THE HALCYON IN CANADA. 215 



the railroad takes you, the country is flat and mono- 

 tonous. 



The first peculiarity one notices about the farms in 

 this northern country is the close proximity of the 

 house and barn, in most cases the two buildings 

 touching at some point, an arrangement doubtless 

 prompted by the deep snows and severe cold of this 

 latitude. The typical Canadian dwelling-house is 

 also presently met with on entering the Dominion, 

 a low, modest structure of hewn spruce logs, with a 

 steep roof (containing two or more dormer windows) 

 that ends in a smart curve, a hint taken from the 

 Chinese pagoda. Even in the more costly brick or 

 stone houses in the towns and vicinity this style is 

 adhered to. It is so universal that one wonders if the 

 reason of it also be not in the climate, the outward 

 curve of the roof shooting the sliding snow farther 

 away from the dwelling. It affords a wide projection, 

 in many cases covering a veranda, and in all cases 

 protecting the doors and windows without interfering 

 with the light. In the better class of clap-boarded 

 houses the finish beneath the projecting eaves is also 

 a sweeping curve, opposing and bracing that of the 

 roof. A two-story country house, or a Mansard roof, 

 I do not remember to have seen in Canada, but in 

 places they have become so enamored of the white 

 of the snow that they even whitewash the roofs of 

 their buildings, giving a cluster of them the impres- 

 sion, at a distance, of an encampment of great tents. 



As we neared Point Levi, opposite Quebec, we got 



