IN THE NORTH COUNTRY 



It was early one morning of a festival day that 

 the Chihuahuan and I set out for a pilgrimage 

 place distant from our landlady's dwelling about 

 three miles and a half. A friend was waiting to 

 greet me there, and all sorts of pleasant anticipa- 

 tions filled my mind, but for the little doggie the 

 joys of the present were quite sufficient. ' 'Tis 

 luck enough to live," she perhaps said to herself 

 as we pursued our way, which led, first through 

 the pleasant village, where friendly faces met us 

 on all sides, and generous hands held out flowers 

 as we passed, and kindly voices wished us God- 

 speed and a safe return (my expostulations re- 

 garding the bird-trapping practices were all too 

 soon forgotten and forgiven, you see), then out 

 on the highway where the houses are few and 

 far apart, and the view of the great river, along 

 whose bordering meadows our route lay, is almost 

 uninterrupted. On our right was a beautiful 

 bank, and down its fresh, green sides many a 

 little rill courses. Now and then we walked in 

 the shadow of wide-spreading single trees, but 

 one rarely finds continued shade along Canadian 

 roadsides; the ruthless axe of the early settlers 

 having felled even the forest patriarchs that 

 would have shielded and protected the high- 

 ways. 



[233] 



