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Showing: 1-10 results of 31

CHAPTER I. EMBARKATION FOR CANADA. — VOYAGE OUT. — SEA-LIFE. — ICEBERGS. — PASSAGE UP THE ST. LAWRENCE. — QUEBEC. — MEMORIALS OF GENERAL WOLFE. — CATHEDRAL. — HOSPITALITY. — EARTHQUAKES. — NUNS. — MONTREAL. — PROGRESS UP THE COUNTRY. — MY ROMAN CATHOLIC FELLOW-TRAVELLER. — ATTEMPT AT CONVERSION. — THE TOWNSHIP OF WHITBY. A PREFERENCE for an active, rather... more...

CHAPTER I DEPARTURE FOR THE NORTH In 1907 I set out to journey by canoe down the Athabaska and adjoining waters to the sole remaining forest wilds—the far north-west of Canada—and the yet more desert Arctic Plains, where still, it was said, were to be seen the Caribou in their primitive condition. My only companion was Edward A. Preble, of Washington, D. C., a trained naturalist,—an expert canoeist and traveller, and a man of... more...

ONE. Farms and Roads At ten minutes past four, of an evening late in September, I sat in the buggy and swung out of the livery stable that boarded my horse. Peter, the horse, was a chunky bay, not too large, nor too small; and I had stumbled on to him through none of my sagacity. To tell the plain truth, I wanted to get home, I had to have a horse that could stand the trip, no other likely looking horse was offered, this one was—on a trial... more...

PREFACE. Having a large circle of friends who feel interested in my American trip, the propriety of publishing my observations, to avoid going over the same ground again and again, was suggested by one of them—a hint with which I have complied. I can say, with the strictest truth, that I have not revised or altered any impression formed at the moment. Indeed, I never saw these Notes from the time they were written till they passed... more...

Having at different times collected what information I could obtain relating to the Province of New-Brunswick, I intended whenever I had a sufficient fund of correct materials, to publish them in such a shape as to diffuse a general knowledge of the Country, its productions, sources of wealth, &c. For this reason I had kept the different Counties, as well as the several subjects of which I intended to treat, separate, in order to receive such... more...


Dearest M. I sadly fear I must have contributed more paving-stones for a certain region; for many good resolutions did I make in starting, and not one of them has been kept, not even so much as writing daily a portion of a letter to be sent home from New York. And now my long story will have to be cut short, and the doings of the last fifteen days will have to be crowded into a very limited space; for we are in sight of land, and our excitement... more...

HOPEDALE. I will content myself with a few explanations of the accompanying view of the station from the bay. In winter the aspect of the whole landscape would be very much whiter, and the foreground not water, but ice. The bare, rocky ship hill which forms the background still had considerable patches of snow when we arrived early in August, but it melted from day to day during our stay, for the summer sun asserts its power during its brief... more...

PREFACE It was on Friday, August 1, 1919, that "the damned reporters" and the Times correspondent's hatbox went on board the light cruiser Dauntless at Devonport. The Dauntless had just arrived from the Baltic to load up cigarettes—at least, that was the first impression. In the Baltic the rate of exchange had risen from roubles to packets of Players, and a handful of cigarettes would buy things that money could not obtain. Into the midst... more...

INTRODUCTION. The author of the narratives contained in this volume was Peter Esprit Radisson, who emigrated from France to Canada, as he himself tells us, on the 24th day of May, 1651. He was born at St. Malo, and in 1656, at Three Rivers, in Canada, married Elizabeth, the daughter of Madeleine Hainault. [Footnote: Vide History of the Ojibways, by the Rev. E. D. Neill, ed. 1885.] Radisson says that he lived at Three Rivers, where also dwelt "my... more...

CHAPTER I THE MENDICANTS REACH WINNIPEG "We are as mendicants who waitAlong the roadside in the sun.Tatters of yesterday and shredsOf morrow clothe us every one."And some are dotards, who believeAnd glory in the days of old;While some are dreamers, harping stillUpon an unknown age of gold."O foolish ones, put by your care!Where wants are many, joys are few;And at the wilding springs of peace,God keeps an open house for you."But there be others,... more...