23 



major's hospitable dwelling. On page 45 we find him saying, " It is pleasant to think 

 that we have a comfortable home and a cheerful fire to look forward to." In the long 

 winter evenings he here recorded the observations made in the course of the day. We 

 can fancy that we see him, in the retirement of his chamber, holding the candle at the 

 window, and noticing the white flakes descending in the "darkness visible" (see Can. 

 Nat. page 30), or musing over the " frosted flowers " on the panes (p. 29), or on the 

 sudden formation of ice-needles, in the chilled water on the wash-stand, when agitated by 

 the immersion of his hands (p. 351). 



A few days ago I went to see my friend Quartus Bliss, Esq., of Oompton, with the 

 express purpose of gaining information concerning Gosse. We drove through the village 

 of Compton but could then learn of only two persons who remembered him. One, a lady, 

 was unfortunately from home ; the other, when I mentioned Gosse, said, " Oh, yes ! I 

 remember him. I went to school to him. He couldn't teach school anij, to suit this 

 country." " Is that so V I said, " but why ?" " Why T he retorted. " Well, one day 

 when it was snowing, he took a slate and caught the snow-flakes and made drawings of 

 them." And youthful impressions were so strong in the man, and the act had appeared 

 so ridicuious to him in his youth that, at the remembrance of it, he laughed — and laughed 

 — and " laughed consumedly." And the ludicrousness of this man's laughing at Gosse 

 made me laugh, and my friend Bliss laughed for sympathy. At length, by way of 

 creating a diversion in Gosse's favor, I said, " I think I can show you a copy of the 

 drawing he made that day." And I took the Canadian Naturalist from my pocket and 

 shewed him the cut on page 27. He seemed somewhat taken aback that anything Gosse 

 had done should be reproduced in a book, but he soon returned to the charge : " In his 

 garden at Smith's Mills he planted poison-poke !" (p. 233). I was, of course, duly 

 silenced. The character of a man who could plant poison-poke in his garden was beyond 

 redemption. I mig^ht have told of gardeners setting out plants of the pickled-cabbage 

 order for effect : but where would have been the use? 



I had given Mr. Bliss a list of the places I wished to see. As we were driving 

 through a stretch of lowland he said, " This that we are coming to is Spafford's Bridge 

 (p. 103). Yonder was Robinson's farm (p. 188). On the hill facing us was the Pierre 

 Barker place, (p. 298) : the house is still standing ; the farm was the best in the neigh- 

 bourhood in Gosse's day. To the left, here on the flat, lived Adolphus Barker a brother 

 of Pierre, and a notorious scoundrel. The foundations of his house can still be traced." 

 Having ascended the hill, and passed the old Pierre Barker house, and the fine 

 modern residence of Mr. Vernon to whom the surrounding properties now belong, we came 

 to a turn in the road. " Here " said my friend, " was the Well's place, formerly owned 

 by Mr. Jaques ; and yonder you can trace the old main road to Sberbrooke, which has long 

 been abolished." It was all before me : The road we were on was the " village road" 

 (p. 2), the road that the horseman in the vignette of Gosse's title page is pursuing. Look- 

 ing down from that road, immediately to the right, in the corner unmarked in Gosse's 

 sketch, I saw the shattered foundations (overgrown with moss and lichen,) of the house 

 in which he lived with Mr. and Mrs. Jaques. It had been a frame cottage, 30 by 24 ft. 

 in size, and had stood five rods from the road. The barn, still standing, but much dilapi- 

 dated, is eight rods from the site of the house. The foundations of Gosse's log barn can 

 also be seen. Through " the marshy spot below the barn " (p. 116), from which he heard 

 the " Breke-kekex koax-koax " of the frogs, the Grand Trunk Railway now runs, cutting 

 the farm in halves. The maple-grove (p 227) has been felled, but stumps of the trees 

 remain. No traces of the orchard are left. The whole of the farm is now in pasture. 



The bridge over the Ooaticook at the bottom of the farm, which he speaks of as " our 

 bridge," has quite disappeared. It is remembered in the neighborhood as the '' Wyman 

 Bridge." Its position can be told only from the break in the old road at the river banks. 

 On the rising ground beyond the river, and to the left of the old road, may still be seen 

 the house in which dwelt Mr. Bill, (p. 267). 



Pursuing our ivay we crossed Bradley's Brook (p. 297). To the left between the 

 hills are the remains of the thicket through which Gosse forced a road to the Brule beyond 

 (p. 297). The hill (p. 303) which he ascended, and from which he saw Smith's mills and 



