14000 MILES 



elapsed, and we were "bonded" at a cost of twenty-five 

 cents, and all right for Canada. We wonder if the papers 

 are good for another trip, for they have not been called 

 for yet. 



We crossed the invisible line that afternoon, and never 

 knew just where the deed was done, but when we were 

 directed to a little one-story house, well guarded by 

 jabbering Frenchmen, as the hotel in St. Armand, we 

 realized we were out of the States. We felt like 

 intruders on a private family, outside, but once inside we 

 became members. All seemed interested in our welfare, 

 and asked about our "papers," advising us to have them 

 looked at, as in case we had any difficulty farther on we 

 would have to return there. 



There was some delay in giving us a room, for it had 

 been cleared ready for the paperhanger, and the bed had 

 to be set up, etc. Our hostess seemed so sorry to put us 

 into such a forlorn place, and the rolls of paper in the 

 closet looked so tempting, we had half a mind to surprise 

 her by saying we would stop over a day and hang it for 

 her. We gave that up, however, but once in our room 

 we had to "stop over" till morning, for two men occupied 

 the room adjoining — our only exit. If the house was 

 small, the funnel-holes were large, and we were lulled to 

 sleep by the murmuring of voices in the room below us. 

 We caught the words "drivin'," "St. John" and "kind o' 

 pleasant," and felt as if we were not forgotten. 



Our interview with the officer was very reassuring. He 

 said no one would molest us unless it was some mean 

 person who might think, "There's a Yankee 'rig' !" That 



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