxeberry  White  Enamel 

Whitest  White-Berry  Quality 

is  such  a  finish.     It  gives  wood-work  a  lastingly,  beautiful  porcelain-like 
white  finish. 

For  your  floors,  stair-treads  and  other  interior  wood- 
work subjected  to  severe  wear  use  Liquid  Granite. 

Liquid  Granite  is  a  tough,  elastic  floor  varnish  that  resists 
hard  wear  to  an  unusual  degree.  Scrubbing  with  soap  and  hot  water 
serves  merely  to  brighten  its  beautiful  lustre. 

These  two  finishes,  like  all  Berry  Brother  products,  are 
of  the  highest  quality.  This  quality  is  the  result  of  over  fifty-six  years' 
experience  in  varnish  manufacture. 

Berry  Brothers'  Varnishes  are  sold  by  the  leading  dealer 
in  every  city.  Ask  him  which  "Berry"  VarnLsh  will  meet  your  require- 
ments best — and  use  it. 

BERRY  BROTHERC 
Grid's  Lar^est\^rnisli  Makers  V-' 

WALKERVILLE,  ONT. 


mi 


m 


voiedly  into  wt»ik  li»i  ilicir  soldiers' 
comfort.  There  is  the  feeling  that 
they  must  do  something.  But  over 
there  in  Germany  the  women  sit  in 
their  closed  homes  trembling  if 
the  door-knocker  rouses  its  clamour 
of  dismay  through  the  manless  home. 
You  know  what  it  is  when  the  yellow 
envelope  of  the  telegram  is  handed 
in  at  the  door  when  you  have  a  Ixjy 
sick  somewhere,  or  some  dear  one  lies 
in  danger.  You  hesitate,  then  you 
fumble  at  it,  open  it  somehow  and  if 


the  few  words  of  cheer  arc  liitn  .  . 
But  your  heart  was  trembling  as 
you  took  the  flying  message.  Think 
of  the  women  of  Kuro|)e — tJiousands 
of  them— listening,  waiting — every 
household  directly  concerned  in  the 
war.  In  some  families  all  the  male 
members  are  at  the  front.  The  sound 
of  war  is  great.  The  roar  of  guns 
fills  the  world.  But  greater  than  these 
and  overcoming  them  in  one  mighty 
cry  will  he  the  wail  of  the  women 
grieving  over  their  dead. 


438 


^« 


IS    4:[ie    home 


GELATIi 


Knox  Gelatine  is  made 
pure  and  kept  pure.  Es- 
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hands  never  touch  Knox 
Gelatine  until  you  your- 
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It  is  endorsed  by  all 
Pure  Food  experts  and 
Teachers  of  Cookery. 

You  will  find  it  indis- 
pensable to  good  cooking. 

Send  for 
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The  KNOX  book  of  recipes  tells  you 
how  to  make  delicious  desserts,  Jellies, 
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CtlATlNt    ^ 


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Do  YOU  Need  Money? 

To  educate  your  children,  support  a 
family,  pay  off  a  mortgage,  buy  a 
home,  or  live  better.  Then  do  as 
thousands  of  others  are  doing.  We 
rcQuire  intelligent  local  representatives — not  "  can- 
vassers." We  need  men  and  women  of  reliability 
and  good  address  to  look  after  our  new  subscrip- 
tions and  renewals,  no  previous  experience  is 
necessary,  no  money  needed.  You  can  work  dur- 
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little  as  you  choose.  Write  to-day  for  full  partic- 
ulars.    Address  Agency  Dept. 

Canada  Monthly,  Toronto,  Ont. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

The  Wall-flower 

Continued  from  page  407. 

after  his  tithes  and  dues  bought  two 
slips  for  his  wife  and  gave  Cicely  half 
a  guinea  for  them.  The  Kern  family 
tipped  her  with  sixpences  whenever 
they  came,  and  praised  her,  and  her 
mistress  fully  appreciated  her  little 
handmaid's  faithful  service,  and  pre- 
sented her  with  a  chintz  kerchief  for 
her  neck,  and  a  flowered  white  muslin 
apron  for  Sunday.  She  bought  her- 
self Sunday  shoes — Cicely  had  a  pretty 
foot — and  new  ribbons  for  her  bonnet, 
and  as  a  result  of  all  this  prosperity, 
according  to  village  gossip  she  grew 
"top-lofty",  especially  when  she  had 
two  beaux  at  once,  and  her  flower  was 
at  its  very  best.  And  now  comes  the 
tragedy  of  it  all.  She  gave  the  strap- 
ping young  rosy-cheeked  village  butcher 
whom  she  favored,  a  sprig  of  wall- 
flower, which  he  wore  ostentatiously  in 
his  button-hole,  and  she  sat  demurely 
beside  him  in  church  in  sight  of  the 
other  admirer,  a  gentleman's  groom, 
whose  face  she  had  slapped  and 
scratched  the  day  before,  because  he 
had  kissed  her  without  leave. 

It  was  a  dark  summer  night, — no 
moon — and  John  Westcome,  the 
butcher,  escorted  her  home  from  church 
and  on  the  road  proposed  to  marry 
her,  but  she  refused,  declaring  that 
while  the  old  lady  lived,  she  would 
never  leave  her;  her  beau  retorting 
gallantly  that  he  would  wed  no  other 
girl,  "no,  not  if  the  old  lady  lived  to 
be  a  hundred."  He  clenched  the 
promise  by  biting  a  bright  silver  six- 
pence in  two,  with  his  strong  young 
teeth,    and    giving    Cicely  half    of    it. 

It  was  supposed  that  the  groom, 
Francie,  who  had  been  refused  a  nose- 
gay that  very  morning,  followed  them 
in  the  dark,  and  heard  it  all;  be  this 
true  or  false,  he  was  in  the  village,  very 
late  that  night  as  his  master  had 
dined  with  Mr.  John  Griffin,  which 
meant  strong  ale,  endless  talk  on 
politics,  and  late  hours. 

Cicely  went  to  bed  feeling  very 
important  and  happy,  with  the  scent 
of  the  wall-flower  in  her  nose,  and 
sentimental  and  ambitious  dreams  in 
her  head.  She  slept  soundly,  and  so 
did  Miss  Kem.  When  they  awoke 
in  the  morning,  a  drizzling  rain  had' 
set  in,  and  the  wall-flower  was  gone; 
torn  silently  from  the  house,  and  gone 
root  and  branch.  The  lawn  had  been 
trampled  by  a  pair  of  heavy  boots, 
and  a  few  leaves  and  flowers  were 
scattered  about. 

►  Mistress  and  maid  wept  together, 
and  then  Cicely  went  crying  down  the 
village  street,  following  the  trail  of 
her  lost  treasure;  but  not  far.  Soon 
she  came  to  a  place  where  a  horse  had 
been  tied,  and  there  was  no  further 
trace  of  the  flower,  or  the  heavy  boots. 


If?)  "^Xj^jJ  dUr 


'hyCUC^, 


'ja.>^y  rnjL^ — - 


Soli  by  all  progressive 
Canadian  stationers. 


^/aisde/n 


THIS  FINE,   2-PIECE 

Suit 


Y  Pa.per 

^  Pencil 
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Really  Free! 


Mothers!  Mothers!  Just  look  at 
this.  A  handsome,  Btylish,  beauti- 
fully made  two-piece  suit,  just  like 
the  picture  akMlMttb  FREE  to  jrnr 
boy!  Think  of  it!  Not  a  cent  of 
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Free  as  the  air  you  breathe.  It's 
true.  This  offer  is  absolutely  (ten- 
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-thefin*«t 
organiiation  of  ita  kind  in  the'worW.     TbcBe  .boy» 
are  known  alt  over  America  as  the  cleaneBt,  briKbieat,  most 
independent  little  men  in  the  country'. 

Make   Spending    Money 

Our  boys  make  from  $1  to  $5  ev*ry  week  seliinR  our  f«mo»» 
papers.  They  do  it  in  >pare  time-wiihoul  inUrferin*  with 
school  work  or  play.  And  in  addition  they  wet  the  auitynown 
above,  caps,  ahoes,  rain  capcK.  etc..  FREE.  Anyboylromo 
to  16  years  can  do  it.  We  train  them.  It  cott«  nothing  to 
■tart.  We  send  papers  fr««  and  take  bark 
what  are  not  sold.  So  there'n  no  chance  to 
lose.  If  you  want  to  train  your  boy  to  be  in- 
dependent, fearlc*^.  business  like  aelf- 
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How  to  Train  Your  Boy  to  Make  Money 

It's  the  moat  practical  bo<ik  of  it«  kind 

ever  writttn.     Explains   our  sueciapful 

plan  of  business  training  tor  host.   Ttlls 

all   about    the    premiums— and   now  to 

start.     There's   no  cost.     Merely  your 

name  and  address  brinira  itfras— po^*' 

age  paid.     Write  today  — tww     t" 

W.     D.     BOYCe     COMPANY 
Otn.   503  CHICAGO.  rLLINOIS 


S250  MOTORCYCLt 

TO  BE  GIVEN  AWAY 

For  a  little  pleasant  easy  work  for  us  in 
your  neighborhood  looking  after  our  renewals 
and  new  subscriptions.  No  experience  needed, 
anyone  can  do  the  work  during  spare  time  and 
easily  win  this  fine  machine.  With  a  motor- 
cycle you  can  ride  miles  and  miles  over- 
country,  up  and  down  the  hills  at  almost 
any  speed. 

Write  to-day  for  full  particulars.     Address 

CANADA  MONTHLY,  TORONTO.  ONT. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


439 


It  was  some  weeks  before  they  were 
sure  of  the  thief,  though  John  West- 
come  put  the  sprig  Cicely  had  given 
him  between  the  leaves  of  his  Bible,  and 
swore  vengeance,  and  Miss  Kem  who 
had  turned  eighty,  fell  ill  with  the 
shock  of  the  theft.  Mr.  John 
Griffin's  daughter,  a  little  girl  of  ten, 
was  sent  by  her  mother  with  her  kindly 
,  compliments  to  express  her  sympathy, 
and  a  bunch  of  roses,  and  Miss  Kem 
gave  her  a  small  glass  of  wine  and  a 
seed  cake,  and  told  her  at  great  length 
what  a  "turn"  this  outrage  had  given 
her.  Miss  Masculin  also  called  to 
state  her  regret  that  she  could  not 
get  Cicely  another  wall-flower,  as  Lord 
Bruce  had  closed  the  forest  against 
pleasure  parties,  but  she .  gave  the 
bereaved  little  girl  a  tract  on  the 
mysterious  ways  of  Providence,  and 
a  bright  shilling. 

The  village  was  moved  to  great  in- 
dignation when  at  last  it  was  proved 
beyond  a  doubt,  who  had  really  done 
the  evil  deed.  Twelve  village  girls, 
servants  and  peasants  all.  Cicely's 
big  sister  Poll  Cockle  being  the  ring- 
leader, waylaid  the  groom  Francie, 
as  he  left  the  village  inn,  and  tearing 
him  out  of  his  saddle,  forcibly  carried 
him  to  the  adjacent  pond  and  ducked 
him  over  head  and  ears,  twelve  times. 
His  descendant  is  now  Lord  Heneage. 
When  at  last  they  dumped  him  half 
dead  upon  the  bank,  they  noticed 
something  clinging  to  his  boots.  It 
proved  to  be  the  broken  desecrated 
remains  of  the  poor  wall-flower.  It 
was  pruned  and  planted  again,  but 
never  grew;  it  was  dead  indeed.  A 
climbing  rose  was  set  on  either  side 
of  Miss  Kem's  door,  but  though 
charming  in  their  way,  they  were  "fast 
of  their  scent",  and  you  had  to  put 
your  nose  into  them  to  learn  their  full 
value.  They  were  not  so  gloriously, 
aggressively,  bewitchingly  attractive 
as  the  lost  favorite,  tossing  its  long 
trailing  branches  in  the  wind,  and 
scattering  sweets  recklessly  up  and 
down  the  street,  and  across,  swaying 
in  golden  bro^vn,  and  royal  purple  as 
the  sun  shone  on  it. 

John  Westcome  had  kept  the  inn 
servants  from  going  to  the  rescue  of 
the  gr(K)m  when  he  cried  for  help,  and 
held  his  horse  during  the  ducking,  and 
he  was  taken  by  Francis  (backed  by 
his  master)  before  a  magistrate — 
John  Heneage,  Esq. — to  answer  for 
his  deed.  As  it  happened,  it  was  a 
quorum,  four  English  gentlemen,  all 
in  hunting  suits  impatient  for  the 
chase,  annoyed  at  the  delay,  and  eager 
to  be  after  the  fox.  The  gr<x)m  wanted 
the  redress  of  the  law  for  his  ill 
usage. 

"Shake  hands  and  ha'  done  with  it," 
quoth  John  Heneage,  Esq. — "agree, 
puppies,  agree;  there  isn't  much  law 
for    a    penny,"    a    remark    which    has 


If  the  Dish  Were 
to  Fit  the  Food 


A  lover  of  Puffed  Grains — Puffed  Wheat  and  Puffed  Rice — says 
they  ought  to  be  served  in  a  golden  dish  with  jewels  on  the  side.  Such 
royal  foods  as  these,  he  says,  should  have  a  royal  setting. 


Do  you  realize  how  much  these  bubbles  of  grain  have  added  to 
the  joy  of  living  ?  When  we  were  children,  we  had  no  such  morning 
dainties.  For  those  old-time  suppers  we  had  no  such  morsels  to  float 
in  our  bowls  of  milk. 

The  children  of  to-day  can  all  have  them. 


Puffed  Wheat,  -   10c 
Puffed  Rice,  -    -  15c 

Except  in  Extreme  West. 


These  foods — invented  by  Prof.  Anderson — fulfill  the  dreams  of  all 
the  ages  in  respect  to  perfect  cooking. 

They  are  steam  exploded.     Every  food  element  is  made  available 
without  any  tax  on  the  stornach. 

Their  fascinations  and  their  fitness  for  food  make  Puffed  Grains 
the  greatest  cereal  foods  of  the  century. 

For  variety's  sake,  get  a  package  of  each. 

The  Quaker  Q^Xs  G>inpaiYy 

Sole    Makers 

ssm 


440 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER. 


(T^ 


lOPSOl  Sm=4© 


1915 
Model 


fr-^       This  Year 
nJ  F. O.B.Detroit 


Howard  E.  Coffin 

Chief  of  the  48 
Hudson  Engineers 


Autl^nrtty 

On  New-Day  Quality  Cars 


The  new  IILDSON  Six-40 — like  all  former  Iludsons — is  a 
Howard  E.  Coffin  creation.  So  were  cars  before  Hudsons — cars 
which  marked  some  of  the  greatest  steps  in  motor  car  progression. 

Legions  of  men  who  have  owned  these  cars  re- 
gard Mr.  Coffin  as  final  authority  in  this  line  of 
engineering.  So  do  legions  of  others  who  Tiave 
watched  motor  car  evolution. 

Do  you  know  another  designer  who  has  accom- 
plished so  much,  or  has  led  in  so  many  advances  ^ 

Go  See  His  Ideal  Six 

The  HUDSON  Six-40  for  1915  is  the  finished 
model  of  Mr.  Coffin's  ideal  car.  It  shows  his  final 
conception  of  the  new-day  type. 

He  has  worked  for  four  vears  on  it.  So  have 
47  other  HUDSON  engineers.'  Thus  this  HUDSON 
Six-40  is  their  composite  idea  of  the  modern  high- 
grade  car.  It  is  their  latest  and  best,  in  big  things 
and  little — in  beauty  and  in  mechanism,  in  equip- 
ment and  detail. 


If  there  are  faults  or  shortcomings — if  any  car  excels    it — 
then  these   48   engineers   are  mistaken.     But  that  isn't   think- 
able.    You  will  find  in  this  HUDSON  Six-40  the  representative 
-  car  of  to-day. 

It  Differ*  in  Degree 

The  HUDSON  Six-40  is  not  unique.  It  is  simply  in  advance 
of  others  in  the  almost  universiil  trends. 

Practically  all  of  the  upper-class  cars  are  now  Sixes.  And 
that  designer  is  rare  who  doesn't  consider  the  Six  as  his  final 
goal.     It  meets  his  ultimate  object — continuous  power. 

Lightness  is  a  common  trend.  The  old  excesses — due  to 
wrong  materials  or  crude  designing — are  being  rapidly  wiped  out. 
The  HUDSO.N  engineers — in  this  2,890-pound  car — have  nearly 
e.vcellcd  their  rivals. 

Low  operative  cost  is  sought  for  by  makers  and  users  alike. 
But  the  HUDSON  Six-40  saves  more  than  others,  by  record 
lightness  in  this  class  and  by  a  new-type  motor. 

All  aim  at  beauty,  comfort  and  attractions  in  equipment. 
But  4-<  designers  have  worked  four  years  in  perfecting  the 
HUDSON  refinements. 

And  the  price  trend  is  generally  lower.  Larger  production 
and  standardization  make  this  expected  and  possible.  But  the 
new  HUDSON  Six-40— selling  $200  lower  than  last  year — best 
shows  what  efficiency  can  do. 

Five  Bodies— No  Delays 

The  HUDSON  Six-40  is  built  this  year  with  five  beautiful 

new-style  bodies.  Note  the  list  below.  Each  oflFers  countless 
up-to-date  attractions,  some  of  which  are  exclusive  to  this  car. 
With  our  trebled  output  this  year  we  are  coping  with  de- 
mand. We  go  to  extremes  to  save  delays  to  our  buyers.  Up  to 
this  writing,  45  per  cent,  of  all  this  season's  shipments  have 
gone  out  by  express — trainloads  to  single  cities. 

To-day  you  can  get  prompt  delivery',  despite  this  car's 
amazing  popularity,  (io  see  your  HUDSON  dealer.  If  he  can- 
not deliver  a  car  at  once,  he  will  see  that  you  don't  wait  long. 

Hudson  dealers  everywhere.     Catalog  on  request. 
7-passenger  Phaeton,  $2,100. 
3-passenger  Roadster,  same  price. 
Cabriolet,  $2,375     Coupe,  $2,900     Limousine,  $3,450. 
Prices  quoted  are  all  f.  o.  b.  Detroit,  duty  paid. 


HUDSON  Six-40 
Phaeton 


\=; 


\\  = 


HUDSON  MOTOR  CAR  COMPANY,  7930  Jefferson  Avenue,  DETROIT,  MICH. 


..// 


^ 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


441 


passed  into  a  proverb  in  that  part  of 
Wiltshire. 

But  they  would  not  agree;  the 
groom  said  he  wanted  Justice. 

"That  would  be  a  shirt  full  of  sore 
bones,"  cried  Westcome,  "and  I'm 
the  lad  to  give  them  to  you,  if  you'll 
come  out  on  the  green,  and  stand  up 
like  a  man,  and  the  gentlemen  can  see 
fair  play." 

One  of  the  quorum  who  took  pleasure 
in  the  refined  amusements  of  bear- 
baiting,  badger-drawing,  and  cock- 
fighting,  thought  it  a  good  idea,  but 
his  colleagues  would  not  consent,  and 
decided  to  dismiss  the  case  with  a  light 
fine. 

"  Wherever  there  is  mischief, 
there's  sure  to  be  a  woman  at  the 
bottom  of  it,"  said  one  magnate  who 
was  cynical  and  a  bachelor. 

"The  girl  must  be  a  shrew  to  have 
scratched  thy  face  for  a  kiss,"  said 
another  consolingly,  "and  thy  enemy 
will  get  his  punishment  when  he 
marries  her." 

John  Heneage,  Esq.,  had  the  last 
word.  He  rang  the  bell,  and  ordered 
the  man  who  answered  it,  to  take  the 
aggrieved  Francis  to  the  servants'  hall 
"and  make  him  comfortable  with 
some  good  ale;  tell  the  womenfolks  to 
be  kind  to  him  for  he's  suffered  from 
the  fair  sex." 

To  Westcome  he  said;  "Never  show- 
such  a  scowling  face  as  that  to  thy 
betters,  lad.  You  have  had  your 
frolic,  backing  the  wenches  in  their 
malice,  and  have  to  take  the  conse- 
quences like  any  other  champion  of 
dames.  You've  got  out  of  it  easy, 
and  it  ought  to  teach  you  wit.  You've 
lost  the  day's  work  and  must  pay  the 
fine,  but  Cicely  will  make  it  up  to  you, 
for  I  hear  she's  a  clever  and  kind 
little  maid,  take  her  on  the  right 
side." 

Cicely  did  make  it  up  to  him  at  the 
age  of  twenty-seven,  when  Miss  Kem 
died;  and  St.  George's  bells  rang 
merrily  for  their  wedding.  Westcome 
was  a  well-to-do  man  by  that  time 
and  removed  to  the  county  of  Hants. 
He  drove  Cicely  across  the  Downs 
to  his  home  in  his  own  tax  cart.  As 
they  were  bowling  along,  he  said,  "I've 
two  surprises  for  thee,  lass.  The 
first  is  that  my  cot  and  bit  o'  land  are 
my  own.  I  am  a  freeholder  and  have 
a  vote.  The  last  and  best  I  leave  thee 
to  find  out." 

She  found  out  the  best  surprise, 
the  instant  he  lifted  her  down  from 
the  cart;  two  sturdy  young  wall- 
flowers, one  on  each  side  of  the  front 
door.  He  had  bought  them  of  a 
famous  florist  to  be  sure  of  the  right 
colors;  but  alas  !  there  is  no  perfection 
in  unconverted  human  nature,  even 
among  flower)-  men.  "When  they 
blos-somed,"  said  Cicely  with  a  gentle 
.sigh,  "they  were  a  pale  yaller." 


Sturdier  Tires 

In  These  Four  Ways  Excelling  All  the  Rest 


The  tires  which  rule  in  Tiredom 
now  are  Goodyear  tires — bylongodds. 

After  men  have  used  four  mil- 
hons  of  them,  they  lead  in  prestige 
and  in  sales. 

The  only  reason  is  that  motorists 
— hundreds  of  thousands  of  them — 
have  proved  these  the  sturdiest  tires. 
They  use  them  and  tell  other  men  to 
use  them. 

Where  They  Excel 

Back  of  that  super-service  lie  four 
exclusive  features.  They  are  these: 

Our  No-Rim-Cut  feature. 
Time  has  proved  it  the  only  satis- 
factory way  to  completely  wipe  out 
rim-cutting. 

Our  "On- Air"  cure.  This 
exclusive  process  costs  us  heavily,  but 
it  ends  the  chief  cause  of  blow-outs. 

Our  rubber  rivets.  By  a  pat- 
ent method,  hundreds  of  these  are 
formed  in  each  tire  to  combat  tread 
separation.  They  reduce  this  risk  by 
sixty  per  cent 


All-Weather  treads— the 

matchless  anti-skids.  They  are  tough, 
double  thick  and  enduring.  Resistless 
on  wet  roads  with  their  deep,  sharp 
grips;  yet  flat  and  smooth,  so  they 
run  Hke  a  plain  tread. 

Upper  Class  Tires 
How  to  Get  Them 

These  things  make  Goodyears 
the  upper  class  tires.  No  other 
maker  employs  them.  And  no  other 
method  combats  oneof  these  troubles 
in  an  equally  efficient  way. 

These  things  mean  safety,  slurdiness 
and  strength.  They  mean  maximum 
mileage  and  minimum  trouble. 

When  one  tire  gives  them — and  others 
don't — you  should  get  the  tire  that  does. 

Any  dealer  will  supply  you  if  you  say 
you  want  this  tire.  He  will  sell  it  to  you 
at  a  price  impossible  were  it  not  for  our 
mammoth  output. 

It  is  up  to  you.  Note  again  these 
extra  features.  Then  ask  some  Goodyear 
user  what  it  means  to  have  such  tire?. 

Find  out  why  Goodyear  leads. 


GoODyC^YEAR 

^^  ^=^        TORONTO 

No-Rim-Cut  Tires 

With  All- Weather  Treads  or  Smooth 


The  Goodyear  Tire  &  Rubber  Company  of  Canada^ 

Head  Office:  TORONTO,  ONT.  LIMITED  Factory,  BOWMAN VILLE,  ONT. 

FOR  SALE  BY  ALL  DEALERS 


442 


If  your  jars 
are  well 
cleaned  an4 
scalded 

and  tht  right 
proportions  of 
StLawrenceSugar 

and  fruits  are  used,  your 
confections  will  not  ferment 
or  spoil  but  will  remain  pure, 
fresh  and  sweet  for  years. 
St.  Lawrence  Extra  Gran- 
ulated Sugar  is  the  ideal  pre- 
serving sugar,  as  it  is  made 
from  the  finest  selected,  fully 
matured  cane  sugar  and  is 
99.99^    pure. 

St.  Lawrence  Extra  Granulated 
Sugar  is  sold  in  2  lb.  and  5  lb. 
cartons,  also  in  bags  of  10  lbs.,  20 
lbs.,  25  lbs..  SO  lbs.,  and  100  lbs.  in 
three  sized  drains  —  fine,  medium 
and  coarse. 

Order  a  bag  of  St.  Lawrence 
Ev.  Granulated— the  blue  !tag,  or 
medium  grain,  suits  most  people  best. 

St.  Lawrence  Sugar  Refineries, 
Limited,  Montreal. 


5-7-W 


CANADA   MONTHLY 

When  They  Said 
Good-bye 

Continued  from  page  412. 

crowd,  "  'of  whom  then  shall  I  be 
afraid.'     He  sang   that   last   Sunday. 

"Hush,"  whispered  her  friend, 
"there's  his  mother." 

"Goodbye  Tom,  goodbye,"  called 
a  loose-haired  Cockney  girl  to  her 
brother,  "tike  care  o'  yourself." 

"You  bet  !"  was  the  laughing  re- 
sponse.    Tom    had    "served"    before. 

"Nothink  like  a  little  blood  'ud 
make  'im  sick,"  said  his  sister  proudly. 
She  was  scrublidy  to  a  Bank  down 
town,  but  no  officer's  sister  held  her 
head  higher. 

"Were's  Charlie  ?"  called  Tom, 
"  'ere,  you,  Charlie,  don't  you  get  in 
any  of  these  'ere  r'ilroad  accidents 
w'ile  I'm  gone." 

Charlie  smiled  feebly.  Charlie  had 
a  wife  and  two  kiddies  or  'e'd  a'  gone 
'isself. 

"I  don't  see  him.  I  can't — see — 
anything  !"  moaned  Bessie,  crying  on 
her  pink  voile.  "Oh,  there  he  is  ! 
He's  in  the  car  window,  but  he  doesn't 
see  me." 

"Never  mind,  dear,"  said  the  sad- 
eyed  woman  next  her,  who  had  come 
to  see  the  Handsomest  Officer  entrain, 
"we'll  think  hard  and  we'll  wave  our 
hands  and  maybe  he'll  look.  Oh,  I 
wish  I  could  tell  my  son — which  one, 
dear  ? — third  window  ?" 

Very  gallantly  the  Handsomest 
Officer's  mother  waved  her  little  gloved 
hand.  But  Dickie  Dreadnought's 
questing  eyes  searched  heaven  and 
earth  and  the  fringe  of  men  on  the 
station  top,  without  ever  sighting 
either  of  the  wavers.  They  were 
gradually  working  their  way  toward 
him,  but  at  this  rate  it  would  take  an 
hour. 

Then,  down  at  the  train-head,  the 
band  struck  up  the  regiment's  march- 
ing song,  the  ranting,  lilting  "British 
Grenadiers."  The  engine  bell  rang, 
and  slowly  the  cars  started. 

As  though  you  had  touched  a  match 
to  a  mine,  a  roar  broke  from  the 
crowd.  It  wasn't  a  cheer.  It  was  too 
deep  for  that.  And  on  the  crest  of  it, 
arms  shot  high,  hats  were  waved,  and 
the  train  windows  broke  into  a  fire- 
works of  Service  caps,  tossed  off  in 
return. 

"And  he  never  saw  her  !"  said  the 
reporter  regretfully  as  the  green  flags 
grew  smaller  in  tlie  east. 


=  "Why     yes  !"     cried     the     officer's 


mother,  "didn't  you  see  ?  She  got 
through  just  at  the  last  second,  and 
tliat  Englishman  they  were  calling 
Chariie  picked  her  up  in  his  arms  and 
held  her  as  high  as  the  car  window 
and  he  kissed  her." 


Holiday  Jewellery 

You  may  be  puzzled  to  know 
what  is  new  and  desirable  in 

Jewellery 

Diamond  Mounting 

and  Watches 

for  this  season.  A  letter  of 
enquiry  will  bring  the  infor- 
mation you  require. 

We  are  experts  in  remodel- 
ling old  jewellery  and  special 
pieces.  Sketches  and  estimates 
can  be  promptly  supplied. 

JOHN  S.  BARNARD, 

194  Dundas  Street, 
LONDON,  -  -  CANADA 


Beautiful 
Gun-Metal 
Watches 


FREE 


Udiei'  tize.  No.  20O6 


These  WATCHES  which  we  offer  you,  abso- 
lutely free,  are  something  new  ana  striking. 
They  are  the  n^-w  thin  model  style,  guaranteed 
Swiss  movement  with  the  popular  and  beautiful 
satin-linished  gun-metal  case,  fancy  dial  and 
hands,  and  French  crystal.  Wc  will  also  engrave 
any  monogram  you  desire  free. 

We  are  really  enthusiastic  about  these  watches. 
because  they  are  the  best  thing  wc  ha\e  seen  for 
a  long  time,  and  we  want  yuu  to  have  one.  All 
you  have  to  do  is  sell  only  36  packages  (of  cix 
cards  each)  of  our  finely-colored  season  and  pic- 
ture post  cards  at  10c.  a  package. 

We  give  you  free  coupons  to  give  tiith  each 
package,  ukich  makes  them  sell  on  sight. 

Don't  send  us  any  money  until  you  have  sold 
the  cards,  then  remit  us  our  S3.60  and  stale 
what  monogram  you  want  on  your  w.^Ich  and  it  is 
yours.  We  prepay  postage  on  post  cards  and 
premium. 

Don't  delay — write  us  now — these  watches  arc 
beauties  and  will  go  like  hot  cakes. 

When  ordering  slate  number  of  watch  wanted 
(numbers  shown  above  watches). 

Ask  for  our  big  catalog  of  premiums. 


COLONIAL  ART  CO. 


DESK    ■    3 
TORONTO,    ONT. 


CANADA   MONTHLY   ADVERTISER 


443 


EI 

□ 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 


PAY  THE  PRICE  FOR 
SAFETY  IN  MOTORING 

D.  T.  T.  LIST. 

Ever  in  evidence  wherever  motor  cars  go,  DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD 
is  the  surest  assurance  that  motorists  have  the  correct  viewpoint  on  the 
dangers  of  skidding. 

Safety  of  those  motoring  with  him  is  the  first  thought  of  the  motorist. 

Such  like  first  thoughts  always  lead  to  DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD 
as  the  first  choice  in  the  big  range  of  tires  now  possible  to  get. 

No  motoring  car  is  as  radically  different  to  other  motor  cars  as  DUNLOP 
TRACTION  TREAD  is  to  other  motor  tires. 

Watch  cars  going  by  at  good  speed  and  DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD 
is  the  only  tire  you  can  recognize  in  action. 

Walk  back  from  a  number  of  cars  in  a  row  and  you'll  find  that  the  last 
tire  you  can  name  is  DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD. 


A 


DVi^Wh 


\^EAD 


These  last  two  points  are  not  mentioned  because  in  themselves  they  have  any  value, 
but  what  they  lead  up  to  is  this:  DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD  has  an  individuality  all 
its  own,  and  that  individuality  covers  Looks.  Construction.  Service. 

What  your  eyes  immediately  notice  in  DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD  are  those 
big  "Vs." 

We  are  the  only  tire  [manufacturers  who  have  gone  to  the  limit  in  order  to  make  a 
tire  Master  Of  The  Road. 

In  comparison  with  us  all  other  tire-makers  underestimate  the  dangers  of  skidding 

When  we  sell  you  DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD  we  sell  you  Safety  First  and  these 
other  features. 


66  CUBIC  INCHES  LARGER 
NEVER  DID  RIM-CUT 
NO  LOOSENED  TREADS 


50%  LESS  ROAD  FRICTION 
MINIMUM  PUNCTURES 
MAXIMUM  MILEAGE 


While  it  was  far  from  being  the  lowest-price  tire  DUNLOP  TRACTION  TREAD  in 
less  than  three  years  jumped  to  the  front  in  general  favor  with  motorists  all  over  Canada. 

Ail  of  which  ought  to  pretty  nearly  convince  you  that  the  only  profitable  way  to  get  your  money's 
worth  in  tire  buying  is  to  go  determined  to  purchase ^the  tire  which  has  all  the  merits  ^possible — then  pay 
the  necessary  price  T-Ill 


B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 

B 


444 


WRITTEN  IN 
CANADA 

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HISTORY 

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LOOK  FOR  THESE  BOOKS  AT 
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ONT. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

The  Red  Badge 
of  Courage 

Continued  from  page  399. 

been  made  to  impress  the  idea  of  work- 
ing on  both  sides  of  the  question. 

The  plan  of  organization  has  been 
kept  quite  simple.  One  part  of  the 
committee  works  under  the  Red  Cross 
with  captains  for  the  various  depart- 
ments, such  as  House  Work  and  Hos- 
pital supplies,  offers  of  service,  pat- 
terns, etc.  The  other  works  under  the 
Social  Service  League,  with  a  general 
Civic  Work  committee,  composed  of  a 
number  of  captains,  one  from  each 
section  of  the  city. 

In  the  Headquarters  at  559  Sher- 
bourne  Street,  there  is  a  busy  hum 
from  early  morning  until  late  at  night. 
Public  and  private  generosity  has 
loaned  the  building,  furnished  it,  com- 
pletely wired  it  with  electricity,  instal- 
led gas,  and  even  provided  such  small 
etceteras  as  waste  baskets  and  note 
books.  The  light  in  headquarters,  by 
the  way,  cannot  possibly  "fail,"  as  the 
building  has  been  wired  by  both  city 
electrical  companies. 

Some  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the 
task  which  confronts  the  women  of 
Canada  is  gained  from  a  glance  over 
the  list  of  supplies  needed  by  the  Red 
Cross  Society  properly  to  equip  the 
25,000  men  offered  for  the  first  con- 
tingent alone.  From  statistics  of  pre- 
vious wars,  it  was  gathered  that  five 
per  cent,  of  the  men  at  the  front  were 
in  hospital,  either  sick  or  wounded, 
within  six  weeks  of  their  going  into 
active  service.  In  proportion  then 
there  must  be  provision  made  in  Can- 
ada for  1,250  sick.  Of  this  number 
Toronto  undertook  to  provide  for  one 
fifth,  Hamilton  for  one  hundred,  and 
other  cities  have  announced  their  readi- 
ness to  undertake  their  share. 

How  to  meet  the  needs  of  her  two 
hundred  and  fifty  men  was  Toronto's 
problem,  solved  for  the  most  part  by 
the  forming  of  neighborhood  societies. 
And  here  is  where  the  true  unselfish- 
ness called  up  by  such  a  cause  is  best 
shown.  It  is  not  an  Anglican  society 
working  together,  nor  a  Presbyterian, 
nor  a  Methodist,  but  a  neighborhood 
society,  composed  very  often  of  women 
who  have  mever  spoken  to  each  other 
before,  but  who  become  the  friendliest 
of  co-workers,  comparing  notes  over 
the  tightness  or  looseness  of  a  knitting 
stitch  in  the  making,  of  wristlets  and 
cholera  bands,  or  the  length  of  a 
hospital  night  gown.  These  neighbor- 
hood societies  have  provided  their  own 
material  and  made  it  up  at  some 
central  meeting  place.  In  one  case 
this  was  a  Sunday-school  room,  in 
another,  a  room  in  a  public  institution. 
More  often,  it  has  been  found  at  the 
house,  of  one  of  the  workers.       There 


The  Joy 

Of  Never  Having 

Corns 


Since  Blue-jay  was  invented, 
millions  of  people  know  the  joy 
01  never  having  corns. 

They  apply  Blue-jay  as  soon 
as  they  feel  a  corn.  And  never 
again  do  they  feel  it.  In  48 
hours  the  corn  loosens  and 
comes  out. 


Blue-jay  costs  about  five  cents 
per  corn.  It  is  applied  in  a  minute. 
It  involves  no  pain  or  soreness. 
And  it  always  acts.  Think  what 
folly  it  is  to  have  corns. 

Don't  iudge  Blue-Jay  by  other 
treatments  which  have  prDved  so 
ineffective.  Give  it  one  chance 
to  show.  A  million  corns  monthly 
are  now  removed  in  this  way. 

Start  to-day  to  know  the  joy  of 
never  having  corns. 


Blue=jay 

Plasters 

End  Corns 


IS  and  25  cents — at  Dra^isls 
Samples  Mailed  Free 

Bauer  &  Black,  Chicago  and  New  York 
Makers  of  Physicians*  Sapplies 


PLAYWRITING 

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Learn  how  to  write  ohotopUTs  sad 
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and  mail  NOW  while  you  think  of  It. 

Name 


Address. 

THEIMOTIOH    PICTURE    SCHOOL 

1  Adelaide  St.  E.,  TORONTO 

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order. 

A.  L.  BENT,  Box  K,  GranviUe  Centre,  N.S. 


It  is  the  Taste,  the  Flavor  of 

BAUER'S 
COCOA 

That  Makes  It 
Deservedly  Popular 


Registered 
Tlade-Mulk 

An  absolutely  pure,  deli- 
cious and  wholesome  food 
beverage,  produced  by  a 
scientific  blending  of 
high-grade  cocoa  beans 
subjected  to  a  perfect  me- 
chanical process  of  mcinu- 
facture. 

Made  in  Canada  by 

WalterBaker&Co.Limited 

Ivftabliflhud  17S0 
Montreal,  Can.       Dorcheiter,  Mau. 


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CARBON    PAPER 

In  black  or  blue,  it  nrver  fade*. 

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'■■  :i-0  Copies  '..tn  \-  n.fif 

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f.  y  WEBSTER  CO  367Conpni  St..  Bo«Im.  Mati. 

\r-  York  lh.«go  rtitl.-UJphu  Piitiburtfh 


Onitfd  Typttwrlter  Co.,  1S5  Victoria  St.,  Toronto,  Can. 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

have  been  no  funds  available  from 
headquarters,  but  that  has  been  no 
bar  to  the  rapid  progress.  Heart  con- 
fidences are  exchanged  over  the  cut- 
ting table  by  women  whose  sons  are 
among  the  volunteers,  and  many  a 
tear  has  been  wiped  away  on  the 
rough  flannel  shirts,  and  many  an 
anxious  thought  is  woven  in  with  the 
yarn  which  is  forming  the  grey  army 
socks. 

In  the  upstairs  workroom  of  the 
headquarters,  six  or  eight  sewing  ma- 
chines keep  up  a  constant  whirl  from 
nine  o'clock  until  ten  o'clock,  and 
those  who  have  time  on  their  hands 
are  spending  it  there,  cutting,  sewing, 
knitting  or  packing. 

The  personal  comforts  needed  by 
the  Red  Cross  include  shirts,  under- 
shirts, pyjamas,  night  shirts,  handker- 
chiefs plain  and  of  cheesecloth,  knitted 
night  caps,  woolen  gloves,  all  sorts  of 
toilet  necessaries,  knitted  comforters, 
drawers,  socks,  holdalls  for  toilet 
necessities,  chocolate,  etc.,  while  among 
the  hospital  supplies,  besides  such  very 
necessary  things  as  sheets,  pillow  cases, 
blankets,  bandages,  etc.,  there  is  a 
formidable  list  of  more  technically- 
named  necessities.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered, as  Col.  Ryerson,  the  head  of 
the  Red  Cross  work  in  Toronto,  said 
to  the  workers  at  a  mass  meeting,  that 
a  man  cannot  possibly  get  along  with 
one  shirt  and  that  it  would  be  cruelty 
to  expect  him  to  go  through  the  war 
with  one  pair  of  socks,  so  the  initial 
supply  must  necessarily  be  a  generous 
one,  with  later  reinforcements. 

That  the  League  is  ready  to  meet 
even  emergency  calls  was  evidenced 
by  one  morning's  work  when  a  request 
was  received  from  the  Valcartier  camp, 
for  the  immediate  shipping  of  hospital 
supplies,  including  condensed  milk, 
cocoa,  arrowroot,  cornstarch,  tapioca, 
essence  of  beef,  cooking  chocolate, 
lime  juice,  fruit,  toilet  and  shaving 
soap,  combs,  and  brushes,  wash  tubs 
and  wash  boards,  hand  mirrors  and 
shirts. 

The  list  looked  formidable,  the  tme 
was  after  ten  o'clock  and  the  day 
Saturday,  but  the  telephone  and  the 
auto  came  into  rapid  requisition  and 
the  express  at  noon  carried  off  the 
desired  order. 

It  would  be  hard  to  ascertain  the 
full  number  of  those  working,  for 
wherever  you  turn  there  is  a  busy 
group,  knitting  wash  cloths,  making 
pillow  pads,  filling  kit  bags,  or  hemming 
sheets. 

In  St.  Andrew's  Institute  for  instance, 
so  closely  united  with  the  Forty-eighth 
Highlanders,  every  one,  from  the  little 
girls  of  the  primary  schools  up  to  the 
wives  and  sisters  of  the  officers  and 
men,  has  undertaken  some  work.  The 
Women's  Association  volunteered  to 
supply  kit  bags,  to  make  pillow  cases. 


445 


TheKindtl^^^'^^ 


llivaa- 
cUe 

Gotham 


Jin 
CQNVBVlE/liCE 


IN  POINT  of  ap- 
jjearance  and  com- 
fort in  use  as  a 
Davenport  or  Divan- 
ette,  the  MndH  Kind 
leaves  nothing  to  be 
desired.  In  fact,  the 
KlndH  in  this  service  is 
often  more  comfort- 
able even  than  just 
the  ordinary  one- 
purpose  Davenport. 

For  the  principles  of 
construction  that  gov- 
ern the  making  of  the 
VmiA  Kind  permit  it 
to  be  made  in  the  cor- 
rect proportions  for 
the  utmost  in  appear- 
ance and  comfort. 


OAY   e    NiCfIT    SERVICE 


The  VmUi  Kind  is 
inade  in  three  types 
and  a  wide  range  of 
designs  to  suit  a  va- 
riety of  preferences 
and  space  requirements.  These  three 
types  are  the  Soinersaultic,  the  Dc  Luxe 
and  the  Divanette.  All  accomplish  the 
same  purpose  equally  well — it  is  simply  a 
question  of  which  you  prefer. 

Ask  for  your   copy    of    the    new    lalil 
booklet,  "The  House  That  Grew." 

The  BinM  Bed  Company,  Limited 

7  ClifTord  Street 
New  York  Toroato  Grand  Rapid* 

There  is  a  retail  store  where  you  live 
that  sells  the  SaM  Kind 


DIAMONDS 

$l-$2— $3 
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Write  lo-day  tor  caUl*<ao.  II  la  frao. 
We  Knd  Dinmoadi  to  any  part  of  Canad  (or  Inapertlon, 
at  our  expenar.     Paynienta  may   t>e   made   wtakly   or 
monitily. 

JACOBS  BROS.,  DlaiMad  Inporlara, 
16  Toronto  Arcade,  Toronto.  Canada. 


446 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


ittnudC'Ce 


Of  all  Stores,    etc.,    at  1-oz. 
25  c.  ;  2-oz.  40  c.  ;  4-oz.  70  c.; 

8-oz.  $1.30;   16-oz.  82,25. 
Bovril  Cordial,    large,   $1.25; 

5-oz.,  40  c. 

16-oz.    Johnston's  Fluid  Beef 

(Vimbos),  81.20. 


8ovrd 


How  Do  You  Know  That  You  Are 

Getting  All  the  Time  for  Which 

You  Are  Paying  Wages  ? 

Any  system  of  recording  the 
arrival  and  departure  of  employees 
that  is  dependent  for  its  success 
upon  the  honesty  and  energy  of  a 
clerk  is  liable  to  go  wrong.  Every 
time  keeper  has  his  friends,  his  prejudices, 
and  his  weaknesses.  He  is  only  human  ! 
The  Day  Dial  Time  Recorder  (illustrated 
here)  is  adjusted  and  regulated  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  absolute  accuracy.  It 
cannot  go  wrong  unless  tampered  with, 
and  a  simple  movement  of  the  pointer 
records  the  actual  time  of  arrival  and 
departure  of  each  employee,  "lates"  being 
automatically  shown  in  different  colored 
ink. 

The  Dey  is  made  in  many  different 
sizes  and  styles.  We  have  a  Dey  clock 
that  will  just  suit  your  business.  Cata- 
logue I  has  many  valuable  pointers  for 
every  merchant.     Write  us  for  it. 

International  Time  Recorder  Co. 
of  Canada,  Limited, 

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WHY     YOU      SHOULD     WEAR 


ALL  PURE  WOOL— GUARANTEED  UNSHRINKABLE 

UNDERCLOTHING 

Firstly — There  is  no  better  high-grade 
woollen  underwear  made,  either  in  Canada 
or  abroad,  than  CEETEE.  In  other  words, 
our  own  good  Canada  makes  the  best  under- 
clothing you  ,can  wear,  notwithstanding 
many  people  still  retain  the  old-fashioned 
idea  that  imported  goods  are  best. 

Secondly — On  account  of  the  war,  imported 
underwear  will  be  difficult  to  get,  therefore  this  is 
a  good  opportunity  for  you  to  prove  to  yourself  the  superior  quality  of  "CEETEE  "  Under- 
clothing, made  in  your  own  country. 

Be  economical  this  winter  by  purchasing  "  CEETEE  "  all   pure  wool  Underclothing. 

Every  garment  is  fashioned  during  the  knitting  to  fit  the  contour  of  the  human  form.     It 

has  all  selvedge  edges  and  all  joins  are  knitted  together  (not  sewn).     Only  the   very   finest 

and  absolutely  clean  Australian  Merino  wool  is  used — so  soft  that  an  infant  could  wear  it. 

Guaranteed  not  to  shrink.  It  is  made  in  Canada  from  British  wool. 

THE   C.  TURNBULL  CO.  OF  GALT,  LIMITED 

GALT  .        ONTARIO 


Look  for  the  Sheep  on  Every  Garment 

Worn  by  the  Best  People 
Sold  by  the  Best  Dealers 


and  also  to  cut  and  prepare  pillow 
pads  for  the  members  of  the  Business 
Girls'  Club  of  the  Church  to  take  home 
and  make  up  in  their  spare  time.  The 
amount  of  work  thus  accomplished  is  a 
proof  of  the  assertion  that  the  busiest 
people  are  often  the  best  workers. 
The  women  of  the  Forty-eighth  High- 
landers Chapter  of  the  I.  O.  D.  E.,  all 
wives  or  sisters  of  the  volunteers,  chose 
as  their  share  of  the  relief  the  making 
of  bed  socks,  pillows  and  pillow  pads. 
The  manifold  uses  of  the  latter  were 
discovered  in  the  South  African  war, 
when  ninety  of  these  little  soft  squares, 
made  of  cheese  cloth  and  filled  with 
wadding  were  given  by  one  old  lady. 

Every  care  has  been  taken  with  the 
making  of  these  comforts,  and  every 
thread  for  cutting  has  been  truly 
drawn  that  they  may  be  a  real  "com- 
fort" to  a  wounded  soldier. 

"We  are  making  two  hundred  of 
these  for  the  soldiers,"  explained  a 
worker,  whose  husband  is  one  of  the 
officers,  "but  we  are  going  to  look 
after  our  own  men  particularly  this 
winter,  and  the  women  left  behind." 

They  don't  talk  much  about  the 
war,  these  women.  They  are  begin- 
ning to  realize  some  of  the  deeps 
sounded  by  the  women  in  the  mother 
country  to  whom  war  is  a  closer  thing, 
and  as  one  of  the  older  workers,  said  as 
she  bent  over  the  sewing  table.  "We 
must  not  think  or  talk  about  it  while 
we  are  preparing,  or  we  could  never  get 
done.     These  things  bring  it  so  close." 

There  are  many  energetic  bodies  of 
women  in  the  city  who  have  not  only 
accomplished  what  they  promised  to 
undertake  but  have  far  exceeded  their 
voluntary  contribution.  There  is  the 
Red  Cross  Auxiliary  of  North  Toronto, 
who  completed  over  three  thousand 
housewives,  containing  safety  pins, 
darning  needles,  sewing  needles,  thim- 
bles, scissors,  buttons,  linen  thread, 
black  and  grey  darning  wool.  They 
have  been  working  together  with  un- 
abated zeal,  and  have  announced  their 
intention  of  continuing  as  long  as  the 
war  lasts. 

The  "women  of  the  hill"  as  the  mem- 
bers of  the  neighborhood  society  work- 
ing at  the  Methodist  Deaconess  House 
style  themselves,  have  chosen  the  mak- 
ing of  pyjamas  as  their  work,  and  have 
turned  them  out  in  large  numbers. 

Another  neighborhood  society  com- 
prising the  women  of  the  more  northerly 
portion  of  the  city  are  spending  all 
available  time  in  St.  Luke's  school- 
room where  sewing  machines  are  busy 
running  long  seams,  and  ready  fingers 
are  transforming  bolts  of  cotton  and 
flannel  into  sheets  and  pillow  cases. 
It  matters  little  whether  the  sun  shines 
or  the  rain  comes  down  in  torrents 
outside,  mothers  and  daughters  are 
working  side  by  side  without  cessation, 
for  this  is  no  "fair  weather"  work. 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


447 


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WINNIPEG  TO 


f  ST.  PAUL 

I  MINNEAPOLIS 

QTPAITI  i  CHICAGO 

3  1 .  r  A  U  L  I    MILWAUKEE 

MINNEAPOLIS  *"  ]  DULUTH 

I  SUPERIOR 


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EASY  WAY  SOUTH 

V^.\ro.  SAFETY  AND  COURTESY 


).  C.  PETERSON   C*nera/  Agent.  h.  P.  WENTH,  District  Passenger  Aamt 

J.  E.  DOUGHERTT,  Travelling  Agent.  222  B.nnatyne  Ave.,  WINNIPEG,  MAN. 

W.  R.  SHELDON  D.F.  and  P.A..  205  El?hth  Ave..  West.  Calwrf.  Alt*.:    F    H    MflBTAnOH 
TrtT.  Pt.  .nd  P.,.  Ajt.,  Ajancy  Bldj.,  Bdmoaton.  aIu.;   H.  T ToTpf  f.A..  Moo.e  J^wf  S?.1 


448 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


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Do  you  know  the  "reason  why"  this  great  war  blaze  started  ?  Are  Europe's  millions  mad  for 
blood  just  because  an  Austrian  Prince  was  shot?  Read  these  timely  books  and  you  can 
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invaluable  for  handy  reference.  It  contains  300  pages  of  up-to^iate  maps,  pronouncing  index,  and  challenges 
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In  the  present  war  a  map  of  Europe  is  of  little  use;  besides  being  of  an  unwieldly  and  cumbersome  size  the 
actual  fighting-area  is  never  shown  in  enough  detail.  Here,  however,  we  have  large  scale  maps  of  the  Kiel  Canal, 
Belgian  Frontier,  Eastern  France.  German  Colonies,  Cities  of  Antwerp,  Brussels,  Paris,  etc. 

A  GERMAN  PLOT  AGAINST  ENGLAND,  is  the  subject  of  THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  SANDS.  The  author  is  an 
authority  on  military  matters  and  his  book  created  such  a  stir  as  to  lead  the  British  War  Office  to  investigate  the 
feasability  of  the  plot.  It  is  illustrated  with  four  charts  of  the  Dutch  and  German  coasts. 
THE  WAR  IN  THE  AIR.  Mr.  Wells' famous  romance  is  particularly  appropriate  reading  at  this  moment. 
WITH  KITCHENER  TO  KFARTCM,  by  G.  W.  Sfevens.  So  little  is  generally  known  of  Earl  Kitchener's  personal- 
ity (beyond  his  reticence  and  self-effacement)  that  his  present  heavy  responsibilities  lend  an  additional  interest  to 
this  account  of  his  earliest  great  achievement. 

MAINSPRINGS  OF  RUSSIA  and  WHAT  I  SAW  IN  RUSSIA.  What  do  you  know  about  Russia?  Uttle  or 
nothing,  unless  you  are  very  different  from  the  average  man.  To  understand  the  part  our  Russian  allies  are  to  play  in 
this  great  conflict  one  should  read. these  two  books  by  the  Hon.  Maurice  Baring — luc'd,  vivid,  terse  and  authoritative. 
IN  ACTION,  by  F.  Britten  Austin.  We  read  in  the  papers  such  items  as  "the  enemy  attacked  in  force,  and  pushed 
forward  until  close  to  our  main  defence."  or  that  "a  detachment  of  cavalry  and  light  artillery  was  caught  in  an 
ambush,  and  annihilated."  but  how  many  of  us  realize  what  modern  warfare  feels  like  to  the  man  in  the  firing  line? 
THE  ANGLO-GERMAN  PROBLEM,  by  Chas.  Sarolea.  Dr.  Sarolea  is  among  those  who  foresaw  the  conflict,  and 
his  book  makes  particularly  piquant  reading  now  the  thunderbolt  has  fallen.  As  a  Belgian  by  birth,  a  Scottish 
Professor  by  calling,  and  a  cultured  cosmopolitan  by  instinct,  he  is  well  qualified  to  sum  up  impartially  the  rights 
and  wrongs  of  the  rivalry  between  Germany,  and  Britain. 

FAMOUS  MODERN  BATTLES,  by  Captain  Atteridge.  Although  written  by  a  military  expert,  the  author's  style 
is  so  lucid  t  hat  the  finer  points  of  the  tactics  and  strategy  are  clear  as  noonday  to  the  ordinary  reader.  The  battles 
include:  Lule  Burgas,  Mukden,  Paardeberg  Omduiman.  Tel-el-Kebir,  Rezonville  and  GrBvellotte  of  1870, 
Chancellorsville  and  Gettysburg.     There  are  copious  plans  of  each  battle. 

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Canada's  eyes  are  on  the  bulletin  board  these  days. 
And  it  isn't  baseball — IT'S  WAR.  The  newspapers 
can  give  you  a  battle  in  two  lines.  But  to  get  the 
life,  the  color,  the  world-convulsing  movement  of  the 
thing,  you  need  the  space  that  a  magazine  alone  can 
give.  CANADA  MONTHLY  has  four  correspondents 
with  our  own  contingent,  four  boys  wearing  the  King's 
uniform  who  have  promised  to  dig  ditches  by  day  and 
write  home-letters  at  night.  Besides  this,  the  maga- 
zine has  special  War-writers  at  the  home  base,  practical 
men  who  will  take  Canada's  financial  pulse,  idealists 
who  will  count  the  heart-throbs  of  the  Empire  as 
the  second  Contingent  musters,  and  the  women  give 
up  their  men  for  the  Front.  You  can't  get  the  War- 
feel  without  it— THE  MAGAZINE  THAT  GOES 
WITH  THE  CONTINGENT. 


The  filling  of  kit  bags  has  been 
chosen  by  a  large  number  of  the 
women,  and  though  the  taste  of  the 
workers  may  run  more  to  pinks  and 
blues  for  the  pyjamas  than  military 
regulations  would  seem  to  allow,  they 
will  be  no  less  appreciated  by  the  boys 
who  wear  them,  and  a  little  pincushion 
inscribed  "God  is  love"  which  called 
up  a  few  quiet  smiles  among  the  on- 
lookers as  it  was  slipped  into  the  kit 
bag,  may  have  a  truer  significance 
among  the  horrors  of  war,  than  one 
would  dream  of. 

From  east  to  west  have  come  rejxjrts 
of  enthusiastic  work  and  though  there 
may  be  a  little  difference  of  opinion 
amongst  the  experienced  knitters  as 
to  the  length  and  width  of  the  wrist- 
lets which  have  been  hurried  on 
account  of  an  appeal  from  camp,  the 
Red  Cross  regulations  which  have  been 
given  out  have  been  carefully  followed 
that  there  may  be  a  uniformity  among 
the  contributions  sent, 

As  might  be  expected,  the  nurses 
are  not  only  willing  to  give  their  pro- 
fessional services  but  also  their  spare 
time  to  the  cause. 

After  an  enthusiastic  meeting  at  the 
Toronto  General  Hospital,  it  was 
decided  to  devote  several  rooms  in  the 
Graduate  Nurses'  Club,  to  sewing  the 
promised  three  hundred  hospital  night 
shirts  to  be  cut  out  at  the  General  and 
the  Sick  Children's  Hospitals.  That 
they  have  the  stamp  of  practical  knowl- 
edge adds  not  a  little  to  their  useful- 
ness. 

The  Imjjerial  Order  of  the  Daughters 
of  the  Empire  have  fully  carried  out 
their  name,  sending  in  supply  after 
supply  of  articles,  for  the  comfort  of 
the  men  both  sick  and  well,  even  form- 
ing new  Chapters  for  the  sake  of  carrying 
on  the  good  work,  one  Chapter  pro- 
viding one  hundred  shirts,  another 
taking  sheets,  pillows,  etc. 

From  the  outlying  districts  of  Tor- 
onto have  constantly  come  loyal  offers. 
Between  fifty  and  sixty  women  of 
Centre  Island  have  been  sewing  un- 
ceasingly, making  handkerchiefs, 
sheets,  pillow  cases,  etc.,  and  the  list 
of  completed  articles  was  a  monument 
to  their  generosity  and  energy. 

The  Patriotic  societies  such  as  the 
United  Empire  Loyalists'  Association 
have  been  and  are  doing  their  part, 
making  and  filling  kit  bags,  etc.,  and 
even  the  Women's  Art  Association  has 
been  an  auxiliary. 

Aside  from  Toronto's  part  in  the 
Red  Cross  work,  from  every  town  and 
city  in  Ontario  have  come  reports  of 
the  same  zealous  work.  Each  muni- 
cipality with  its  boys  in  the  contingent, 
has  also  its  women  ready  to  stand 
behind  them  and  see  to  it  that  priva- 
tion and  suffering  are  not  added  to  the 
horrors  of  war — if  all  their  loving  work 
can  prevent  it.     Money  collected  by 


^SlMlilll 


CANADA  MONTHLY  ADVERTISER 


449 


lllimiUIIIIIIIHIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHHIUIMIIItMIHIIIIIUIIIIUIIIIMHHI'"''""''""'''''' V^^^^ 


Get  Your 
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from  the 

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'HY  farm  on  high-priced,  worn  out  lands  when  the 
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(M:iku  u  cTDss  in  llu'  scjuari.'  opiKisilu  thi-  bonk  wiiiiled) 


I        I       I  Informntion  on  bunincsa  and  indu 
I I  opportunities  in  W«ttern  Cnnadn 


CANADIAN  PACIFIC  RAILWAY 

Dept.  of  Natural  ReKourcea 
20  Ninth  Avenue  West,  Calgary,  Alberta 

POR  SALC~  Town  lolt  in  all  growing  towni.     Ask  for  information  con- 
carnini  Industrial  and  Businass  openings  in  all  towns. 


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I  Please  send  nie  the  books  indicated  above. 

I     Name „ 

Address _ 


450 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


A  Day's  Record  near  Parry  Soual. 


Why  Not  a  Hunting  Trip 
This  Fall? 

THE  NEW  BRUNSWICK  FORESTS        THE  LAURENTIANS  OF  QUEBEC 
THE  FAMOUS  KIPAWA  COUNTRY  OF  ONTARIO  AND  QUEBEC 

THE  FRENCH  RIVER  DISTRICT  OF  ONTARIO 
THE  CANADIAN  ROCKIES  VANCOUVER  ISLAND 

Still  abound  with  all  kinds  of  Game 

Get  Out  Your  Rifle 

And  go  to  any  of  those  places — you  are  sure  of  a  good  bag 

Why  not  write  to-day  for  "Fishing  and  Shooting,"  giving  full  particulars 
including  names  of  Guides,  etc.,  obtainable  from  any 

Canadian  Pacific   Agent,  or  C.  E.  E.  USSHER,  Passenger  Traffic  Manager, 

Montreal,  Que. 


HOTEL     LENOX 

North  St.  at  Delaware  Ave., 

BUFFALO,    N.  Y. 

Most  beautiful  location  for  a  city  hotel  in 
America.  Away  from  the  dust  and  noise. 
Modern  and  fireproof. 

EUROPEAN     PLAN. 

Write  for  rates,  also  complimentary  "Guide 
of  Buffalo  and  Niagara  Falls." 

C.  A.  MINER,  Manager. 


subscription,  volunteer  contributions 
and  supplies,  have  poured  in  to  the 
Red  Cross  Society  in  a  way  which 
proves  that  however  long  the  war  may 
last,  and  no  matter  how  many  Can- 
adian men  are  called  to  the  front,  the 
women  are  ready  to  make  and  give  to 
provide  them  with  every  comfort. 

But  it  is  not  only  to  the  cities  that 
the  Red  Cross  Society  turns.  After 
the  contributions  had  been  sent  in  to 
the  Hospital  Ship  Fund  in  generous 
amounts  from  all  the  country  dis- 
tricts of  Ontario,  Mr.  George  A.  Put- 
nam, director  of  the  Women's  Insti- 
tutes for  the  Department  of  Agricul- 
ture, addressed  a  circular  to  the  differ- 
ent branches,  asking  for  contributions 
of  money  and  supplies  for  the  Red 
Cross  work  and  giving  the  wants  of 
the  Society  as  follows: — 3,000  pillows, 
.3,000  to  4,000  flannel  shirts,  10,000  to 
12,000  handkerchiefs  made  of  cheese 
cloth,  2,000  to  .3,000  cholera  belts, 
6,000  to  7,000  pairs  of  socks,  5,000 
housewives  or  mending  kits,  fitted. 

A  heartier  response  could  hardly  be 
imagined.  One  small  institute  volun- 
teered thirty  pillows,  sixty-two  hand- 
kerchiefs, twelve  yards  of  bandages, 
one  hundred  and  forty-three  pillow 
slips.  Another  offered  SIOO.OO  worth 
of  supplies,  another  crab-apple 
jelly  for  the  hospital,  another  $10.00 
worth  of  necessaries  each  month, 
another  fifty  large  pillow  slips  and  a 
dozen  pillows  with  two  dozen  pillow 
slips  to  match,  a  dozen  pairs  of  socks, 
and  a  quilt.  A  pathetic  letter  from 
Peterboro  district,  from  a  mother 
whose  son  was  in  the  first  contingent, 
asked  for  directions  for  making  cholera 
belts,  as  she  was  a  good  knitter  and 
wanted  to  make  a  dozen  "for  our  boys." 

It  was  a  brave  little  woman  at  the 
St.  Lawrence  market  in  Toronto,  who 
gave  the  keynote  to  the  whole  situation 
in  the  country  district,  as  she  talked 
with  a  customer  purchasing  one  of  her 
chickens. 

The  smile  on  her  face  only  added 
pathos  to  the  glisten  of  tears  on  her 
eyelashes,  but  there  was  no  tremble 
in  her  voice  as  she  said, 

"Yes,  indeed,  I  am  working  for  the 
soldiers.  I  have  made  up  all  my 
chicken  and  goose  feathers  into  pillows, 
and  I'm  working  every  afternoon  with 
the  neighbors  around  me  making 
sheets  and  night  shirts,  and  knitting 
belts.  I  have  one  boy  in  the  con- 
tingent, and  another  who  has  volun- 
teered but  has  not  been  accepted  yet. 
People  say,  'How  can  you  let  your 
boys  go  so  lightly  ?'  but,"  with  a 
straightening  of  her  shoulders,  and  a 
brave  smile,  "I  would  be  ashamed  not 
to  give  my  sons  when  they  are  needed. 
I  wouldn't  like  to  have  the  conscience 
of  the  woman  who  refused  to  let  them 
go.  I  love  my  boys,  but  I  couldn't  re- 
fuse to  let  them  fight  for  their  country." 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


453 


That's  the  secret  of  it — the  love  of 
the  old  flag,  which  prompts  the  giving 
of  boys,  and  chickens  and  geese,  with 
the  same  brave  heart.  It  is  a,  like 
spirit  that  possessed  the  farmer's  wife 
near  by,  whose  three  sons  were  all 
fighting  for  the  Empire,  one  a  petty 
officer  on  a  British  war  ship  before 
the  Kiel  canal  that  claimed  the  honor 
of  being  the  first  to  engage  the  German 
fleet,  the  next  a  soldier  in  the  British 
regulars,  and  the  youngest  a  Canadian 
volunteer. 

"My  husband  was  a  veteran  of  the 
British  army  and  would  go  too,  if  he 
were  not  too  old,"  she  said. 


But  there  came  a  day,  like  a  great 
sigh  at  the  end  of  a  rushing  paragraph, 
when  all  the  cholera  bands  were  knitted 
and  all  the  kit  bags  were  full,  and  the 
Toronto  Headquarters  had  itself  house- 
cleaned  for  inspection.  Like  was  piled 
with  like — here  a  grey  mountain  of 
wristlets  for  Valcartier,  yonder  a  pink 
and  blue  crag  of  pyjamas  for  the 
Hospitals. 

Then  the  workers  did  a  little  flag 
waving. 

Every  parcel  was  stuck  full  of  tiny 
British  and  Canadian  banners,  flowers 
blazed  on  the  cutting-tables  and  the 
sewing  machines  rested  from  their 
labors,  each  with  a  bouquet  atop. 

"Everybody's  all  dressed  up  to-day," 
the  reporter  remarked,  as  she  took 
photos  with  the  work  backgrounding 
the  workers. 

A  soft-hearted  friend-in-need  called 
the  newsgatherer  aside  to  admire  a 
Balaclava  cap. 

"Don't  whisper  it,"  she  said,  "but — 
the  Duchess  is  coming  at  eleven 
o'clock  !" 

The  limousine  drove  up  with  as  little 
notice  as  would  have  been  accorded  to 
the  arrival  of  any  other  worker.  Lady 
Gibson  escorted  the  Vice-regal  visitor 
up  the  broad  steps  and  through  the 
flag-decked  rooms,  where  the  ladies 
waited  to  explain  as  the  Duchess 
graciously  questioned.  It  was  all 
simple,  dignified,  in  accord  with  the 
Empire-greatness  of  the  moment. 

But — - 

Did  you  ever  think  that  it  might  be 
hard  to  be  an  ex-German  Princess  in 
the  Canada  of  to-day  ?  Did  it  ever 
strike  you  that  Her  Royal  Highness 
may  not  find  it  easy  to  inspect  Hospital 
supplies  and  listen  to  patriotic  speeches 
and  scan  the  programmes  at  All-Red 
concerts,  when  her  English  comes  less 
easy  than  the  speech  of  the  Vaterland  ? 

This  is  a  day  of  strange  tidings, 
strange  struggles  and  momentous  gifts. 
The  little  countrywoman  is  not  the 
only  brave  lady.  The  Duchess  too, 
unostentatiously  but  with  true  nobility 
of  sacrifice,  wears  her  Red  Badge  of 
Courage. 


THE 


Canadian  Bank   of  Commerce 


HEAD  OFFICE 


TORONTO 


CAPITAL  $15,000,000       REST  $13,500,000 


JOHN  AIRD 

Assistant  General  Manager 


SIR  EDMUND  WALKER.  C.V.O.,  LL.D .  DCL.,  President 

ALEXANDER  LAIRD 

General  Manager 

V  C  BROWN.  Superintendent  of  Centra!  Western  Branches 

BRANCHES  THROUGHOUT  CANADA.  AND  IN  LONDON,  ENGLAND.  ST.  JOHN'S. 
NEWFOUNDLAND.  THE  UNITED  STATES  AND  MEXICO 


SAVINGS  BANK  DEPARTMENT 

Interest  at  the  cunent  rate  is  allowed  on  all  deposits  of  $1.00  and 
upwards.  Sma'l  accounts  are  welcomed.  Accounts  may  be  opened  in 
the  names  of  two  or  more  persons,  withdrawals  to  be  made  by  any  one  of 
the  number. 

Accounts  can  be  opened  and  operated  by  mail  as  easily  as  by  a 
personal  visit  to  the  bank. 


II 


In  the  Heart  o£  Things 


II 


Canadians  visiting  New  York  will  find  that  this  hotel  not  only  offers  unusual  accom- 
modation but  that  pra^ticilly  everything  worth  while  is  right  at  hand— theatres,  depart- 
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TBE 

HOTEL  MARTINIQUE 

BROADWAY  AND  32ND  STREET 

CHARLES  LEIGH  TAYLOR,  President  WALTER  S.  GILSON,  Vice-Preaideot 

WALTER  CHANDLER,  JR.,  Manager 

Provides  three  sumptuous  restaurants  for  the  guests — the  Lous  XV.  salon,  the  Cameo 
Room  and  the  Dutch  Room.  The  most  select  music,  singers  from  the  Metropolitan 
Opera  House  and  a  refined  vaudeville  entertainment  provide  cheerful  settings  for  dinner.-i 
and  suppers.  Table  d'hote  dinner,  $1,50.  Club  breakfast,  60c.  Pleasant  room  and  bath 
$2.50  per  day.     For  liter.iture  and  reservations  address  our  Can  idian  advertising  Agents 


SELLS  LIMITED 

SHAUGHNESSY  BUILDING. 


MONTREAL 


The  Man  Who  Put 
It  Over 

Continued  from  page  398. 

castically  inquired  as  to  whether  the 
Brigadier  was  of  any  possible  use  what- 
soever, and  whether  he  could  lead 
ducks  any  better  than  he  could  lead 
cavalry.  He  finished  his  oration,  which 
which  was  highly  colored  with  cuss- 
words,  with  the  simple  statement  to 
the  effect  that  the  youngest  subaltern 
in   the  other   Cavalry   Brigade  could 


lead  that  of  the  culprit  better  far  than 
he  could  do  so  himself. 

French  is  undoubtedly  a  wonderful 
man.  Except,  perhaps,  in  the  one 
matter  of  considering  that  horses  are 
made  of  iron  and  can  thrive  better  on 
long  and  rapid  marches  than  on  oats, 
his  men  give  him  crcflit  for  never  mak- 
ing a  mistake.  He  was  one  of  the  few, 
almost  the  only  general  in  the  Boer  war 
who  neither  made  an  error  of  judg- 
ment nor  suffered  a  reverse.  That 
says  a  good  deal,  when  one  rememl)ers 
the  nature  of  the  fighting  and  its  rever- 


454 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


The  Pick  of  the  Bulb  World 

All  our  bulbs  are  grown  for  us  especially  and  are  person- 
ally seiecled  by  the  James  Caiter  Sc  Co.  exptrts. 

ThorouKli  tests,  both  before  exportation  and  at  the  Carter 
establishment  at  Kayncs  Park,  London,  assure  sound, 
healthy  bulbs  of  the  very  highest  quality.  Our  Tulips 
and  Narcissus  arc  exceptionally  hardy  and  well  suited  to 
the  Canadian  climate. 

are  unequalled  for  bowl  or  bed   culture. 

The  Carter  catalogue  and  handbook — "Bulbs" — illus- 
trates and  describes  the  choicest  varieties  of  Tulips,  Nar- 
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Toronto 


The  Secret  of  Beauty 

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If  you  valup  your  good  looks  and  desire  a 
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ei-rola 


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System  in  the  Kitchen 

A  Kitchen  Cabinet  brings  "System"  into  the  kitchen  just  the 

same  as  a  Filing  Cabinet  brings  system  into  the  business  office. 

YouVe  been  going  to  get  one  for  your  wife  this  long  time. 


Make  up  your  mind  and  get  her  a 
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very  day.  It's  the  best  filing  sys- 
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The  KNECHTEL  combines 
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all  in  one — with  all  cooking  utensils 
and  supplies  for  preparing  a  meal 
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Look  for  the  Trade  Mark 


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Don't  wait !     Get  her  that  KNECHTEL  to-day. 
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sal  of  all  accepted  tenets  of  strategy 
and  tactics. 

I  found  in  South  Africa  that  if,  in 
any  of  the  towns,  the  surrendered  Boers 
should  ask  whom  you  served  under 
and  you  replied  "French",  they  gaped 
at  you  as  being  something  quite  out 
of  the  common  run  of  British  soldiers. 
He  acquired  an  almost  demoniac  repu- 
tation among  the  Boers  for  being  able  to 
lie  in  two  places  at  once. 

"What  is  the  use  ?"  they  asked. 
We  dig  trenches,  place  cannon,  and 
keep  the  British  back  for  hours;  and 
\\ith  our  spy-glasses  we  think  we  see 
his  cavalry  lurking  behind — but,  pre- 
sently, round  he  comes  on  our  line  of 
retreat." 

It  is  a  curious  and  interesting  fact 
t  hat  in  all  the  despatches  Lord  Roberts 
-ent  to  the  War  Office  while  in  South 
Africa  in  which  French's  name  appear- 
I  d,  the  adjective  "magnificent"  was 
ilways  applied   to  his  work. 

French  it  was  who  made  that  bril 
liant  march  to  the  relief  of  besieged 
Kimberley.  French  it  was  who  was 
mainly  responsible  for  penning  in 
Cronje  at  Paardeberg,  where  he  was 
finally  forced  to  surrender  after  a  gal- 
lant defence  of  his  laager.  When  Kim- 
berley was  relieved  by  French,  he  rode 
into  the  town  at  the  exact  time  Lord 
Roberts  had  wished  for,  having  march- 
ed ninety  miles  with  heavy  artillery 
and  having  fought  two  successful 
engagements  in  four  and.  a  half  days. 

He  is  not  the  stern,  cold,  relentless 
man  that  Kitchener  is.  He  is  more 
like  Lord  Roberts  in  humanity  of 
thought;  but  he  never  lets  his  heart 
sway  him  in  times  of  war.  He  is  a 
demon  for  work  himself;  he  works 
others;  but  he  knows  how  to  take 
care  of  his  men. 

It  is  because  of  all  these  ideally 
soldier-like  qualities,  this  perfection  of 
military  efficiency,  that  the  British 
Empire  feels  confidence  in  the  little 
man.  "Johnny"  French  is  on  the  job, 
and  he  knows  his  job,  they  say,  so  why 
worry  ?  I  am  thinking  that  this  is 
identically  how  his  army  feels.  Kitch- 
ener, the  new  War  Lord,  knows  him 
and  selected  him  for  the  task  that  most 
British  soldiers  would  almost  sell  their 
souls  for.  Kitchener  knows  a  man  when 
he  sees  one.  And  that  is  essentially 
what  little  "Johnny"  French  is — One 
hundred  per  Cent    Afan. 


Wild  Wells 

Continued  from  page  432. 
haze ;  a  geyser  of  fine  sand  was  stream- 
ing upward  and  eating  away  the  lofty 
crown-block. 

Seth  knew  what  it  was.  He  found 
Tom,  and  they  gesticulated  at  each 
other;  they  made  faces,  but  no  audible 
sound.  Their  voices  were  vain  as 
candles  in  the  full  sunlight.  Isach  was 
trying  to  yell  the  same  thing. 

"She's  a  gasser,  blowing  her  head  off." 


The  One 
and  Only 

H.P  SAUCE 

ONE    QUALITY 
ONE    SIZE 
ONE    PRICE 

Stores   sell 
\H.P.~her6 


All  "ARLINGTON  COLLARS"  are  good, 
but  our  CUAUENGl;  BKANO  U  (be  bed 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

They  were  soaked,  drowned,  obliter- 
ated in  a  sea  of  intolerable  noise. 

The  animals  of  the  region  were 
greatly  disturbed.  There  was  much 
breaking  of  harness  on  the  part  of 
horses,  and  one  or  two  galloped  about 
under  empty  saddles;  their  riders  were 
doubtless  stuck  in  the  mud  somewhere, 
head  first.  A  few  pigs,  wandering 
here  and  there,  had  sniffed  at  the  noise 
and  returned  to  their  luxurious  wallows 
in  the  oily  muck. 

Suddenly  Tom  clutched  Seth  and 
pointed.  He  saw  one  of  the  pigs 
struggle  and  pant,  then  fall  over. 
Others  did  the  same.  A  frightened 
hound  came  scurrying  about  for  its 
master,  stopped  short,  shivered,  fought 
for  breath,  dropped  dead.  Chickens 
flopped  on  their  backs  as  if  bowled  over 
by  unheard  shot.  Tom's  helper,  Bill 
Abbot,  suddenly  sniffed  the  air,  and 
started  to  run;  he  staggered  like  a 
drunkard,  and  fell.  Seth  and  Tom 
dashed  for  him,  holding  their  breath, 
and  dragged  him  from  danger. 

Seth  thought  of  his  family.  A 
sluggish  river  of  fatal  gas  was  flowing 
toward  the  boarding-house.  He  covered 
his  nose  with  his  handkerchief  and  ran. 

When  he  dashed  into  his  own  room, 
he  found  Alice  huddled  under  the  bed 
clothes,  wrapping  the  pillow  about  her 
ears  and  the  baby's.  He  caught  her  up 
in  his  arms  and  ran  with  her. 

Tom  had  followed  Seth  into  the 
house  and  now  followed  him  out,  drag- 
ging the  landlady  and  her  daughter, 
each  by  an  arm.  Mrs.  Bunnell,  at  that 
hour,  was  not  ready  to  receive,  and  she 
was  scratching  Tom  with  might  and 
main.  Sister  Jane  chiefly  regretted 
her  curl  papers;  she  was  whacking 
Tom  with  a  wire  hairbrush. 

But  the  three  women  were  like  the 
Sabines  in  the  arms  of  the  Romans; 
their  resistance  was  unavailing  till  Seth 
and  Tom  had  gained  a  safe  distance  to 
the  windward.  Then  the  women  could 
look  back  and  see  the  chickens,  the 
pigs  and  the  dogs  lying  asphyxiated  by 
the  invisible  death  that  flowed  stealth- 
ily north,  instantly  paralyzing  any 
living  thing  that  breathed  of  it  deeply. 

When  there  were  no  more  lives  to 
save,  Seth  and  Tom  took  counsel  in 
such  sign  language  as  ihey  could  im- 
provise. 

The  crew  knew  their  business  and 
hurried  to  the  nearest  general  store, 
where  they  got  wads  of  cotton  which 
they  packed  into  their  ears.  Then 
they  went  plf)wing  through  the  greasy 
mud  till  they  found  a  patch  of  blue 
(lay.  They  dug  their  hands  into  it 
and  slappcxi  it  over  their  ears  by  the 
fistful.  When  they  were  masked,  all 
but  the  eyes,  no.se  and  mouth,  they 
followed  Seth's  lead,  and  keeping  to 
the  windward  of  the  deadly  breeze, 
made  a  rush  for  the  derrick. 

The  siuid  blast  that  ate  away  the 
collars  on  the  joints  of  pipe  and  the 
ca.se-hardene<J  rings  of  the  new  rotary 
table,  spared  the  softer  tissues  of  their 


455 


EUROPEAN 

WAR 

24  pages  A  I  LAS  ^^^^^  '"*• 

World's  Greatest  War 


JUST  OFF  THE  PRESS 

This  new  Atlas  is  the  only  complete 
War  Atlas  in  print.  Every  map  is  made 
from  new  plates  just  engraved  and  is 
guaranteed  correct  in  every  detail. 

Maps  —It  contains 
2-PAGE  MAP  OF  EUROPE 
2-PAGE  MAP  OF  THE  WORLD 

(Sliows  Russian  Empire  complete  in  one  stretch) 
2-PAGE  MAP  OF  CENTRAL  EUROPE 

(Mads  especially  to  show  the  war  zone,  fortified 

towns  in  red.  even  the  smallest  towns  arc  shown. 

This  map  is  21  x  14  inches,  and  the  only  one  of 

its  kind  in  print.)  

LARGE  CLEAR  COLORED  MAPS  OF 
Germany,  Austria,  Servia,  Roumania, 
Montenegro,  Turkey,  Albania,  England, 
Belgium,  Holland,  France. 

A  large  special  map  of  Eastern  .Asia, 
showing  China,  Japan  and  the  Philippines. 
This  is  a  new  map  and  is  important  at 
this  time. 

Text — It  contains 
Portraits  of  Royal  Families  ;  history  and 

relationship. 
Grandchildren  of  Queen  Victoria. 
What  Europe  pays  its  Kings  each  year. 
Views    of    Liege,    Dinant,    Namur,    the 
Meuse  Valley  and  Alsace  borderland  ; 
Also  of  the  battlefield  at  Waterloo. 
Short  history  of  each  nation  at  war. 
List   of   World's   Greatest    Battles   with 

dates,  contestants,  losses,  etc. 
Tables  of  what  ten  great  wars  have  cost 

humanity. 
"Who  is  Who"  in   this  great   War,""with 
Portraits  of  all  the  Noted  Leaders. 
Picturesof  soldiers  of  each  nation,  showing 

dress,  guns,  equipment,  etc. 
Shows  different  types  of  war  vessels,  with 

description  of  each. 
A  photograph  of  each  typeof  war  balloon, 

aeroplane  or  dirigible,  also  shows  motor 

cannon  for  fighting  airshios. 
A  list  of  fortified  towns  in  ICuropc. 
A  Complete  I-ist  of  alt  Cities  *and  Towns  in  War 

Zone,  with  Pronunciation  and  Population  Index. 

A  PRESENT  TO  YOD 

We  have  mAde  arranRementii  with  the  map  puhlishrrs 
to  accept  the  first  edition  of  this  New  War  Atlas  ao 
that  we  can  offer  it  to  our  readers  FKKK  with  a  one 
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will  be  sent  post  paid  by  return  of  mail. 

Aildress  CAM*I)A  MONTHLY,  Toronio,  Ont. 


faces  and  hanfls,  but  the  scream  of  the 
g'ant  gas  whistle  slashed  through  their 
headswiththeagony  of  countless  knives. 
Orders  were  given  by  seizing  a  man 
and  pointing.  The  crew  worked  like 
mad,  .sweating  with  the  torment  of  the 
din.  Everything  was  bungled  in  the 
haste  and  had  to  be  done  twice;  but,  in 
time,  with  ropes  and  tackle,  a  nipple 
and  an  open  gate-valve,  and  a  joint  of 
pipe  made  up  tight  into  one  piece,  were 
swung  from  the  torn  and  shattered 
derrick.  Failure  followed  faihire  be- 
fore it  was  firmly  screwed  into  the  well 
casing.  Then  pipe  was  taken  at  ran- 
dom w'''">"i  f'l'ird  to  ownership,  and 


456 


CANADA   MONTHLY 


Crown  Brand  Corn  Syrup 


Wi«e  pMTcnU  ar*  Mrong  friend*  of  Crown  Brand  Syrup  becauac  it 
encourages  children  to  cat  plain  foods  that  are  best  tar  them.  A 
delidous  layer  of  Crown  Brand  Syrup  spread  on  the  top  makes  bre>  J 
■  treat  to  children.  It  is  pure  food  that  costs  very  little.  1  Use 
Crown  Brand  SyrUp  to  awectcn  and  Rovor  Cakes,  Puddings  and  Paltry. 
It  wlU  make  ever  ao  many  delicious  kinds  of  candy. 

Send  for  our  Free  Redpe  Book   that  tells  of   ao 
"*  many  dunty  dishes  that  can  be  made  froni  Crowa 
Bcftnd  Syrup.     Address  Montreal  Office. 


C^ 


The  Canada  Starch   Co.  Limited 

Manufacturers  of  The  EdwanUburg  Brand*  2 

KK^hllEAL       CARDINAI^       TORWTTO       8RANTFORD       VANCOUVER 


M  <•!  Cronn  Brand  Sjirvt*. 

H  of  CranuUud  Su^v. 

H  of  ftidi  Cnam. 

.xiTBullcr. 

Onc-hAtf  pound  at  Chonad  Nuts. 
.  T- _^..  vaAIIs  Ennct. 


Put  lyrvp,  tufv.  bmur.  mm]  on.  mp 
o(  Uw  aeuq  uva  the  A>c.  Sur  iii] 
hoU  vitmaotir  ■  <"  minutn.  Nnw 
ftUr  in  klovly  the  other  cup  o4  crram 
th«l  tmliDf  Buy  conlinue  lil  the  ohilr 
Continue   CDDkinc   anlil    ■    lum    lull 

VuuUa  ■nd  null.  Tuni  lalo  tmicull 
botuced  txcsd  [■■>■- 

Whro  it  bccoocs  sloeW  enld.  turn 


FOR  COAL WOOD 
AND  GAS  STOVES 

No  Dust  No  Rust 


•™e  F.  F.  DALLEY  C*  limited 

HAMIUTON.    ONT.       BU  PFAkO,  N.Y. 


made  into  a  line  a  few  hundred  feet 
long,  at  the  end  of  which  the  gas  was 
set  on  fire.  The  titanic  shriek  stopped 
as  if  Niagara  were  suddenly  turned  to 
stone.  There  was  only  the  dull  roar 
of  a  great  fiame  twisting  and  winding 
in  unearthly  beauty. 

"There's  oil  in  that  gas  strata;  notice 
them  red  streaks  in  that  blue  flame  ?" 
said  Tom. 

"We've  got  to  kill  that  gas  first," 
said  Seth.  "I  wish  we  had  Decker' j 
hydraulic  pump,  'Old  Betsy.'  Garragan 
has  the  mules  and  wagon  and  he  is  in 
Houston  to-day  celebrating  Christmas, 
'  but  his  stable  niggers  will  die  for  me. 
We  ought  to  have  nine  sticks  of  60  per 
cent,  dynamite  down  in  that  hole 
before  night." 

The  other  men  took  off  their  clay 
masks,  pulled  the  waste  from  their 
aching  ears,  ate  ravenously,  drank  like 
men  half-dead  of  thirst,  then  set  to 
work  making  the  necessary  foundation 
and  steam  connections  for  "Decker's 
Old  Betsy." 

Before  these  were  ready,  the  sun  was 
down,  but  by  the  light  of  the  huge  gas 
flare,  six  jack-rabbit  mules  came  drag- 
ging a  wide-wheeled  wagon.  In  the 
middle,  heavily  chained  to  the  bed, 
was  "Old  Betsy."  With  rollers,  skids 
and  crow-bars  she  was  coaxed  into 
place  on  the  hastily  made  foundation. 
The  wheel  of  the  gate-valve  was  screw- 
ed tight  and  the  light  from  the  great 
torch  went  out.  There  was  only  a 
little  glimmer  from  a  new  moon.  When 
"Betsy"  was  ready,  steam  was  turned 
on,  and  then  the  battle  began. 

"Fourteen  inches  of  steam  behind  a 
five-inch  piston,  it  ought  to  go  against 
that  gas,"  said  Tom.  "She'll  do  six 
hundred  pounds.     I've  seen  her." 

But  if  "Betsy's"  credit  was  good  for 
six  hundred  she  failed  to  show  it.  She 
filled  her  suction  pipe,  made  half  a 
dozen  quick  strokes,  then  stood  quiver- 
ing with  effort,  steam  jetting  from  the 
safety  valve. 

"Look  out,"  said  Tom.  "There's 
gas  coming  up  on  the  outside  of  the 
casing;  there'll  be  hell  popping  heah 
in  a  minute." 

The  men  scattered;  the  derrick 
foundation  trembled.  There  was  a 
gurgle  and  splash  below  the  derrick 
floor. 

"Well,  I  be — look  at  them  durned 
craw  fish  comin'  out  of  their  holes," 
cried  Tom. 

There  was  something  uncanny  in 
their  scuttering  flight  from  the  holes 
where  water  and  gas  were  bubbling. 
The  gas  had  cut  its  way  up  outside  the 
pipe  and  threatened  to  open  the  crater 
of  a  small  Vesuvius. 

But  Seth  would  not  budge  at  such  a 
crisis.  He  remained  alone  in  the 
trembling  derrick. 

"Hang  a  pair  of  chain  tongs  on  that 
safety  valve  !"  he  shouted.     Then  he 


Style  70 — Colonial 


Twelve  Hundred 

Sherlock-  Manning 

20lh  Century 

Instruments 

went  into  Canadian  homes  last  year — each 
one  representing  a  saving  of  fully  $100  to 
the  purchaser  —  amounting  in  all  to 
$120,000  saved. 

Many  of  our  sales  to-day  are  made 
through  the  recommendation  of  people 
who  bought  from  us  years  ago — -which 
goes  to  prove  that  time  but  serves  to 
cause  a  SberUck-Mannini  owner  to  think 
more  of  his  purchase. 

In  some  details  of  its  construction,  the 
Sharlock-Mannia^  Piano  has  qualities 
found  in  no  other  piano  made.  We  use  a 
brass  action  flange  which  works  in  con- 
junction with  every  hammer  on  the  piano, 
and  it  will  therefore  be  readily  appreciated 
how  much  superior  our  brass  action  flange 
is  to  the  ordinary  wooden  flange — being 
less  affected'  by  weather  conditions  and 
sudden  changes  of  temperature. 

A  ten-year  guarantee  goes  with  every 
piano  sold.  VVrite  Dept.  11  for  full  in- 
formation and  handsome  art  catalogue  D. 

The  Sherlock-Manning 
Piano  Co. 


London,  Canada 

fNo  Street  Address  Necessary) 


52 


When  in  the  West 

Drink  Western  Canada's 
Favorite  Beer 

Redwood 
Lager 

SOLD  BY  ALL  DEALERS 

E.  L.  Drewry 

Redwood 
Factories 

Winnipeg 


CANADA  MONTHLY 

opened  the  steam  valve  wide  and  step- 
ped outside  the  derrick.  The  faithful 
"Old  Betsy"  slowly  picked  up  her 
natural  gait  and  doggedly  forced  the 
gas  back  down  the  pipe  under  the 
pressure  of  steam  and  muddy  water, 
until  Seth  had  his  wild  well  under  con- 
trol. A  column  of  thick  mud  a  thou- 
sand feet  high  weighed  too  much  even 
for  that  stream  of  gas.  The  well  was 
dead  for  the  time  being.  But  the  oil 
was  still  unfound — if  oil  there  were. 
And  now  Seth's  one  word  was: 

"Dynamite  !" 

Meanwhile  some  of  the  men  had  got 
the  wire,  others  the  dynamite,  another 
the  plunger  magneto. 

A  long,  heavy  piece  of  cast  iron  was 
attached  below  the  dynamite  as  a 
sinker.  Then  the  condensed  annihila- 
tion was  lowered  carefully  into  the 
well,  with  the  tenderness  that  would 
be  shown  a  sick  baby. 

Seth  would  never  let  his  men  take  a 
risk  that  he  could  take  himself. 

"Here  goes  my  best  hope  in  this  oil 
field.  It  makes  me  or  breaks  me,"  he 
said  as  he  attached  the  two  black  and 
greasy  wires  to  the  magneto. 

And  then  he  took  the  lever  with  both 
hands,  and  gave  it  a  quick  plunge 

Far  down  below  there  was  a  muffled 
thud,  there  was  a  quiver  of  the  ground, 
an  anxious  silence  that  imperceptibly 
crescendoed  into  a  mutter,  a  gurgle,  a 
growl,  a  roar,  a  god-like  whoop — and  a 
vast  tower  of  black  oil  was  shooting 
aloft  and  splashing  back  with  a  sound 
that  was  angelic  symphony  to  the  oil 
men's  very  souls. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  he 
appeared  again  at  the  boarding-house, 
which  a  rising  wind  had  swept  clear 
of  the  fumes.  He  washed  up,  as  well 
as  he  could,  in  the  moonlight  at  the 
tin  basin  on  the  soap  box  outside,  but 
he  was  still  somewhat  the  worse  for 
fatigue  and  his  anointment  was  over- 
done. But  Alice  gathered  him  close 
and  kissed  him  more  than  once. 

Seth  was  so  excited  that  he  began  at 
once  to  gabble  business: 

"We  estimate  the  well  at  15,000 
barrels  a  day.  Old  Hazelton  came 
round  an  hour  ago  and  oflfered  me 
$25,000  cash  as  she  flows.  But  I  told 
him  that  with  oil  at  the  present  price, 
I'd  dean  up  that  much  in  a  few  days, 
so  I  declined.  You  see,  15,000  barrels 
of  oil  at  38  cents  a  barrel  makes" 


457 


"You  can 
honey,  '  siiid 
with  a  kiss, 
that    this 


IS 


tell  me  that  tomorra, 
Alice,  stopping  his  lips 
"We-all  mustn't  forget 
Christmas — and  there's 
only  a  few  minutes  left  of  it." 

"Ciood  Lord,  so  it  is  !  Well,  well, 
well  !  We  didn't  have  a  white  Christ- 
mas and  I  didn't  hear  a  sleigh-bell ;  but 
still,  it  sure  was  busy  some,  and  with 
gCKxl  black  oil  at  38  cents  a  barrel  and 
snow  at  nothing  a  ton — I  oughtn't  to 
complain." 


PREMATURE 
BALDNESS 


///  /  Prevented  by 

CUTICURA 
SOAP 

Shampoos  followed  by  occa- 
sional dressings  of  Cuticura 
Ointment.  These  super - 
creamy  emollients  do  much 
for  dry,  thin  and  falling  hair, 
dandruff  and  itching  scalps, 
and  do  it  speedily,  agreeably 
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Samples  Free  by  Mail 

CuUcura  .Soap  and  Ointment  sold  throuKtiuut  the 
world.  Liberal  sample  of  each  mailed  free,  with  32-p. 
book.    Addreas  "Cuticura,"  Depl,  133.  Boatou. 


Beware 

of 

Imitationc 

Sold 

on  the 

Merits 

of 

Minard's 
Liniment 


458 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Of  Driiggists,  30  0.  per  box  or  postage  paid 
for  35  c.  direct  from 

LYMAN'S,     LTD., 

474,      S«.       Paul      S«x>ee<i, 

ivi  o  i«  rr  Ft  e:  ji.  K. . 


Children 
Teething 

Motfaan  thottid  (ive  only  tiie  well-known 


Doctor  Stedman's 
teething  powders 


MARK 


The  many  millions  that  are  annually  oaed 
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Small  Packets,  9  Powders 
Large  Packets,  30  Powders 

0FALL0HEMI8T8  AND  01108  STOQES- 
MANUFAOTORV:  125  NEW  NORTH  ROAD.  LONDON,  ENtLAND. 


The  Autographic  Kodak 

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TOUCH  a  spring  and  a  door'opens  in  the  back 
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Autographic  Film  Cartridge;  close  door.  Upon 
development  a  permanent  photographic  reproduc- 
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tions between  the  negatives.  You  can  have  this, 
writing  appear  on  the  prints^or  not,  just  as  you 
choose. 

The  places  of  interestlfyou  visit,  interesting 
facts  about  the  children,  their  age  at  the  time 
the  picture  was  made,  the  light  conditions,  stop 
and  exposure  for  every  negative,  the  date — all 
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At  all  Kodak  Dealers.  TORONTO 


"Aren't  you  glad  I  robbed  the 
bank  ?"  said  Alice,  shamelessly  trium- 
phant. 

"Yes,  I  thought  of  that,"  said  Seth, 
sheepishly.  "I'm  kind  of  ashamed  and 
kind  of  proud.  I  guess  it  will  be  square 
if  we  refund  what  we  borrowed  with 
100  per  cent,  for  the  loan.  A  news- 
paper reporter  asked  me  what  the 
name  of  this  well  would  be,  and  I  told 
him  'The  Little  Tin  Bank.'  He  said, 
"Why  ?'  and  I  said,  'Because.'  " 

"And  that's  reason  enough,"  said 
Alice.  "But  we  owe  it  all  to  the  baby." 
Then  Seth,  Sr.,  and  Mrs.  Seth  Sr.,  knelt 
down  by  the  bed  and  seized  Seth,  Jr. 
They  kissed  him  and  nuzzled  him  so 
that  he  lost  count  of  his  toes  and  had  to 
begin  all  over  again. 


The  Jade  Earring 

Continued  from  page  404. 

about  the  irreconcilable  contradiction 
that  had  been  confronting  him  for 
months — the  thing  that  must  be  true, 
yet  couldn't  be  true. 

After  all,  what  gave  me  the  privilege 
of  being  called  his  friend,  was  my 
ability  to  understand  and  make  allow- 
ances. Somehow  or  other,  he  had 
had  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  himself 
that  morning.  Perhaps  in  some  queer 
way  I  couldn't  guess  at,  the  discovery 
of  his  loss  had  brought  up  the  old  con- 
tradiction to  stare  him  in  the  face — 
had  given  him  a  moment  of  almost 
superstitious  panic,  which,  now  that  a 
rational  explanation  had  suggested  it- 
self as  an  alternative,  he  didn't  feel 
like  acknowledging  the  existence  of, 
even  to  me. 

I  went  over  to  him  and  laid  a  hand 
on  his  shoulder. 

"All  right,"  I  said;  "let's  find  it; 
I'm  sure  I  haven't  anything  better  to 
do,  and  if  there  turns  out  to  be  any 
thing  else  you  want  to  tell  me  about 
later,  why  you  can  tell  it  and  be  sure 
that  I  shall  try  to  understand.  Come  ! 
Let's  get  down  to  business.  What  is 
your  clue  ?" 

"It's  almost  childishly  simple,"  said 
Jeffrey.  "I'm  ashamed  of  myself  that 
I  didn't  think  of  it  the  moment  I  dis- 
covered the  loss,  instead  of  blowing 
up  that  way.  Why,  you'll  think  of  it 
yourself  in  a  minute.  And  here's  your 
chance  !"  he"  added,  as  a  knock  at  the 
door  interrupted  us. 

His  Jap  was  out  somewhere,  so  Jef- 
frey answered  it  himself. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Petersen  ?" 
he  said,  and  ushered  the  stranger  in. 

Petersen  was  a  clumsy  looking  man 
of  the  skilled-mechanic  type;  warmly 
and  comfortably  and  properly  dressed 
enough,  but  his  clothes  looking  as  if 
he  were  in  the  habit  of  getting  down 
on  his  hands  and  knees  and  carrying 
heavy  objects  around  in  his  pockets. 


COFFEE 

Knows  No 
Substitute  And 

SEAL 
BRANB 

COFFEE 

Knows  No 
Superior 


CHASE  &  SANBORN 

MONTREAL. 


"Mr.  Petersen,"  said  Jeffrey,  "is  the 
decorator  who  did  over  the  building 
last  fall."  Then  he  astonished  me  by 
turning  to  Petersen  and  saying:  "I'm 
thinking  of  having  a  little  more  work 
done.  Oh,  this  is  perfectly  satisfactory 
and  I  wouldn't  think  of  calling  in  the 
landlord.  It's  on  my  own  account 
entirely.  Don't  you  think  yourself. 
Drew" — he  turned  to  me — "that  the 
walls  would  compMDse  into  better  look- 
ing panels  if  we  had  a  second  frieze 
carried  around  there  about  a  third  of 
the  way  down  ?" 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


459 


"I  don't  know  anything  about  art 
and  composition,"  said  I.  "You  cer- 
tainly know  that.  You  will  have  to 
decide  that  for  yourself." 

It  was  too  ridiculous.  Here  was 
Jeffrey  who  had  run  away  for  a  three 
months'  vacation  because  the  decora- 
tors got  on  his  nerves,  deliberately  in- 
voking them  again  when  he  got  back. 
Naturally  enough,  Petersen  favored 
the  project. 

"That's  very  well  done,"  said  Jef- 
frey to  me — "the  upp^r  frieze.  It's 
very  skilled  work,  you  know.  Has.  to 
be  done  by  hand." 

Then  he  turned  back  to  Petersen. 
"I'd  want  the  same  man  to  do  it  that 
did  the  other." 

Petersen  shook  his  head.  "I  can't 
accommodate  you  there,  I'm  afraid, 
sir.  I  had  to  turn  that  fellow  off. 
Oh,  he  was  a  good  workman,  but  rules 
are  rules." 

"He  came  on  the  job  drunk,  I  sup- 
pose ?"  said  Jeffrey.  ■  j      .  i 

"No,"  said  Petersen,  "he  was  steady 
enough.  Why,  I  don't  mind  telling 
you;  though  it  seems  rather  hard. 
I  turned  him  off  because  his  wages 
were  garnisheed  by  a  loan-office.  You 
can't  get  skilled  work  out  of  men  with 
that  on  their  minds."  >:i 

"I  see,"  said  Jeffrey.  "But  you 
think  you  could  find  me  someone  else 
just  as  good  ?"        -T.  ;=i  >  i6'' 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Petersen.  "No  trou- 
ble about  that." 

"Well,"  said  Jeffrey,  "I'll  let  you 
know.  I  will  call  you  up  in  the  morn- 
ing when  I've  made  up  my  mind. 
Thank  you  very  much  for  coming." 

Petersen  had  opened  the  door  and 
was  in  the  act  of  starting  out,  Jeffrey 
watching  him  absent-mindedly,  a  frown 
on  his  face. 

"Poor  devil,"  he  said,  under  his 
breath.  Then,  suddenly  struck  with 
an  idea,  he  called  out:  "Oh,  Petersen, 
give  me  that  chap's  address,  will  you 
— the  one  you  discharged  ?  I'm  sup- 
posed to  belong  to  some  sort  of  pro- 
tective league  for  that  loan-shark 
business.  Maybe  we  could  do  some- 
thing to  help  him  out." 

Petersen  hesitated  a  minute,  then 
took  a  shabby  note-book  out  of  his 
pocket  and  read  out  the  name  and  ad- 
dress of  the  man  he  had  discharged. 

Jeffrey  wrote  it  in  charcoal  on  the 
back  of  a  stretcher. 

"All  right,"  he  said.  "You'll  hear 
from  me  in  the  morning." 

Jeffrey  shut  the  door  and  the  next 
minute  he  was  struggling  into  his  coat. 

"Come  along,"  said  he. 

"Where  ?"  I  asked. 

He  looked  at  me  queerly.  "Why, 
to  look  up  the  case  of  this  loan-shark 
victim,  of  course.  No  time  like  the 
present.     Come  along." 

In  another  three  minutes  we  were 
in  a  taxi. 


A  skiiY 

you  love  tatoucK 


Why  it  is  so  rare 

A  skin  you  love  to  touch  is  rarely  found 
because  so  few  people  understand  the  skin 
and  its  needs. 

Begin  now  to  take  your  skin  seriously. 

You  can  make  it  what  you  would  love  to 
have  it  by  using  the  following  treatment 
regularly. 

Make  this  treatment  a  daily  habit 

Jast  before  retiring,  work  up  a  warm  water 
lather  of  Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  and  rub  it 
into  the  skin  gently  until  the  skin  is  softened, 
the  porea  opened  and  the  face  feels  fresh  and 


clean.  Rinse  in  cooler  water,  then  apply  cold 
water—the  colder  the  better — for  a  full  min- 
ute. Whenever  possible,  rub  your  face  for  a 
few  minutes  with  a  piece  of  ice.  Always  dry 
the  skin  thoroughly. 

Use  this  treatment  persistently  for  ten  days 
or  two  weeks  and  your  skin  will  show  a  marked 
improvement.  Use  Woodbury's  regularly 
thereafter,  and  before  long  your  skin  will  take 
on  that  finer  texture,  that  greater  freshness 
and  clearness  of  "a  skin  you  love  to  touch." 

Woodbury's  Facial  Soap  is  the  work  of  a 
skin  specialist.  It  cost  2.'>c  a  cake.  No  one 
hesitates  at  the  price  after  their  first  cake. 
Tear  out  the  illustration  of  the  cake  below 
and  put  it  in  your  purse  as  a  reminder  to  get 
Woodbury's  today. 


Woodbury's  Facial  Soap 


For  sale  by  Canadia  n  drutgisls  from  coast  lo  coast, 
including  Newfoundland . 

Write    today    to    the    Canadian 
Woodbifry  Factory  for  samples 

For  4c  ivt  ivitl  send  a  sample  cake.  For  10c, 
samples  of  Woodbury's  Facial  Soap,  Facial 
Cream  and  Poiuder.  For  50c,  copy  of  the 
Woodbury  Book  and  samples  of  the  Woodbury 
Preparations . 

Addres'  The  Andrew  Jergena  Co.,  Ltd., 
Dept.in-u  t'erth,  Ontario. 


The  address  was  way  up  town  on 
the  East  Side  and  our  taxi  stopped  at 
last  in  front  of  a  dingy  brick  house, 
one  of  a  long  row,  on  a  shabby  cross- 
town  street.  Just  as  we  were  going 
to  ring  the  bell  the  door  opened  and  a 
man  started  out.  He  eyed  us  with  a 
quick  little  glance  of  morose,  surly 
suspicion.  A  roughly-dres.sed  man, 
wearing  boots  stained  with  lime  or 
kalsomine,  and  a  workman's  clothes. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Shean,"  said  Jeffrey, 
"glad  we  didn't  miss  you!  Come  back 
a  miiuite,  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 


If  we  had  asked  him  if  his  name  was 
Shean,  I  think  he'd  have  denied  it  and 
gone  on.  But  there  was  a  mixture  of 
authority  and  confidence  behind  Jef- 
frey's good-natured  smile  that  was  al- 
most irresistible.  The  man  hesitated, 
and  having  done  that  much,  .seemed  to 
find  it  impo-ssible  to  do  anything  but 
obey  Jeffrey's  gesture  and  follow  us 
into  the  badly  lighted,  ill-smelling  hall. 
Here  Jeffrey  stepped  back  and  nodded 
to  him  to  lead  the  way. 

"What  do  you  want  ?"  Shean  de- 
manded. 


460 


CANADA  MONTHLY 


Once  upon  a  time 


there  was  an  alarm  clock 
who  wanted  to  get  up  in 
this  world. 

So  he  had  himself  fitted 
with  a  regular  watch  escape- 
ment, a  light-running  mo- 
tor, selective  alarm  calls, 
and  large  easy-winding  keys. 

Then,  so  they  could  see  him  in 
the  dim  morning  light,  he  ordered 
himself  a  great  big  white  dial  and 
large,  black,  clean-cut  hands. 


When  he  was  dead  sure  he  could 
make  a  clean  sweep,  he  hung  out 
his  shingle  and  bid  for  business. 

Today  there  are  three  and  a  half 
million  names  on  his  calling  list — 
he' s  got  the  biggest  practice  in  the 
alarm  clock  business. 

His  name  is  Big  Ben,  and  his  imprint 
"Made  in  La  Salle,  Illinois,  by  U'estdox,^'' 
is  the  best  oversleep  insurance  that  any- 
one can  buy. 

Fact  is.  br  is  really  two  alarm  clocks  in  one — an  in- 
termittent alarm  rincing  every  other  half  minute  for  ten 
minutes,  a  long  alarm  ringing  live  minutes  straight  with- 
out internrption  unless  you  shut  him  off.  Price  £2.50 
anywhere  in  the  Stntes^  SJ.OO  anywhere  in  Canada. 


For  Social    Play| 

Always  something  new.    See 
Mona  Lisa,  Rembrandt    and 
other  recent  art  backs  of  un- 
usual beauty. 
Air-Cushion  Finish     Club  Indexes 


CONCf 

PIAYINO I 


CARD  GAMES  \^ 

Hoyle  up-to-date  jvr i 

'.SEND  IJiJ  IN   STAMPS      " 


606 
COLO  CDCES 

litUSPUMKCwDCa 


For  General  Play 

The  sun  never  sets  on  Bicycle 
Cards.    Used  the  world  over 
because  of  their  quality. 
Ivory    or    Air-Cushion    Finish 


ItHEU.  S.  PLAYING    CARD    CD..  CIN  CI  N  INATI.  U.  B.  AJ 


A  chance  to  talk  to  you  for  a 
moment  without  interruption,"  said 
Jeffrey  pleasantly. 

The  man  grunted  and  led  the  way 
to  a  small  room  at  the  back  of  the 
house. 

Jeffrey,  the  last  one  into  it,  closed 
the  door  after  him  and  nodded  toward 
a  chair. 

"Sit  down  a  minute,  please,"  he 
said.  He  waited  till  Shean  had  obeyed 
him  and  I,  rather  cautiously,  had  fol- 
lowed suit.  I  didn't  like  the  man's 
looks  altogether. 

Jeffrey  leaned  back"^  comfortably 
against  the  top  of  a  trunk. 

"We  work  at  the  same  trade,"  he 
said,  politely.  "I'm  a  painter  myself. 
My  name's  Arthur  Jeffrey  and  I've 
got  a  studio  up  on  Central  Park  West." 

The  man  started  out  of  his  chair 
and  then  let  himself  drop  back  into  it. 

"Well,"  he  said  savagely,  "what  do 
you  want  ?" 

"Oh,  it's  nothing  to  get  excited 
about,"  said  Jeffrey.  "I  suppose  you 
got  twenty-five  or  thirty  dollars  for 
the  frame.  You  probably  needed  that 
more  than  I  do.  But  I  need  the  picture 
that  was  in  it  more  than  you  do.  So 
I  want  you  to  give  it  back  to  me." 

Shean  was  on  his  feet  by  now  and 
the  blustering,  furtive  terror  in  his  face 
and  in  his  voice  when  he  spoke  were 
confession  enough  to  me  that  my 
friend's  shot  had  rung  the  bell. 

"You're  a  liar,"  said  Shean — "a 
damned  liar.  You  don't  know  what 
you're  talking  about." 

"I'm  talking,"  said  Jeffrey,  "about 
a  picture  of  a  girl  in  a  white  satin 
gown.  It  was  in  my  studio  in  a 
French,  hand-carved  frame.  You 
were  at  work  painting  that  frieze  in  my 
studio.  You  knew  what  that  frame 
was  worth  and  where  you  could  sell  it. 
You  knew  I  was  off  on  a  three  months' 
vacation  and  you  absolutely  had  to 
have  the  money.  Lord,  man,  I  know 
what  that  means  myself  !  I  never  took 
that  means  of  getting  it,  but  I  can 
understand  how  a  man  would.  But 
you  couldn't  sell  the  picture.  That's 
preposterous  !  And  I  want  you  to 
give  it  back  to  me." 

Shean  was  staring  at  him  fascinated. 
Slowly  he  sat  down  again.  There  was 
a  long  silence.  Finally  he  spoke 
through  his  locked  teeth. 

"I  didn't  take  any  picture.  I  swear 
to  God  I  didn't  take  any  picture.  The 
frame  was  empty  when  I  saw  it  there. 
I  did  take  the  frame  and  I  sold  it. 
I  got  eighteen  dollars  for  it  and  I  knew 
it  was  worth  a  hundred  and  twenty. 
Eighteen  dollars  to  give  to  those  dam- 
ned leeches  that  are  sucking  all  the 
blood  out  of  me.  You  can  prosecute, 
and  be  damned.  I  wish  you  would. 
But  I  didn't  take  any  picture." 

To  be  continued. 


titltStSttUti