Notes and Quertes 
To Canada for Trout. 
It was the 15th of May, 189-, that a party of 
about a dozen sportsmen left M for Canada, 
intending to spend ten days ‘‘ where the trout 
hide.” AtSpringfield, Mass.,we took a sleeper, 
and soon were running along through the pic- 
turesque regions that border the Connecticut 
river. The rythmic rattle and clang of the 
train soon lulled us to sleep, and the morning 
came bright and clear when we entered the 
Queen’s Dominion. The foliage, in a night, 
seemed to have dropped back a week, for our 
course was to the north; the early varying 
shades of the young leaves shimmered in the 
morning light as we sped along by streams, 
lakes and woodland. 
At 8 o'clock we stopped at Sherbrooke and 
had a very good breakfast, then on again for 
Quebec. Our train was late, arriving at Point 
Levi, opposite Quebec, about 2 p. M. There 
was the usual bustle getting our ‘‘duffle” 
aboard the ferry boat, but soon the quaint old 
city of Quebec loomed up in rocky grandeur 
across the waters of the St. Lawrence river, 
and soon we were across and making terms 
for carriages to the ‘‘ Frontenac,” and then up 
the steep hill where one feels irresistibly 1n- 
clined to lean forward, and to sit ight for fear 
that the horse will not be able to pull you to 
the top. 
I can imagine no grander or finer location for 
a hotel than on Dufferin terrace, where, at the 
expense of more than a million a dollars, the 
managers of the Canadian Pacific road have 
erected ‘‘The Frontenac.” After a very well 
served dinner, our committee on supplies made 
a tour of the markets for provisions to use at 
the club house, and a very thorough job they 
made of it, so that in the aftertime the table 
fairly groaned with good things well cooked. 
The next step was to the railroad officials of 
the Quebec and Lake St. John Railway, who 
were very generous in the matter of a parlor 
car—it being very early in the year they had 
not put one on for the season, 
We remained in Quebec for the night and 
took the 9 A. M. train next day for ‘‘K. K.” 
lake. Wehad a good lunch with us, and a 
car to ourselves and a half dozen general 
sportsmen, who joined us at the train in 
Quebec. Our way as far as St. Raymond was 
through a typical primitive French farming 
country with many inviting trout streams, and 
some of them visited by salmon, it was said. 

eres 
About 2p. M. we reached Lake Edward, and 
the train stopped half an half hour for linner; 
as we had lunched, we visited the lake and 
learned that the fishing was good, and trout 
from 1 to 4 th weight were plenty; ‘‘important 
if true,” and it was true. We were more anx- 
ious than ever to strike our “‘camp,”’ which we 
did about 5 o'clock. 
We were, of course, all anxious to have a 
try at the trout that night, and there was a 
lively stringing up of rods and selection of 
flies, and then a wild rush for the stream that 
runs near the club house and across the rail- 
road track. I believe none were disappointed 
in the catch that evening; I for one was satis- 
fied. More than a dozen trout, ranging in 
weight from 1 to 2 tbs apiece, were taken out 
of the stream before supper, which was a good 
beginning. The rooms, bed and board were 
first class, but with the morrow came a cold 
rain, but it would have taken a hot rain to 
have kept me in. After a late and leisurely 
breakfast four of our party decided to go in the 
club's steamer to the head of the lake, about 
ten miles, and try the fishing at the inlet, 
‘There was another party of three and their 
guides going into camp at the inlet, so they 
were taken aboard the steamer. The guides, 
with their birches, formed a long and pictur- 
esque tow. We left the wharf about 9 o'clock, 
and steamed up the lake with our heavy load, 
but the little steamer did nobly, not making, 
however, any great speed, but it was better 
so. We had left, we hoped, all hurry and 
bustle behind, and did not want to rush to get 
ahead of ‘‘ that other fellow.” We were way 
up in the northern wilderness, where, to be 
sure, the railroad track was near by, but they 
run only one trainaday. The little steamer 
was another anomaly, and our tow was wild 
enough as we looked back on the swarthy 
French and Indian guides, keeping trim their 
canoes with a dip of the paddle, and joining 
their voices in a wild woods chant; so that after 
all it was a strange and weird scene as we 
skirted along the picturesque shores of the 
lake towards the inlet. 
We reached the inlet about rr o'clock and 
came to anchor; the small boats cut loose and 
in a few minutes ‘‘we four,” with our two. 
boats and our two guides, were making our 
way up the swift water of the inlet stream to 
the pool; a paddle of twenty rods and the 
latter was reached, and then separating, with 
our guide holding the boat in the quick water 
