288 THROI^GH CANADA 



As the day hastens to its close, the western sky is 

 once more lit up with wonderful tints. The sun dips 

 behind the river, but its trailing garments sweep the 

 azure floor of Heaven. The red of the maple, the 

 purple of the mystic mountains, gold and silver 

 threads of the mine, seem to be woven into the fabric 

 and proudly displayed as samples gathered from the 

 broad path over which the great luminary daily 

 travels. 



A long last look, the curtains of night close in, 

 and the Golden West fades out of sight. 



