THE LAURENTIDES PARK 



hills over what the reader might some- 

 times hesitate to call a road. A friend 

 of eighty, still of sound mind and mem- 

 ory, was a grown man when his great- 

 grandfather died at the age of one 

 hundred and five, and this ancestor came 

 as a child to La Nouvelle France. It 

 may be that as a boy he looked out won- 

 deringly over the St. Lawrence on that 

 June morning when the great fleet of 

 one hundred and forty-one ships of the 

 line and transports passed up on the 

 tide bearing Wolfe to his triumph and 

 death. A "link with the past" indeed, 

 that a living man should remember the 

 accounts of an eye-witness concerning 

 events which took place before the fall 

 of Quebec ! 



To this same old friend I once put 

 some questions about an aged woman 

 who was picking up sticks by the road- 

 side. With a shade of reluctance, due 

 doubtless to the fact that there was not 

 after all many years between them, he 



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