and then disappear in the distant blue haze. What glorious clouds; and what beautiful effects of light and shade the bright sun paints on the broad out— V i spread canvas of nature that surrounds us! It needs but the sight of Quebec in its grand setting of striking beauty and the simple melodies of the people heard from violins and harp amidships, to transport the mind in a delightful reverie of the past.

In fancy we see the Henrys, the Edwards, Good ‘Queen Bess,’ James, poor Charles, the sturdy Lord Protector, Cromwell, and all the long line of crowned heads whose history is woven in with that of Eastern Canada. And then the French King Francis, the two Henri, and the four Louis, with Champlain, Jacques Cartier and Frontenac; the noble missionaries who came here to teach the savage Indians—murdered, or burnt at the stake for their devotion; the great captains, including England’s Nelson, the brave soldiers down to \Yolfe and Montcalm, and since; the Norman and Basque peasant settlers, the coztreurs du bois, the buccaneers, privateers and adventurers; all these have figured in Quebec's remarkable history.

A bump at the landing (lock recalls us to the present, and as we step ashore it is with reverence akin to that which we feel when standing under the towering Norman greatness of Durham Cathedral, or when in the sacred precincts of \Vestminster Abbey where he buried the genius and achievement of centuries.

And now Quebec is reached, and some of the things that will ever be in mind after this memorable visit are now belore us; and weeks of happy experiences are about to unfold their treasure to our admiring gaze.

There is no better way of understanding and appreciating what the old city holds in store than that: of first rambling about in every direction on foot. \Vith occasional car trips and with a drive now and again in a calecizc, the plan of the city and its environs becomes gradually clear. The sight of the quaint streets and of the many old features that are so novel on the new continent will be enjoyed because seen without guide or premeditation. The process known to our English cousins as ‘knocking about,’ which is to saunter where you will, on foot and without haste, is the best way in Old Quebec. It is on foot that terrestrial things are seen intimately, and when we have made a dozen ‘rounds’ of the lower town, walked along the ramparts again and again, rambled in the

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