SPORT IN ONTARIO 



I WAS returning to my hotel, after enjoying very fair 

 sport with the brook-trout inhabiting one of the several 

 small streams which debouch on the shores of Lake 

 Muskoka, when I fell in with an up-country farmer 

 whose dusty, travel-worn team drew with pessimistic 

 slowness a heavily laden wagon of produce of sorts 

 towards the neighbouring township. 



In the familiar dialect of the " land o' cakes and 

 heather," the worthy husbandman inquired if I would 

 care for a lift into town. Having made myself as comfort- 

 able as possible amongst barrels of early, rosy-cheeked 

 apples, bags of potatoes, baskets and boxes of water- 

 melons, pumpkins, tomatoes, cranberries, sweet corn, etc., 

 I passed my cigar case to the driver of the vehicle and 

 inquired whence he hailed. But the canny Scot was 

 not to be drawn so easily by a stranger, and the only 

 satisfaction I received for my somewhat impertinent 

 curiosity was that my cigar was " verra guid." 



To be quite authentic, however, my inquiry was not 



made out of mere idle curiosity, for in one corner of the 



wagon I had noticed quite a heap of ruffed grouse, 



woodcock, and wildfowl of sorts. As to whether the 



farmer came from Klondyke or Jerusalem I cared not 



a vast deal, but I did want to learn whence came the 



game, and, incidentally, I meant to ascertain before 



parting company with my new friend. 

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