QUEBEC. 75 



CHAPTER III. 



QUEBEC. 



THE farther one travels west in the continent of North 

 America, the more American do the cities become, and 

 less like the old-country type. St. John, Newfound- 

 land, in the extreme east, might well pass for an Irish 

 town. The streets are dirty and irregular, the side walks 

 neglected. The policeman and the not less inevitable 

 beggar may be observed prowling about in pursuit of 

 their respective avocations ; even the stray pig may be 

 occasionally met with, and a touch of the brogue may be 

 heard. Quebec is a French city. What a pity it was, 

 by the way, that the old Indian name of Stadacona was 

 not preserved ! From the flagstaff of the citadel, a spot 

 to which every newly arrived immigrant or tourist 

 naturally turns his steps, a magnificent panorama presents 

 itself to his eyes. The old city nestles close under the 

 guns of the citadel as if for protection. A dozen steamers 

 lie at the wharf close under the ramparts, and the sight- 

 seer can look down upon the decks of forty or fifty large 

 sailing ships lying at anchor in the stream. Opposite is 

 Point Levi, with its acres and acres of floating lumber 

 and its high lands, which in the old wars were out of the 

 range of the guns of the citadel, but which in these days 

 of improved ordnance would command them. But up the 

 river and down the river, what glorious views ! What an 



