A CHRISTMAS JAUNT 



liked "the counthry," but I think that 

 sometimes the cold hard silhouette of 

 Mont Ste. Anne on the sky-line melts to 

 the softer outline of Muckish or Errigal 

 in his vision. He lingers not only for 

 his tip, but for a friendly word with the 

 strangers who know and love his land. 



Day broke in a tempest of snow that 

 would have anchored to the hotel any 

 one who was possessed of a spark of 

 prudence, if a spark there may be of so 

 dull a virtue, but lacking this, and hav- 

 ing some faith in the old saw "short 

 notice soon past," we went forth into the 

 tumult, and once embarked on the In- 

 tercolonial train across the river it was 

 too late to retreat. After all the weather 

 may clear, the ferry may cross to the 

 North Shore, and if the worst befalls the 

 spirit can endeavour to find solace in the 

 inductive truth that "there will be an- 

 other day to-morrow." 



Two seats before us in the crowded 

 car were packed a dozen convent-freed 

 200 



