UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00022228732 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hi 
 
 http://archive.org/details/butterflysflightOOrobb 
 
BUTTERFLY'S 
 FLIGHTS. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 THE "WIN AND WEAR" SBR1E'"«. 
 
 MONTREAL. 
 
 SAINT PAUL 
 L>. D. MERRILL COMPANY 
 
Entehed, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 
 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court > f the United 
 States for the Southern District of New York. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 f &.QB 
 
 I. — me. gliddon's stories .... 5 
 
 II. — WHAT GUY AND BUTTERFLY SAW. 26 
 
 III. — BUTTERFLY AT SEA 46 
 
 IV.— SAILING THROUGH LAKE ONTARIO. 66 
 
 V. — NIGHT ON BOARD THE BOAT . . 91 
 
 VI. — THE WOLF STORY 109 
 
 VII. — RIVER ST. LAWRENCE .... 127 
 
 VIII. — GOING THROUGH THE RAPIDS . . 147 
 
 IX. — COMING INTO PORT 167 
 
 X. — LETTERS 187 
 
 XL — HAL ACTS AS CHAPERON . . . 202 
 
 XH. — GOOD-BY 223 
 
Order of tlae Volumes. 
 
 1. — Butterfly at Mount Mansfield. 
 
 2. — Butterfly at Saratoga. 
 
 3. — Butterfly at Niagara. 
 
 4. — Butterfly's Trip to Montreal. 
 
 5. — Butterfly at the Sea-side. 
 
 6. — Butterfly in Philadelphia. 
 
TRIP TO MONTREAL. 
 
 I. 
 
 MR. GLIDDON'S STORIES. 
 
 jROM Niagara to Lewiston is only 
 seven miles. Butterfly and Guy 
 had hardly time to think them- 
 selves in the cars, and realize that 
 they had commenced a trip of four hun- 
 dred and forty miles, when the train 
 began to slacken, Aunt Matilda to pick up 
 her bundle, Aunt Bessie to tie her bonnet- 
 strings, Guy's mother to say " Guy !" 
 which meant, as the boy well knew, "Be 
 attentive and on the alert now, my son," 
 
 and there they were in Lewiston. 
 
 (5) 
 
Trip to Montreal. 
 
 You may think I do not go very 
 straight forward, when, after telling yon 
 this, I begin to give you the reason why 
 the car-ride had been so short ; but, as 
 this commences a new volume, I do so 
 to be sure you remember who make our 
 travelling party. The reason was, be- 
 cause the English lady and gentleman, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Gliddon, were on board, 
 and as soon as the farewells were spoken 
 between Guy, Butterfly, and their little 
 friends, Mr. Gliddon had called the 
 children to him and said : 
 
 " I have been story-gathering since I 
 saw you. I want you to hear what I 
 have found. Come now, and sit close by 
 me, while I talk. My voice is pretty 
 strong, but now and then the iron horse 
 can neigh louder," 
 
Mr. Gliddon s Stories. 
 
 Guy and Butterfly, always interested 
 when a story was to be told, were not 
 long in taking their seats just in front of 
 Mr. Gliddon ; the conductor, an obliging 
 man, very kindly turning the seat over for 
 them. 
 
 " Once upon a time," said Mr. Gliddon, 
 smiling. 
 
 " That is just the way we 3hildren 
 begin," interrupted Guy. "How came 
 you to think of it ?" 
 
 " Oh, I was a boy once, though you 
 might not think it," said the big man. 
 "And I can remember how nice it was 
 to have a little uncertainty about the 
 time of my story ; besides, I have ano- 
 ther reason. What I am going to tell 
 happened after there had been a war 
 
8 Trip to 3 font real. 
 
 between two countries that were cousins, it 
 not a little nearer." 
 
 " Oh, I understand," said Guy. " Cousin 
 John and Cousin Jonathan." 
 
 "Who are they?" asked Butterfly. 
 
 " Why, don't you know ? I thought 
 everybody did." And Guy looked at 
 Butterfly in much amazement. 
 
 " No, I do not," said truthful Butterfly, 
 blushing, but not in the least inclined to 
 equivocate. 
 
 "Then I must tell you. Cousin John 
 is John Bull, alias England, and Cousin 
 Jonathan is the great United States of 
 America." 
 
 "Little England and great America. 
 That will do to begin with. Now let us 
 go on. Once upon a time there was a 
 misunderstanding, and they foolishly tried 
 
Mr. Gliddons Stories. 9 
 
 to settle the difficulty by going to war. 
 The battles were fought mainly on the 
 water ; and as the large lakes lie between 
 the States and Canada, there were ships 
 brought on to these lakes, and fighting 
 done here. But that has nothing further 
 to do with my story than to explain how 
 it happened that there were three old ves- 
 sels on Lake Erie, large British ships, de- 
 clared unfit for service and condemned." 
 
 "What does that mean?" asked But- 
 terfly. 
 
 " Oh, unfit for service — that tells you 
 plain enough. Leaked, perhaps, or there 
 are a hundred things that might have 
 happened ; but it is not often that a vessel 
 condemned gets turned out of use," said 
 Guy. 
 
 "These did, though," went on the 
 
10 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 story-teller, " as you shall hear. When 
 it was known that they were condemned, 
 there came a number of petitions to the 
 officers to allow them to be sent over the 
 falls. You must remember they were 
 very large vessels, and people thought it 
 would be a splendid sight to see them go 
 pitching over and over, down into that 
 awful abyss." 
 
 " I should like to have been there. Did 
 they let them go ?" asked Guy. 
 
 " Yes, the authorities had no objection. 
 So, on the appointed day, a great crowd 
 collected along the banks of the river, 
 near the falls, and the vessels were got 
 into the current and left to their fate. In 
 order to add to the interest of the scene, 
 some one offered ten dollars for the 
 largest piece of wood that should be 
 
Mr. Gliddons Stories. 11 
 
 found after the vessels had gone over the 
 falls, five dollars for the second, and so 
 on ; and as some of the spectators were 
 foolish enough to suppose a vessel might 
 go over and be seen afterwards, there 
 were many who were on the alert to earn 
 the money." 
 
 " Foolish fellows, I am sure," said Guy. 
 
 " Yes, yes. You shall hear. Away 
 went the three vessels in the current. 
 They had some old torn flags flying from 
 their mast-heads, and many gay streamers, 
 floating away as merrily as if they had 
 started on a holiday excursion, the poor 
 old ships !" 
 
 "I am sorry for them," said Butterfly, 
 the tears dimming her blue eyes just a 
 little. 
 
 " That is foolish, too," said stanch 
 
12 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 Guy. "They were only wood, without 
 anything to hurt — no life, or soul, or feel- 
 ing ; yet, if they were brave old ships, I 
 am sort of sorry." 
 
 " They were brave, of course," said Mr. 
 Gliddon, innocently, "if they had the 
 British flag above them ; but it was better 
 to die a gallant death like that than to 
 come to pieces under the hammer. I 
 think, if they had souls, they would have 
 preferred it." 
 
 " So do I, if they must die," said Guy. 
 " Go on, please. What happened next ?" 
 
 " For miles they kept on pretty well 
 together. Then they got into the rapids, 
 and the oldest and weakest was torn to 
 shivers, and went over in fragments. The 
 next rode on up in sight of the falls, then 
 filled with water, and went down ; but the 
 
4? 
 
 Mr. GliddorJs Stories. i3 
 
 third, the noblest of the three, took the 
 leap gallantly, and was seen retaining her 
 form perfectly until she was lost in the 
 misis and foam below." 
 
 " Bravo for the brave old ship !" said 
 Guy, clapping his hands. " Did they ever 
 find her?" 
 
 " No ; only one piece of all these three 
 large vessels was ever seen. That was 
 about a foot long, was mashed as by a 
 vice, and its edges were notched like the 
 teeth of a saw." 
 
 "O my!" said Butterfly, holding her 
 breath. 
 
 " You may well say ' O my !' " said Mr. 
 Gliddon, putting his hand affectionately 
 upon her. " My story shows you the 
 mighty power of these falls ; and " — sink- 
 ing his voice a little lower — " it tells you, 
 
14 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 too, how great the God is who made 
 them, and how very, very good to love 
 and care for such little, insignificant 
 creatures as we are." 
 
 The children both seemed struck by 
 this thought ; and, after a moment's 
 silence, Guy said : 
 
 " But, Mr. Glidclon, my father would 
 say that mighty water, grand as it is, is a 
 very small thing in comparison with the 
 immortal soul God has given us; and, 
 after all, we are greater than even these 
 great falls." 
 
 " And your father would be right," said 
 Mr. Gliddon, looking with much interest 
 at the child, whose education among older 
 people gave him now and then an un- 
 natural maturity of thought and expres- 
 sion. 
 
Mr. Oliddons Stories. 15 
 
 "Worth, more than sparrows — even 
 such little pickaninnies as you," he said, 
 with a genial smile, which quite restored 
 Butterfly to herself. What with the big 
 vessels tumbling over the falls, Mr. 
 Gliddon's unexpected moral, and Guy's 
 sage remark, she was becoming a little 
 bewildered. 
 
 " I can tell you another story, about 
 another ship that was sent over the 
 falls." 
 
 " Oh, do, do !" said both children. 
 
 " Well, there was such a desire felt to 
 see the thing done again, that, some years 
 later, a few men purchased a large 
 schooner." 
 
 " How large ?" asked Guy. 
 
 " About one hundred and forty tons 
 burden." 
 
16 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 Guy nodded, as if he underst 
 fectly just how large that was. 
 
 " And," went on the story-teller, " had 
 it towed down the river to within half a 
 mile of the rapids, when it was cut adrL 
 and left to its fate. By the way, do yo 
 know what makes these rapids?" 
 
 " Rocks, I suppose," said Guy. 
 
 " Yes, rocks, from two to four feet high, 
 extending wholly across the river, over 
 which the water pitches successively 
 for about a mile immediately above the 
 main cataract." 
 
 "I did not know they went clear 
 across," said Guy. 
 
 "Yes, they do here. And the vessel 
 took the first ledge bravely, but when 
 she came to the second, as she pitched 
 down, over went her masts. And now 
 
Mr. Gliddon's Stories. 17 
 
 c? et°the most interesting part of my 
 story. Those who have lived longest 
 by the falls, and know most about them, 
 say nothing ever went over them and 
 
 ft 
 
 oame up alive, not even fish or water- 
 owl. Numbers of dead fish are seen 
 .every day in the gulf below the falls, 
 which are supposed to have tumbled 
 over, and now and then a wild fowl is 
 found that had fallen asleep above the 
 rapids, and so floated on to its death." 
 
 " Poor thing !" said Butterfly. 
 
 " Would they avoid it awake ?" asked 
 Guy. 
 
 " Almost always. The instinct of self- 
 preservation is so great that a fowl would 
 rarely swim to its death. But to set the 
 point at rest, the men who had purchased 
 
 this schooner put two bears and some 
 2 
 
18 Trip to Montreal, 
 
 other animals on board, and they went 
 on quietly until the schooner had taken 
 the second ledge. Then she sprang a 
 leak and began to fill with water ; and 
 no sooner did the bears see the water 
 come rushing in than, like good, sensible 
 bears as they were, they seemed to have 
 a misgiving all was not right, and, walking 
 about on deck, were seen to be looking- 
 for some means of escape. After spring- 
 ing the leak, the vessel turned stern 
 foremost and floated along more quietly. 
 So what should these wise bears do but 
 step overboard and swim ashore." 
 
 "Truly, Mr. Gliddon?" asked Guy, in- 
 credulously. 
 
 " I do not suppose there is a doubt of 
 it. They had a great deal of difficulty, 
 and they were carried half way down to 
 
Mr. Gliddoris Stories. 19 
 
 the Horse-shoe Fall by the rapidity of the 
 current before they succeeded in reach- 
 ing the shore. But they did at last. 
 
 "Hurrah for the bears!" said Guy, 
 swinging his cap over his head, much to 
 the amusement of the passengers in the 
 cars. But Butterfly asked as usual, want- 
 ing to know the end of the story : 
 
 "What became of them then?" 
 
 "I don't know. Perhaps they were 
 allowed their freedom after that. I think 
 they deserved it." 
 
 " Perhaps their fright tamed them, and 
 they were ready when they came ashore 
 to promise to do no harm for all the future 
 years of their lives, like eating up inno- 
 cent children and pretty lambs," said Guy. 
 
 "Perhaps so, no one can tell. And, 
 fortunately for our story, no one knows." 
 
20 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 " But about the schooner ?" 
 
 " Yes. The schooner, after she changed 
 her position to stern foremost, seemed to 
 lose heart, and went swinging along, until 
 she came to the great Horse-shoe Fall. 
 Then she steadied herself for one moment, 
 as if reflecting whether she would leap or 
 not, and over she went, her bowsprit being 
 the last thing that was seen of her." 
 
 " But she came up again ?" asked 
 Guy. 
 
 "Never — though many of her pieces 
 did. They were picked up miles away, in 
 small bits, bruised, torn all to shivers ; 
 hardly, it may be said, a whole atom of 
 her left." 
 
 "And the animals — the poor, poor 
 helpless things ?" asked Butterfly. 
 
 " Yes — a little sir] should think of them, 
 
Mr. GUddons Stories. 21 
 
 None ever came to shore but the bears, 
 as I have told you. If a fish or a water- 
 fowl could not go over the falls, an animal 
 would have very little chance." 
 
 "I think it was cruel," said Butterfly, 
 indignantly. 
 
 Just at this moment the car-whistle 
 sounded vigorously, and Mr. Gliddon 
 said, much to the children's surprise, 
 " Here we are at Le wist on ;" and Guy's 
 mother called, as I have already told my 
 readers, " Guy !" so the children hastily 
 gathered up their things, and by the 
 time the cars were in the station they were 
 ready to get out. 
 
 The station was some distance from the 
 steamboat landing, and now there was 
 to come piling into stage-coaches, which 
 was to show the true character of the 
 
22 Trip to Montreal 
 
 travellers, for the coaches could not 
 contain all who wished to go. The 
 walk to the boat would be long, the road 
 sandy, the day hot, and the boat off at the 
 appointed time without waiting for pas- 
 sengers. All this Guy ascertained, after 
 running about and making a few inquiries, 
 then he returned to consult with the ladies 
 of his party. 
 
 " We cannot walk, that is certain," said 
 Aunt Matilda. 
 
 " No, Guy is the only one that can do 
 so," said his mother. 
 
 " I can," said Butterfly. 
 
 "Yes, she is as good as a boy," said 
 Guy. " Do let her. If we may both walk, 
 perhaps there can room be made for you 
 three ladies. I will see." 
 
 In a moment he returned with a radiant 
 
Mr. Gliddon's Stories. 23 
 
 face. " The driver says," he said, " if we 
 will walk, he will see you over the road in 
 some way, and no fail. I think we can 
 trust him, he looks clever. So, Butterfly, 
 we will be off with those people that are 
 just starting. There they go — come quick !" 
 
 "There is no trouble in their going," 
 said Guy's mother, in reply to an inquiring 
 look from Aunt Bessie, " if you are not 
 afraid of Butterfly's getting too tired." 
 
 " I am not. She is strong, and loves a 
 walk, and I know f we can trust Guy to 
 take care of her." 
 
 Guy placed himself a step nearer But- 
 terfly, and looked up in Aunt Bessie's face 
 with a pleased, grateful look, but did not 
 answer her. Then he took hold of But- 
 terfly's hand, and touching his cap to the 
 ladies, in quite as old and gentlemanly a 
 
24 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 way as his father would have done, the 
 two children followed the few who had 
 been obliging and ready to walk. 
 
 A gentleman saw the children coming, 
 and stopped for them. 
 
 " You are active young travellers," ho 
 said, as they approached. " I love to see 
 children who know their feet were made 
 to use." 
 
 " We are very fond of walking," said Guy. 
 
 " Are you brother and sister ?" 
 
 " no. My name is Guy Harrington, 
 and this is Butterfly — I mean, Ellen 
 Courtland. We are not relations." 
 
 " So, so," said the old gentleman, with 
 a merry twinkle in his eye. " That is be- 
 ginning early." 
 
 Guy did not know what he meant, but 
 Butterfly did. She was sure he meant 
 
Mr. Gliddons Stories. 25 
 
 they were young to be travelling, and 
 walking part of the way too. So she 
 said : 
 
 " no, sir ! I am ten years old, and I 
 have my aunts with me, and they like to 
 have me walk whenever I can. They 
 don't love a lazy child. I have heard 
 them say so a hundred times." 
 
 " Sensible aunts, those of yours," said 
 the gentleman, with another smile. " I 
 must make their acquaintance. But while 
 you are away from them, let us see all we 
 can. What is that, right before you? 
 Can you tell me? I am quite sure you 
 neither of you ever saw anything as flue 
 before." 
 
 Guy and Butterfly both looked in the 
 direction of his finger, and Guy said, " The 
 great bridge !" 
 
II. 
 
 WHAT THEY SAW. 
 
 S Guy uttered the words, "The 
 
 great bridge," with which my 
 
 -r~** last chapter closed, Butterfly, 
 
 dropping his hand, turned and made a 
 
 few hasty steps back. This then, right 
 
 before her, was the great Suspension 
 
 Bridge, which, when it was erected, she 
 
 had heard Aunt Matilda say was the 
 
 biggest and most wonderful bridge in the 
 
 world. Here was the bridge — but where 
 
 were the aunts? 
 
 * Butterfly !" called Guy, in much asto~ 
 
 nishment, " where are you going ?" 
 (26) 
 
What They Saiv. 27 
 
 "To tell them," answered Butterfly, a 
 little doubtfully. 
 
 " Tell who, and what ?" 
 
 " Why, my aunts, that here is the great 
 bridge." 
 
 " As if they had not eyes in their 
 heads to see it for themselves !" 
 
 " So they have," said Butterfly, stopping 
 abruptly, and then coming back ; " but, 
 O dear ! isn't it splendid ! Tell me all 
 about it, Guy." And taking hold of his 
 hand again, she looked up in his face 
 eagerly for information. 
 
 "All I know about it is very easily 
 told," said Guy, laughing. "There is 
 the bridge. Can you tell us, sir," speak- 
 ing to the gentleman who had waited 
 for them, " anything more ?" 
 
 " I think I can," answered the gentle- 
 
28 Trip to Montreal 
 
 man, pleasantly. " When it was made, it 
 was considered one of the wonders of 
 the world. It connects, as you see, 
 Canada and the United States, and be- 
 longs to a company formed from men of 
 both countries." 
 
 "Who built it?" asked Guy, always 
 desirous to know who had done a great 
 thing. 
 
 "A gentleman of the name of Serrell, 
 from Canada East. You see, it was 
 very desirable to have this way of 
 communicating between the two countries ; 
 but to make a bridge here seemed almost 
 impossible. Let me tell you the dimen- 
 sions of this. Then, if you know anything 
 of figures, you will have some idea how 
 large it is." 
 
 " I don't know that we shall remember 
 
What They Saw. 29 
 
 theni, but we shall be glad to be told," 
 said Guy. 
 
 "I hardly think you will. Yet some- 
 times a difficult thing like this is the very 
 one a child remembers when it forgets 
 a great deal simpler one. I wonder if 
 you know a child's mind, like its body, 
 grows by what it feeds on ; so the 
 stronger the food, often the stronger the 
 growth." 
 
 " Tough figures will make tough minds, 
 then," said Guy, smiling. 
 
 " Something like that. Trying to 
 remember a hard thing will make you 
 able to do hard work ; and that is what 
 you must do if you are to make a man 
 one of these days," laying his hand 
 kindly on Guy's shoulder. 
 
 " It is what I intend to be, sir," said 
 
30 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 Guy. " And now for the pill, or the tonic, 
 or whatever you would call it, while we 
 have the bridge before us to help us 
 swallow it." 
 
 " This bridge, you see, has a very long 
 span. It is one thousand and forty-five 
 feet long. Now, of course, such a length 
 must have very firm supports; so there 
 they are, large towers of cut stone !" 
 
 "What makes them stand in the 
 water?" asked Guy, looking at them 
 curiously. 
 
 " They are secured by anchors sunk 
 firmly into the solid rock ; and then, on 
 each side, there are five cables." 
 
 " I know about cables. They are big 
 ropes, or wires, or something that holds 
 up, made of ever so many small cords." 
 
 " Yes, each cable here is made of two 
 
What They Saw. 31 
 
 hundred and fifty strands of wire. Only 
 think of that !" 
 
 "Five times two hundred and fifty 
 make twelve hundred and fifty wires," 
 said Guy, readily. " That is a great 
 number." 
 
 " Yes, and every one of these wires is 
 twelve hundred and forty-five feet in length. 
 Now multiply the length by the width, and 
 see how much wire there is there." 
 
 This was too long a sum for Guy to do 
 in his head, and I am not sure but 
 Butterfly might have made a mistake if 
 she had attempted it upon her slate ; so 
 Guy said, after one or two useless efforts, 
 that he could not make it out ; and the 
 gentleman confessed that he had been 
 trying also, but could not get beyond the 
 first two figures. 
 
32 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 After this confession, the children stood 
 in much less awe of him, walked nearer 
 to him, and began to chat in a free-and- 
 easy way, which pleased the gentleman 
 very much. 
 
 " What is that?" asked Butterfly, stop- 
 ping quite still, as she often did when any- 
 thing interested her, and pointing to a tall 
 stone shaft, on the side of the river oppo- 
 site Lewiston, where the bridge ended. 
 
 " That is Brock's Monument, and the 
 town it is in is Queenstown." 
 
 "And Queenstown is in Canada; there- 
 fore it is named for her right royal 
 majesty Queen Victoria," said Guy. 
 
 " I presume so ; but it is more noted 
 for the gallant defence the British made 
 here in the war of 1812, than for anything 
 else. There was a brave officer, Sir 
 
What They Saw. 33 
 
 Isaac Brock, killed at that time. The 
 English are very fond of putting up 
 monuments to mark any worthy action. 
 If a man dies bravely righting for his 
 country, they like to build something 
 which shall say to those around, ' See 
 here ! England remembers, and wants eve- 
 rybody that comes here to remember also, 
 what her children have done for her !'" 
 
 "Mr. Gliddon will like that," said Guy, 
 turning to Butterfly ; " for he thinks there 
 is no other country in the world quite 
 equal to old England." 
 
 "And Marie says France ; and I say the 
 United States of America," answered 
 Butterfly. 
 
 ■■■ So do I ! Three cheers for the stars 
 and stripes !" As Guy said this, he took 
 off his cap and swung it round his head. 
 
34 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 But as for that cap of Guy's, it was taken 
 off, tossed up, swung round, and treated 
 in general in sucli an expressive way that 
 the only wonder was it ever staid on his 
 head at all. Of its own accord, as soon 
 as the ideas got into the busy brain 
 below it, you would almost have expected 
 to see it starting away. 
 
 " I wish we could go to this monument," 
 he ended by saying ; " but I suppose," — 
 with a droll smile — " even if we should 
 ask the captain of our steamboat to wait 
 for us, he would hardly be obliging 
 enough to do so." 
 
 " I am afraid not," said the gentleman ; 
 " but as I have been there and you cannot 
 do any better now, suppose you see it 
 through my eyes?" 
 
 " I should like that right well, if you 
 
What They Saw. 35 
 
 please, sir," said Guy. But Butterfly, not 
 quite understanding him, wondered how 
 they could do so, particularly as the 
 gentleman wore spectacles ; so she looked 
 at him with such an expression of wonder 
 on her face that, half understanding her, 
 he smiled. 
 
 " This is the way," he said, answering 
 her without any further explanation. 
 " The monument is one hundred and 
 eighty feet high, but instead of being- 
 plain stone, as it looks from here, it is 
 made up of a variety of stones. First, 
 there is a great stone, forty feet square, 
 with four lions on it." 
 
 " Eeal, live lions?" asked Butterfly. 
 
 " O no ; stone lions. The emblem of 
 England is a lion, you know, so they are 
 put on every patriotic thing." 
 
3f) Trip to Montreal. 
 
 " As we use the eagle," said Guv. 
 
 "Yes, in the same way. Well, above 
 this conies the base of the pedestal, and 
 then the pedestal, and then the base of 
 the shaft, and then the shaft itself, and 
 then a Corinthian capital, on which is 
 wrought a statue of the goddess of War." 
 
 " That is good," said Guy, " as Brock 
 died in war." 
 
 " Yes, very appropriate. Then on this 
 capital is a dome, and on this dome is a 
 statue of General Brock." 
 
 " It must be pretty large, to be seen 
 with all those things under it, I should 
 think," said Guy. 
 
 "It is a colossal statue, which, I sup- 
 pose, you know means very large." 
 
 Now Butterfly had seen pictures of mon- 
 uments, and had always supposed they 
 
What They Saw. 37 
 
 were just tall wooden steeples with a man 
 or a horse on the top, as they had a 
 weather-cock on the top of their meeting- 
 house steeple at home. She was, there- 
 fore, very much surprised to hear that it 
 took so many things to make up a real 
 one, and she walked along with her eyes 
 fixed upon this, trying to remember all 
 she had been told about it, until, hap- 
 pening to see the bridge again, she was 
 a little frightened for fear she should 
 forget the number of cables, wires, 
 feet, and so forth ; and the consequence 
 was that the whole information began to 
 tumble out of her memory as fast as it 
 could. The feet kicking the wires, the 
 wires letting the cables slip, the cables 
 pulling down the towers, the towers 
 pulling up the anchors, and the anchors 
 
38 Trip to Montreal 
 
 dragging down the whole bridge, and 
 then the monument came tumbling after 
 it. Away went General Brock, and the 
 dome, and the Corinthian capital, and the 
 shaft, and the base of the shaft, and the 
 pedestal, and the base of the pedestal ; 
 and even the lions rolled off the sides of 
 the sub-base, leaving nothing there but a 
 great square stone, after all. And then 
 there was the water, and the long steam- 
 boat, so much larger than the Minnehaha 
 on Lake George, and stage-coaches rat- 
 tling in, and — yes, there could be no 
 mistake — Aunt Matilda, Aunt Bessie, and 
 Guy's mother so near them, dashing up 
 the road, that she heard Aunt Bessie say, 
 " There are the children, safe !" 
 
 And then Guy's cap had to come off, of 
 course, and there was a great deal of 
 
What They Saw. 39 
 
 waving done, with about as much shout- 
 ing as if Guy and Butterfly had just been 
 saved from a wreck on Kobinson Crusoe's 
 island. But I must say for Butterfly, 
 that her part of this was quiet and lady- 
 like. 
 
 There had been some doubt in the 
 travellers' mind whether they would take 
 the American or English steamer to Mont- 
 real, but they had decided to take the 
 American, Guy being very desirous to 
 patronize everything American while he 
 could, and the others caring little ; so 
 now, without delay, they went on board 
 their steamer, and Butterfly, experienced 
 traveller as she already thought herself, 
 found a new world. 
 
 The boat was crowded with passengers, 
 and as the children looked around, there 
 
40 Trip to Montreal, 
 
 was not a face among them that they had 
 ever seen before. 
 
 " I thought Mr. and Mrs. Gliddon were 
 coming," said Butterfly, much disap- 
 pointed at missing her new, kind Mends. 
 
 " Catch Mr. Gliddon," answered Guy, 
 " on board an American boat, when there 
 was an English one to be found." And 
 then Guy congratulated himself on his 
 own choice having been adopted. "We 
 men — I mean, men generally," said Guy, 
 correcting himself, "like to stick by oui 
 own flag, if we can." 
 
 " I like the new things," said Butterfly, 
 innocently. 
 
 " So do I, but I always choose American." 
 
 This was something Butterfly could not 
 understand. I doubt whether she would 
 have felt just so, if she had ; but she is 
 
What They Saw. 41 
 
 only a little girl, you know, so you must 
 excuse her. 
 
 While the children were looking about 
 them, and talking busily, the aunts and 
 Guy's mother had been hunting up their 
 state-rooms, the numbers of which were 
 upon the tickets they had bought in Nia- 
 gara. As soon as they had found them, 
 Aunt Bessie came for Butterfly. 
 
 " Come," she said, " and see what a 
 cunning little room you are to have for 
 the next twenty-four hours.' 
 
 In her haste to follow, B itterfly forgot 
 to take her travelling-bag. She had put 
 it down close by a seat when she first 
 came on board, and that v as the last she 
 thought of it until Aunt Bessie said, as 
 she turned the key of the state-room : 
 
 " We will put our bags in here, and you 
 
42 Trip to Montreal, 
 
 can take off your hat, if you wish. This 
 boat is our hotel for the present, and we 
 shall live here as we did at the Clarendon." 
 
 But Butterfly heard very little of what 
 Aunt Bessie was saying. Everything 
 else was lost in the thought of the bag. 
 
 " dear ! Guy ! Aunt Bessie ! O dear 
 me!" she said, clasping her hands to- 
 gether, and looking very much frightened. 
 
 "What is it?" asked Aunt Bessie, 
 startled. 
 
 "My bag— I've lost it!" 
 
 Now, as this was the first thing Butter- 
 fly had lost since she had been on her 
 travels, Aunt Bessie did not, even when 
 she first heard of it, feel disposed to 
 blame her. So she said, quietly : 
 
 "I do not think it is lost. Don't be 
 frightened. Try to recollect where you had 
 
What They Saw. 43 
 
 it last. I saw it in your hand when you 
 came on board of the boat." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," said Guy, "she put it 
 down on deck. If it has not been stolen, 
 it is there now. Come, Butterfly !" 
 
 So the children rushed up on deck — in 
 a way which made timid people that saw 
 them think some accident was about to 
 happen — to the spot where Guy thought 
 she might have left it. But how differ- 
 ent everything looked, now they were con- 
 fused and in a hurry. The cabin door 
 seemed to have turned itself about to 
 where the smoke-pipe was, and the smoke- 
 pipe to have taken its station where the 
 cabin door was. The long row-boats that 
 they knew were swung on the middle of the 
 steamer seemed to have gone to the stern, 
 and the wheel to have followed them. In 
 
44 Trip to Montreal, 
 
 short, everything had turned topsy-turvy 
 while they had been in the cabin. 
 
 " Little miss," said a gruff voice, swing- 
 ing Butterfly's bag under her very nose at 
 the minute she was ready to cry from dis- 
 appointment and alarm, "if you are 
 looking for this, here it is. I saw you put 
 it down, and then run away ; so I kept my 
 eye on it for you. It isn't the safest way 
 of travelling, even for a child. Is there 
 no one on board who has the care of 
 you?" 
 
 " Thank you, sir, I have," said Guy, tak- 
 ing the bag, with a nice bow. 
 
 "And so have my aunts," added But- 
 terfly. "I do thank you very much in- 
 deed. I thought I had lost it forever, 
 and I was so sorry, for I didn't mean to 
 lose a thing all the time. My mother 
 
What They Saw. 45 
 
 said it would make me troublesome, if I 
 did. I do thank you a thousand times." 
 
 "You are very welcome," said the man, 
 smiling. 
 
 How tall and large he was, and how grim 
 he did look, for all his smile ! Butterfly took 
 her bag, looking up in a very timid way. 
 Something about him made her think in a 
 moment of the lions she had heard about on 
 the side of General Brock's monument, but 
 she would not have said this, even to Gu} r , 
 for Butterfly was a grateful little girl. 
 
 Aunt Bessie was very glad when the 
 children came running into the state-room 
 with the lost bag. She kissed the little 
 excited face lifted up to hers, for this 
 expression of forgiveness, and then said. 
 
 " Now we will put our room in order foi 
 the trip." 
 
Ill 
 
 BUTTERFLY AT SEA. 
 
 00M, Aunt Bessie !" This, after 
 sitting some moments in silence, 
 looking around the state-room, 
 was Butterfly's first exclamation, ac- 
 companied by a merry laugh. " Do you 
 call this bit of a cubby, a real, live 
 room ?" 
 
 Now Aunt Bessie understood that when 
 Butterfly asked if a thing was live, she 
 meant a real, true thing, and not a part of 
 a story or a plaything, so she answered : 
 
 "As we are to stay here until we reach 
 Ogdensburg, to-morrow, we shall find it is." 
 
 (46) 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 47 
 
 " O my ! isn't it splendid ! Isn't it the 
 most beautiful, perfect, elegant place you 
 ever saw in all your life, Aunt Bessie ?" 
 
 "Well," said Aunt Bessie, laughing, "1 
 can't say that it is. You use almost too 
 many of those great words for so little a 
 girl, don't you, Butterfly?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, mother says I do. But 
 O dear ! O dear me ! I never, in all my 
 whole, live-long life, saw, or knew, or heard, 
 or dreamt of such a be — a — u — ti — fu — 1 
 room. Why, I don't believe Princess 
 Adelaide, or Princess Alice, or any of 
 Queen Victoria's little girls, have one half 
 so cunning ! Are we really and truly go- 
 ing to have this for our own until we get 
 to Ogdensburg?" 
 
 "Keally and truly," answered Aunt 
 Bessie. 
 
48 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 "Then let's fix up." Saying which, 
 Butterfly jumped from the odd-shaped 
 seat upon which she had been sitting, 
 drew aside some white muslin curtains, 
 and peeped behind them. There were 
 two cunning little beds made up with the 
 whitest of sheets and counterpanes, and 
 the tiniest of pillows. 
 
 "What is this?" she asked, after 
 looking a minute. 
 
 " These are our beds. The name on 
 board a boat for them is berths. How 
 do you like them ?" 
 
 Butterfly answered by jumping into 
 one, and extending herself at full length. 
 
 " I sha'n't sleep one wink," she said, at 
 length. 
 
 " Why not?" asked Aunt Bessie. 
 
 " dear ! It is so nice ! I can't bear 
 
Butterfly at Bea. 49 
 
 to lose a minute from seeing it. I shall 
 stay awake all night long so not to." 
 
 " Shall you ?" said Aunt Bessie, gravel}'. 
 
 " All night long. I wouldn't lose seeing 
 it for all the world ! "Was it made a pur- 
 pose, Aunt Bessie?" 
 
 " On purpose for what?" 
 
 "Why, for little girls to be so happy 
 in." 
 
 H I rather think it was," said good Aunt 
 Bessie. 
 
 " Well, this is the goodest world I ever 
 did live in." And as she said this, Butter- 
 fly drew herself upon her elbow, and 
 looked delightedly around her. "It is 
 not bigger than Carrie Jones' baby-house, 
 yet they are all here." 
 
 They was not very definite, but Aunt 
 Bessie understood her to mean everything 
 
50 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 that was indispensably needed in a sleep- 
 ing-room ; so she said : 
 
 " Yes, all here, on a limited scale, But- 
 terfly." 
 
 " I don't know just what you mean by a 
 limited scale, Aunt Bessie, but I had 
 rather have it than the biggest parlor at 
 Saratoga." 
 
 " I dare say." 
 
 "I'll put my bag here, and your bag 
 there. My trunk — where is my trunk, Aunt 
 Bessie?" 
 
 " With the rest of the luggage. I don't 
 know where it is kept." 
 
 "And are not we to have it here?" 
 
 " "Where would you put it ?" 
 
 Butterfly looked around the state-room. 
 With Aunt Bessie and herself both stand- 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 51 
 
 ing, I doubt whether she could have found 
 room to put down a quart cup. 
 
 " So there isn't," she said, after making 
 a very deliberate survey. "I like it, 
 though, better and better." 
 
 " I am glad of it," said Aunt Bessie. 
 " Now r I will lie down a few minutes, so 
 you shall have room to do your contem- 
 plated fixing up." 
 
 Butterfly thought first just what Aunt 
 Bessie could mean by contemplated ; but, 
 not being able to satisfy herself, and not 
 liking to be troublesome, she resolved to 
 wait until some other time to inquire, and 
 go to work now. 
 
 It was amusing to lie still, as Aunt 
 Bessie did, and watch Butterfly. She 
 was an orderly little girl, and had, besides, 
 a tasteful way of arranging. Her mother 
 
52 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 had early taught her it costs no more 
 trouble, and brings about a much more 
 desirable result, to do whatever she did in 
 the nicest and prettiest way. To lay her 
 clothes smoothly in her drawers ; to have 
 her handkerchiefs put squarely in a pile ; 
 her hair-ribbons laid smoothly in a little 
 box, the colors that looked best together 
 side by side ; and all the other tasteful 
 things which little girls will love to do if 
 they are willing to take pains. These are 
 two very important words — " Take pains." 
 I wonder if my young friends who are 
 reading this book know how much they 
 mean ? 
 
 Butterfly was taking pains as she 
 arranged her own and Aunt Bessie's 
 travelling things, so the good aunt loved 
 to watch her as she rested. 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 53 
 
 So fully was Butterfly occupied for a 
 half hour that she forgot everybody and 
 everything else, therefore she was startled 
 when she heard a knock at the state-room 
 door. 
 
 "What is that?" she asked. 
 
 " A knock on the door. Open it." 
 
 "Do they knock here? How funny!" 
 And opening the door there stood Guy. 
 
 " Are you never coming out ?" he asked, 
 a little impatiently. ■" I have been wait- 
 ing here as patient as a saint this long 
 time. I thought we should get to Mont- 
 real before you made your appearance, 
 and you have lost seeing the last of the 
 bridge and the monument already." 
 
 " Why," said Butterfly, a little confused, 
 " we haven't started yet. I've been wait- 
 ing for the boat to move, then I was 
 
54 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 coming. And, Guy !" throwing her 
 door wide open and pulling him in, " did 
 you ever see such a beauty of a room ?" 
 
 " There are two hundred on board this 
 very boat as like it as two peas in a pod," 
 said Guy, contemptuously. 
 
 " Two hundred !" And Butterfly fairly 
 held her breath in surprise. 
 
 " Of course there are. Where did you 
 suppose all these passengers were to 
 sleep?" 
 
 "I never thought." Which was very 
 true. Butterfly had been too busy with 
 other things. 
 
 "Where is Aunt Matilda?" she said, 
 remembering her. 
 
 " She is with my mother. They have a 
 state-room together next to mine. And I, 
 poor solitary chap that I am, have to take 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 55 
 
 in a big man for company. By the way, 
 I believe it is that very gruff fellow that 
 kept your bag for you, so he is good- 
 natured, at least." 
 
 "Indeed he is. I thank him a thou- 
 sand times. Now let us go and see 
 them." 
 
 "See who?" Guy could not get used 
 to Butterfly's indefinite way of saying 
 things. She seemed to suppose, because 
 she knew so well what she wanted to do, 
 everybody else must know also. 
 
 "Why, your mother and Aunt Ma- 
 tilda !" 
 
 "Come, then; only hurry, or we shall 
 be in the rapids before we are on 
 deck." 
 
 Aunt Matilda's state-room was at the 
 opposite extremity of the cabin from the 
 
56 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 one occupied by Butterfly, so, as the 
 children went towards it, Butterfly had a 
 fine chance to peep in at the many open 
 doors of the state-rooms. 
 
 No one saw the child, with her beam- 
 ing, pretty face, so full of amused aston- 
 ishment, but smiled back ; therefore, by 
 the time Guy tapped at his mother's door, 
 Butterfly hardly knew how to contain her 
 happiness within proper bounds. 
 
 "0 my! Aunt Matilda," she said, 
 tumbling in head first, " there are two 
 hundred of them ! Guy says there are. 
 And here is yours besides ; and they 
 are play-rooms, after all. Aunt Bessie 
 thought they were real live ones !" 
 
 Aunt Matilda was so accustomed to 
 Butterfly's random way of speaking that 
 she easily understood her, so she said : 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 
 
 "It is all very new and droll to you, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 " It is the beautifulest place I ever saw ; 
 and there were ever so many little girls, 
 and such a lot of shawls, and red curtains 
 in some, and white in the others, and 
 white bed-quilts, and " 
 
 " If you are going to give an inventory 
 of the whole two hundred," said Guy, 
 interrupting her, " that will end us for to- 
 day. We may as well give it up for 
 lost." 
 
 " What is an inventory ?" asked Butter- 
 fly, easily diverted. 
 
 " A list of articles contained anywhere." 
 
 "That is hardly Webster's definition, 
 I think, Guy," said his mother, smiling. 
 
 " No ; but it will answer. Ready, But- 
 terfly?" 
 
58 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 "When the boat starts, and I have 
 kissed Aunt Matilda," said Butterfly, 
 holding up her lips. 
 
 " My kiss too," said Guy's mother. 
 
 " How girls do love to kiss !" said Guy, 
 looking on. 
 
 "So do some boys," said his mother, 
 bending over him. 
 
 Guy did not say a word, but Butterfly 
 heard a sound very like a kiss, then he 
 held his hand out to her, and said, 
 " Come !" So they went' back again 
 through the whole length of the cabin, 
 Butterfly, more at home now, nodding and 
 smiling to the little girls in the state- 
 rooms. 
 
 " You talk about starting. Let me see 
 you find the bridge and the monument, if 
 you can," said Guy, as he brought twp 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 59 
 
 stools and put them in the stern of the 
 boat, where the view was uninterrupted. 
 
 Butterfly looked in all directions, but 
 nothing was to be seen of them ; and then, 
 to her surprise, she found the boat was 
 actually on its way. She had no idea 
 before, so quietly did it move, that they 
 had left the wharf at Lewiston. 
 
 "After all, we are just in time." These 
 were the first words Guy spoke after they 
 had seated themselves. 
 
 " That is Fort Niagara right before you. 
 I thought we had lost it." 
 
 " Why, it is not a bit like Fort Ticon- 
 deroga," said Butterfly, looking at the fort 
 with intense interest. 
 
 "No, because this is a fort and that was 
 not. I wish we had some one here to tell 
 us stories of this fort. It has been a 
 
60 Trip to Montreal 
 
 famous place in the wars of the whites 
 and the Indians, and also those between 
 the French and English." 
 
 Guy gazed around among the passen- 
 gers who were nearest them, hoping to 
 find the wished-for story-teller ; but no 
 one who looked as if he cared in the least 
 for the little boy and girl was to be seen, 
 so he began himself : 
 
 " I can tell you this much about it. It 
 stands at the mouth of the Niagara river, 
 where it empties into Lake Ontario. Now, 
 before you know it, we shall be in the 
 lake. You see, this is to keep great ves- 
 sels from sailing up the river, if we ever 
 should quarrel with Great Britain and go 
 to war." ■-."".".•■ 
 
 Butterfly had little idea what it meant 
 to go to war, and so the most she thought 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 61 
 
 of the fort was that it was a very ugly- 
 looking building, not half as pretty as Fort 
 Ticonderoga, that Guy said was just " no 
 fort at all." 
 
 " Pretty soon we shall see an English 
 fort," said Guy. " You must remember, 
 Butterfly," — Butterfly nodded her head 
 by way of promise that she would — 
 " that Lake Ontario and the river St. 
 Lawrence run between two distinct 
 countries, Canada and the United States ; 
 and that, as we sail along, we shall have 
 English towns on one side and American 
 on the other ; just as now, there is Fort 
 Niagara, American, on this side, and — 
 there, you will see it very soon — Fort 
 Massasanga on the other. Let us watch 
 and see if the American isn't a great deal 
 the best." 
 
62 tfrip to Montreal. 
 
 " Yes," said Butterfly, gravely. " But I 
 don't like forts half as well as I do the 
 water. Oh, Guy, do look there, and see 
 how smooth and beautiful it is, all but 
 where the boat has gone, and that looks — 
 looks — looks" — and Butterfly hesitated, 
 trying to think of something it did look 
 like. 
 
 " Like the foam of the ocean," said 
 Guy. 
 
 " Yes, I guess so. I never saw it, but 
 it does," answered Butterfly, perfectly 
 satisfied. 
 
 " I say," Guy called out, suddenly, 
 " did you see it ?" 
 
 " See what '?" asked Butterfly, starting 
 up and opening her eyes very wide. 
 
 " Why, that fish. I should think it was 
 as long as my whole arm," extending an 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 63 
 
 arm which to a man might not have 
 seemed so very long. 
 "No— where?" 
 
 " Oh, it's gone for good. Butterfly, if 
 the steamboat would only stop a little 
 while, and somebody would lend me a 
 line, I could catch fish enough for a picnic 
 dinner." 
 
 " How nice that would be !" said But- 
 terfly. " And we would put off to a little 
 island, as the people do on Lake George, 
 and have a grand time." 
 
 " Yes, and we would camp out." 
 " So we could ! And we would build a 
 fire, and make a nice cup of tea for your 
 aunts and my mother." 
 " And then at night !" 
 " What would you do, then ?" 
 The children turned to see a boy, a 
 
64 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 little larger than Guy, standing close by 
 his side. The boy was dressed like an 
 old man, Guy thought, and looked so 
 differently from the children with whom 
 he had been used to play, that for an 
 instant he was rather in doubt whether it 
 was a boy or a dwarf that had spoken to 
 him. But the boy raised his hat politely, 
 and said : 
 
 "Excuse me — but there is nothing I 
 like so well as camping out. I heard you 
 talking about it, and I spoke without 
 thinking." 
 
 " Sit down," said Guy, moving an 
 empty seat near him. " We were saying, 
 if we could stop the boat, and if we had 
 a line, and if we could land on a little 
 island, and if we could build a tent, what 
 we would like to do." 
 
Butterfly at Sea. 65 
 
 "I live in Montreal," said the boy, 
 sitting down, " and every summer, in the 
 holidays, my father sends me away with 
 my tutor. There he is, don't you see 
 him ?" pointing to a short, square-looking 
 young man, dressed in light clothes, with 
 a tall white beaver. " I can tell you, he 
 is a nice young man, and we have nice 
 times together. We fish, and hunt, and 
 camp out. I will show you, if you go on 
 to Montreal. Are you going?" 
 
 " Yes," said Guy. 
 
 " I am very glad. I go over here every 
 year. My father says I may go to Niagara 
 until I am tired of it — and I think it will 
 be every year as long as I live." 
 
 " So would I," said Butterfly. 
 
 The boy nodded approval, and then 
 said, " Here we go into Lake Ontario !" 
 
IV. 
 
 LAKE ONTAEIO. 
 
 HEN the boy said, " Here we go 
 
 into Lake Ontario," Butteifly 
 
 started to run down into the 
 
 cabin for Aunt Bessie. That morning 
 
 she had heard the stories of the vessels 
 
 being sent over the falls, and she had her 
 
 thoughts so full of the way they went 
 
 tumbling down, that, without knowing it, 
 
 she had an idea, when they passed from 
 
 Niagara river into Lake Ontario, they 
 
 were to go over something that would 
 
 set the boat into a great whirl, and 
 
 perhaps upset it ; so her first thought 
 
 was to seek Aunt Bessie's protection. 
 (66) 
 
Lake Ontario. 67 
 
 "Where are you going?" said Guy. 
 " Wait and hear about Lake Ontario." 
 
 By this time Butterfly had looked 
 around her, and saw nothing but a smooth 
 expanse of water, the lake and the river 
 running together without the least per- 
 ceptible change. 
 
 " I thought," said Butterfly. And then 
 she stopped short. 
 
 " Thought what ?" 
 
 " That something was coming !" 
 
 " So there is — or rather it has come. 
 Here we are now in Lake Ontario, and I 
 can tell you a great deal about it. I 
 learned it on purpose last night. The 
 Guide Book says : 
 
 " Lake Ontario is a wonderful sheet of 
 fresh water. It is two hundred and thirty- 
 five feet above the level of the sea, one 
 
68 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 hundred fathoms deep, two hundred miles 
 long, and sixty wide." 
 
 " Correct, Mr. Niles would say," said 
 the new-comer, nodding towards his tutor. 
 
 " In crossing it, one loses sight of land 
 altogether." 
 
 " How nice !" said Butterfly, clapping 
 her hands. " No land anywhere to be 
 seen! Won't it be droll ?" 
 
 "Yes, if it is pleasant," said the 
 stranger ; " but if a storm comes, look out, 
 that is all ! I was on board once when 
 we had a terrific blow. Mr. Niles said he 
 had crossed the Atlantic three times, and 
 he never had seen anything like it. I tell 
 you what, sir," — addressing Guy, who liked 
 to be called sir — " it was one of the fiercest 
 gales that ever swept this lake. Mr. 
 Niles says a storm in one of these land- 
 
Luke Ontario. 69 
 
 locked lakes is a great deal more danger- 
 ous than in the open sea. Even the big 
 men-of-war get pretty well tossed about." 
 
 " I hope we sha'n't have any," said 
 Butterfly, looking frightened. 
 
 " Nothing that looks like one, I will 
 promise you, to-night. Just look up 
 there. There isn't a cloud in the sky, 
 and the wind is right for pleasant 
 weather. My mother has always been a 
 little timid about me since that time, and 
 Mr. Niles promised her not to go on to 
 the lake unless the day was perfect. 
 Niles is great on weather. He guesses 
 right nine times out of ten. This morning 
 he came into my room. ' Hal !' said he, 
 1 everything is promising, and if you like 
 we will start to-day.' That is one thing 
 I like about my tutor. He never says 
 
70 Trip to Montreal 
 
 you must and you must not, as so many of 
 them have done, but it is always, ' Hal, if 
 you please,' ' Hadn't we better T or some- 
 thing that makes a fellow feel like a man." 
 
 " That is the way my father does," said 
 Guy. " I don't believe, if I was one 
 hundred years old, he would treat me any 
 different from what he does now." 
 
 Hal laughed. "My father says, 'Ask 
 Niles,' ' Go to Niles,' ' Do as Niles says.' " 
 
 "I never had a tutor," said Guy. "I 
 always go to school. I am an only child, 
 you see," he added, apologetically, " and 
 my father says nothing will be easier 
 than to spoil me." 
 
 " I am an only son," said Hal ; " but J 
 have two sisters, one older than I am, 
 and one as large as she is," pointing to 
 Butterfly. 
 
Lake Ontario. 71 
 
 "And your home is in Montreal?" 
 asked Guy. " Then you are a subject of 
 Queen Victoria." 
 
 " God bless the Queen !" said Hal, rais- 
 ing his odd-shaped hat. "Thank fate, 
 yes." 
 
 Guy wanted to say he did not think be- 
 ing a subject of a monarch was much to 
 be thankful for, but he had been too well 
 brought up not to know it is very impolite 
 to express a contrary opinion unless there 
 is a special reason for so doing; so he 
 looked with some curiosity at a boy who 
 was a subject, having in his wise little 
 head no idea that he, Guy "Harrington, 
 was other than a free man. 
 
 "If you have never been through the 
 lake and the St. Lawrence," went on Hal, 
 without thought that he was exciting 
 
72 Trip to Montreal, 
 
 Guy's pity, " you have a treat before you ; 
 and if," added the boy, modestly, "you 
 will take me for a guide-book" 
 
 Guy remembered how many times he 
 had been Butterfly's guide-book, and how 
 pleasant he had found it ; so he said, 
 generously : 
 
 " There couldn't be anything we should 
 prefer. I do so love printed letters com- 
 ing out of the mouth, instead of off from 
 the white paper." By which speech, I 
 suppose, Guy meant to say he had rather 
 be taught orally than in any other way. 
 
 " There is a little girl, as big as you 
 are," looking at Butterfly. " She is a nice 
 child," said Hal. " Her parents live in the 
 same street where we do, in Montreal. 
 Her father is Lord John Herbert. I have 
 been talking with her ever since we started 
 
Lake Ontario. 73 
 
 until Niles called me, and said, " Hal, 
 there is a boy you will like to know. Go 
 and get acquainted Avith lnm. If you 
 have no objections, I would like to bring 
 her here." 
 
 " Of course, do by all means. The 
 more the merrier. Butterfly and I are 
 always making new friends. There were 
 the Nelsons at Niagara, and Bertie. Ned 
 was a good fellow, but I liked Bertie 
 rather the best, and we are to go to school 
 together this whiter." 
 
 "Whbis Butterfly?" asked Hal, with- 
 out taking any notice of Guy's list of ac- 
 quaintances. 
 
 " Why, this is Butterfly," pointing to the 
 child. 
 
 "Keally and truly?" 
 
 " We all call her so," 
 
74 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 "My true name," said Butterfly, "is 
 Ellen Courtland, but it's Butterfly too." 
 
 " Oh, I understand. That is your pet 
 name." 
 
 Butterfly nodded assent, but could not 
 help wondering, the name sounded so 
 familiar to her, why it should strike others 
 as being strange. 
 
 " That little girl's name," continued 
 Hal, motioning towards the child he had 
 left, " is Margaret. I like the name, don't 
 you?" 
 
 " I like Maggie, or Meg," said Guy. 
 
 "But that would never do." And the 
 color came into Hal's face. " They never 
 say so." 
 
 " Why not ? Don't they love her ?" 
 
 " O yes, very much. Bat — but " — hesi- 
 tating, " we don't do so in Montreal," 
 
Lake Ontario. 75 
 
 " Don't you ?" said Guy. " Then I am 
 glad I live in New York, for I like nick- 
 names. Mine is so short. No one can 
 say anything else. Now, if it had been 
 Nebuchadnezzar or Demosthenes "■ 
 
 "Or Belshazzar, or" said Hal. 
 
 " Or," interrupted Guy, not very politely, 
 " * By the help of God I have leaped over a 
 wall.' My father says, in good old Puritan 
 times, a boy was baptized by that name. 
 At least so some of the histories say." 
 
 The children all laughed, and then Hal 
 went to call Margaret, who was sitting 
 very demurely watching them from an- 
 other part of the boat. 
 
 After a few minutes' conversation with an 
 elderly lady under whose care the child 
 seemed to be, he returned with her, and 
 Guy politely gave her a seat near Butterfly. 
 
76 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 There is nothing very formal in chil- 
 dren's introductions. Not a half hour had 
 passed since these met for the first time, 
 and I am quite sure any one looking on 
 and listening would have supposed they 
 had been acquainted all their lives. 
 
 Margaret was a good specimen of a 
 nice English child. Buddy, and with 
 beautiful rounded form, every movement 
 •was full of ease and grace. Strong and 
 perfectly healthy, her complexion looked 
 almost like a painting ; and as for her eyes 
 and mouth, as Guy sat by her, seeing how 
 they both smiled, and how much sweet- 
 ness there was in them, for the first time 
 since he had known Butterfly he thought 
 there could be in the world somebody else 
 almost as beautiful. 
 
 This little girl was, like Hal, dressed in 
 
Lake Ontario. 77 
 
 a way which seemed peculiar to these 
 American children. But of course it was 
 only the more pleasing to them. 
 
 Margaret was dressed in a suit of thick 
 brown stuff, with a large flat brown hat, 
 and two long drooping brown feathers. 
 Her gloves and boots were of precisely 
 the same shade, and so was the ribbon 
 which tied the ends of her braided hair. 
 
 Butterfly had often heard fairies called 
 'Brownies,' and her first thought when 
 she saw this child was that she must be- 
 long to this favorite class of her many 
 dear friends. But there w T as too much of 
 the little human child in the way Margaret 
 entered into all they said or did for this 
 fancy to stay long ; so before the boat had 
 passed many miles, her hand somehow 
 found its way into the loving clasp of the 
 
78 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 English girl's, and she was sure they 
 would be warm friends very soon. 
 
 I must say, in the pleasiu-e of being to- 
 gether, they forgot the lake and the things 
 that were to be seen ; for the boat had 
 gone past several points of interest before 
 Hal remembered he was the guide-book. 
 Even then he was recalled to it by hear- 
 ing some one near him say, " There is a 
 light-house." 
 
 " Plenty of light-houses here and on the 
 St. Lawrence," said Hal, " and not much 
 more here. You see, the seeing is to be 
 done after we reach that famous river. 
 Sailing through Lake Ontario is like going 
 to sea, only you know you are not on the 
 ocean, for the lake is quiet as now, unless 
 a storm comes, and then, if it does, as I 
 have told you before, look out." 
 
Lake Ontario. 79 
 
 " Where ?" said Butterfly, looking round 
 in every direction, and seeing nothing but 
 here and there a distant white sail. 
 
 " Oh, I didn't mean look out and see. 
 Only if you went rolling about here, 
 there, and everywhere, as I have done on 
 board, you have to look out sharp where 
 you put your feet." 
 
 " My grandmother was wrecked here 
 once," said Margaret. 
 
 "Wrecked? How nice!" said Hal. 
 " Please tell us all about it." 
 
 "She will. Let us go and ask her," 
 said Margaret. And then the children 
 all ran across the boat to the old lady 
 with whom Margaret was sitting when 
 Hal called her to join them. 
 
 " Grandmamma, we want to hear 
 about your shipwreck," said Margaret, 
 
80 Trip to Montreal 
 
 as the children gathered close around 
 her. 
 
 " And these are your little friends — 
 Americans, I presume," the old lady said, 
 holding out one hand to Guy and one 
 to Butterfly. " How do you do, my dears ? 
 Would you like to hear my story ?" 
 
 Such a kind, beautiful smile came over 
 the sweet old face, that Butterfly at once 
 put both her hands into the one extended 
 towards her ; and then, not contented, she 
 lifted it to her mouth and softly kissed it. 
 
 The lady smiled again, and, drawing- 
 Butterfly close, also kissed her round, red 
 cheek. 
 
 " I am glad my Margaret has found a 
 playmate," she said. " She loves com- 
 pany, and I am always happy when the 
 dear child is." 
 
Lake Ontario. 81 
 
 Margaret took the hand which Guy had 
 dropped, looking very lovingly in her 
 grandmother's face, as she said this. 
 
 " Two little girls only, now," said the 
 old lady. " Once I had four. I was 
 going to see one of them, though she was 
 a woman and not a little girl then, when 
 I was shipwrecked. " 
 
 " Do tell us all about it, Lady Herbert," 
 said Hal. 
 
 " I was going to Toronto, to see my 
 daughter, Mrs. Somers, as I have already 
 told you," began the old lady. " We had 
 a dark, cloudy afternoon, the wind groan- 
 ing through the ship's rigging, and the 
 waves rising higher and higher every 
 hour. Our captain was used to the lake, 
 and did not feel any alarm. He said we 
 
 should have a rough blow, and it would 
 6 
 
82 Trip to Montreal 
 
 make those who were not used to the sea 
 pretty sick ; but the vessel was new 
 strong, and well-manned. So, when it 
 came time to go to bed, he ordered us all 
 down into the cabin, and said he would 
 put out the lights, as there was danger of 
 fire, the ship rolled so. 
 
 " Margaret's mother was with me. She 
 was then about as old and as large as 
 Margaret is now, and we came down the 
 little steep stairs of the ship into the 
 cabin, holding on to everything we could 
 find to help us. Margaret was pitched 
 over and knocked about in a way that 
 would have hurt her at any other time, 
 but she didn't mind it then. She saw I 
 was alarmed, and so she tried to comfort 
 me. 
 
 " ' Mother,' she said, ' Jesus can be on 
 
Lake Ontario. 83 
 
 these waters as well as on those of the 
 Sea of Galilee, can he not ?' 
 
 " ' Certainly, Margaret.' 
 
 "'And isn't he?' 
 
 " ' Yes.' 
 
 a t 
 
 Then don't let us be afraid. He 
 
 will take good care of us, if we ask him 
 to.' 
 
 ''Now, children," said Grandmother 
 Herbert, stopping and looking around, " I 
 want to tell you how much those few 
 words, comforted me. I thought Jesus 
 must be very near, if my little daughter 
 could feel so trustful and quiet, and I 
 asked our Saviour to walk on the stormy 
 waters that night, and to save us, lest we 
 perish. Then we went into our berths, 
 and after lying still some time, Margaret 
 put her head down (she was in the upper 
 
84 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 berth), and said, ' Mother, is Jesus here 
 still ?' and I said, ' Yes, my child.' 
 
 " Then the wind rose, and the waves 
 broke against the sides of the ship as if 
 great hands were striking it with a 
 giant hammer. There were other pas- 
 sengers on board — I think fifteen besides 
 ourselves — and we were all fastened 
 down into this dark little cabin together. 
 It was like a tomb, children, and it 
 seemed to grow darker and darker as 
 the storm increased. None of the 
 passengers went into their berths but 
 Margaret and I. They were all over the 
 floor, sometimes on one side of the ship 
 and sometimes on the other, as the waves 
 rolled them about. Very few words 
 were spoken. Now and then we heard 
 a groan or perhaps a short prayer; 
 
Lake Ontario. 85 
 
 or, I am very sorry to say, a dreadful 
 oath, wrung out from a man more used 
 to swearing than praying in his hour of 
 mortal peril. 
 
 " It so happened that, when Margaret 
 asked me about Jesus, there was a lull in 
 the storm, and the vessel was still. I did 
 not know any one heard her or my answer, 
 until all was over. 
 
 " ' Then, mother,' she added, ' I need 
 not be afraid.' 
 
 " ' No, my darling,' I said. ' Be not 
 afraid : it is I.' 
 
 " ' Is that what Jesus said ?' 
 
 " ' Yes.' 
 
 " Then we were all still, and then 
 again came a rush of wind and wave, and 
 my little girl asked once more : 
 
 '"Mother, is Jesus here still? He 
 
86 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 won't be frightened away, and leave us, 
 will lie ?' 
 
 '"He is here, darling. Nothing can 
 separate us from him.' 
 
 " ' Yes, mother.' 
 
 " ' Amen !' said a man's deep voice 
 from somewhere out of the darkness. 
 ' Little girl, I thank you.' 
 
 "I never knew how many hours we 
 spent there. It was so dark in the cabin 
 that nor.e of us saw the day dawn ; but 
 there came a crash — an awful crash — and 
 in the stiilness that followed I heard once 
 more : 
 
 " ' Has Jesus gone, mother ?' 
 
 " ' >Tc, my darling, no. He is nearer 
 thpn eve? now. Take fast hold of his 
 
 fi ' 7 Pes, mother, Let me take yours 
 
Lake Ontario. 87 
 
 too.' So, as I tried to find her in the 
 dark, the dead-light was raised, and the 
 day came streaming down into our 
 darkness. 
 
 " ' The ship must be cleared,' said a 
 strong, steady voice, speaking through 
 the open door. ' Plenty of time to save 
 you all, if you will come up quietly and 
 orderly. No fainting nor screaming, now. 
 Let the women come first. Order, there ! 
 Steady, now.' 
 
 " Something in the quiet of the voice 
 told upon us all. We went up without 
 confusion or noise, and were lowered, one 
 by one, into the long-boats, which were 
 already on the water. 
 
 " The waves were still high. Our boat 
 rocked about so unsteadily that no one 
 (iared to go down into it, 
 
88 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 " ' Is Jesus there ?' asked my little girl 
 
 " ' Yes, darling.' 
 
 " ' Then I am not afraid.' And my 
 Margaret threw herself into a sailor's 
 arms who was waiting for her, and was 
 the first one to be safely put into the 
 unsteady boat." 
 
 " That was my mother," said Margaret 
 looking proudly round upon the listening 
 group. 
 
 " Then I followed, and the other 
 passengers one by one, until the boat was 
 full. When we had rowed off a short 
 distance from the ship, she rolled over 
 heavily on to her side, and sank slowly. 
 
 " ' That is full two hours before the 
 captain expected it,' said a sailor, as the 
 waves closed over her. 'A better craft 
 
Lake Ontario. 89 
 
 than the Victoria never sailed the sea. 
 Bad hick to the storm !' 
 
 " ' Thank God, we are safe,' said the 
 man at the helm of our boat. ' Bow 
 away there, men. Put her ashore at the 
 nearest point.' 
 
 " So they did ; and even before the news 
 of the wreck reached Toronto, we were 
 there to tell of our escape." 
 
 "Jesus was with you, wasn't he?" said 
 Butterfly. " Oh, I am so glad you were 
 saved !" 
 
 " Jesus never forgets those who trust 
 him," said Grandmamma Herbert, " be 
 they young or old ; and sometimes he 
 puts his words and thoughts of comfort 
 into the mouths of his little children, 
 and they become our teachers and 
 comforters, Children should be very 
 
90 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 pure and good when their Saviour singles 
 them out so to bless and to give a blessing, 
 should they not ?" 
 
 " My mother was," said Margaret 
 again, more fondly than proudly now. 
 
 " There it is !" said Guy, abruptly. The 
 truth is, he liked the story better than the 
 application. Guy was not fond of preach- 
 ing, and now he was glad of the diversion 
 occasioned by the sounding of the dinner- 
 gong. 
 
 "Now for a rush!" he said. "Come, 
 Butterfly. I peeped in, and the cabin is 
 so small it will be a perfect jam. Hurry, 
 and we will go for our friends." 
 
V. 
 
 A NIGHT IN THE BOAT. 
 
 BUTTERFLY had never taken a 
 meal on board a boat before, and 
 she was therefore very much 
 amused and interested in everything she 
 saw. The crowding and pushing of 
 the passengers rushing from the deck 
 in order to insure the best seats and the 
 best of everything, the marked dis- 
 tinction which appeared at once between 
 those who were ladies and gentlemen 
 and those who were not, struck her with 
 surprise, child as she was, and perhaps 
 gave her a better lesson on the importance 
 
 (91) 
 
92 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 of early acquiring good manners than she 
 could have learned from any other source. 
 
 Guy had gone into the cabin before the 
 rest of the party, and, Avhen Butterfly 
 came down, she saw a row of five chairs 
 turned against the table, Guy walking- 
 back and forth behind them, as if he was 
 keeping guard. 
 
 As soon as he saw the ladies, Guy be- 
 gan to turn back the chairs, and motioned 
 to them, so they went to the part of the 
 table where he was, and he said to 
 Butterfly : 
 
 "Sit next to me, do." 
 
 Butterfly was so intent on looking that 
 it was as much as she could do to seat 
 herself in any way. She took half of 
 Aunt Bessie's chair, who was on one side 
 of her, and then half of Guy's when she 
 
A Night in the Boat. 93 
 
 tried to move out of it, until Guy laughed 
 and she thought what she was doing. 
 
 " O dear, Aunt Bessie !" she said, " I 
 should think it had dropped right clown 
 out of the fairies' palace." 
 
 " What ?" asked Auut Bessie, smiling. 
 
 " Why, everything. Do see : there are 
 peaches, and pears, and grapes, and 
 apples, and, how funny, all those little 
 white fans perched up in the goblets, like 
 big white moths." 
 
 " Those are the napkins." 
 
 "I know it. How droll! And, why, 
 there is candy ! Guy, Guy, there really 
 and truly is candy /" 
 
 " Didn't you ever see any before ?" 
 asked Guy, much amused. 
 
 " Not for dinner ; and there is a big, 
 bouncing watermelon. Well, I guess I 
 
94 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 am very hungry," said Butterfly, subsiding 
 at once, and becoming very quiet. 
 
 " So am I. I could eat — oh, there is 
 Hal ! I wish he was here. See, he has 
 dressed for dinner, and so has his tutor. 
 I like Mr. Niles, don't you ? If it wasn't 
 for Bertie, I would ask my father to let 
 me have a tutor, and I wouldn't go to 
 school, but I must now. There he is 
 coming. I'll crowd a seat next to me. 
 No, that isn't necessary. Mr. Niles has 
 paid the waiter, and is pointing here. 
 Now you will see him walk in without any 
 trouble." 
 
 " Paid !" said Butterfly. " What for ?" 
 " Why, for a seat, don't you know ?" 
 Butterfly was too much taken up looking 
 for Hal to answer. She could hardly 
 understand the way in which the waiter 
 
A Night in the Boat. 95 
 
 moved the elderly lady and gentleman 
 from the place they had already occupied, 
 putting Hal and his tutor into it, as if it 
 was theirs by right. 
 
 " I am glad you have come," said Guy, 
 cordially. " Sit here all the time, won't 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes," said Hal. " Let us be firm 
 friends and true to the journey's end." 
 
 Then the boys held each other's hand a 
 few minutes, sealing the bond, much to 
 Aunt Bessie's amusement. 
 
 Such a clatter of dishes tumbling over 
 the table, calling to waiters, taking every- 
 thing within hand-reach, and pushing with 
 spoons to take hold of those dishes that 
 were not ! Such confusion and bad 
 manners Butterfly had never seen before. 
 I think she must have gone away from the 
 
96 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 table as hungry as she came, for she 
 was too busy looking to eat. 
 
 Margaret was not at this table ; and as 
 Butterfly with her party went back to the 
 deck after the dinner was over, she saw 
 her, with her grandmother and a few 
 others, seated at a small table in a part 
 of the saloon which was curtained off 
 from the rest. 
 
 " That is because her father is Lord 
 John, I suppose," whispered Guy, follow- 
 ing the direction of Butterfly's eyes. " She 
 is too good to eat with common people." 
 
 " I think she is," said Butterfly, simply. 
 "I love her dearly, don't you?" 
 
 " It will do for girls to love every pretty 
 face they see, dearly," said Guy, with 
 what he thought was a manly shrug of 
 his shoulders ; " but it won't for us boys." 
 
A Night in the Boat. 97 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Oh, because it won't," answered lie, 
 conclusively. " That isn't our style." 
 
 Now, Butterfly had only a very vague 
 idea of what Guy meant, and it was just 
 as well, for probably that was all Guy had 
 himself ; and as for its making any 
 impression upon her that Margaret was 
 or felt herself to be better than others 
 because she was a lord's daughter, 
 Butterfly was so truly a little American 
 girl that I doubt whether she even knew 
 what a lord was. 
 
 Dinner was at three o'clock, so that 
 after dinner the afternoon seemed to the 
 children well spent. The steamboat was 
 now at a distance from land, speeding 
 away over the still blue waters as fast as 
 
98 Trip to Montreal 
 
 steam could carry her ; and as there was 
 very little to see, they went together into 
 a quiet part of the deck, and began to 
 divert themselves by that never-ending 
 amusement, story-telling. Now and then 
 Hal would call out that there was a town 
 on the shore, and occasionally a boat, a 
 schooner, or a ship went drifting by them ; 
 but their main occupation was with their 
 stories, until the day faded away and 
 night came on, 
 
 All through the day Butterfly had 
 singled out from among the passengers 
 two who interested her. One was a pale, 
 sickly-looking young lady, almost half of 
 whose face seemed to her to consist in 
 large brown eyes. And the other was a 
 German, resembling, she thought, her 
 German friend who had travelled with 
 
A Night in the Boat. 99 
 
 her from Lake George and then given her 
 the ticket to the concert. The German on 
 board the boat to-day had no violin, but 
 Butterfly felt sure she heard him humming 
 tunes. The lady, too, would break out 
 into a line of a song, and then, as if 
 suddenly recollecting where she was, 
 would check herself. 
 
 When it became too dark on deck to 
 see anything but the sky thick with stars 
 overhead, and a long, dark expanse which 
 Butterfly knew must be water around 
 them, the children went down into the 
 brilliantly lighted saloon. The first thing 
 Butterfly heard was music, and the first 
 thing she saw was the German sitting at 
 the piano playing, and the lady standing 
 by his side singing. 
 
 " I knew," she said, turning and putting 
 
100 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 her arm around Margaret's neck, " some- 
 thing beautiful was coming. I've been 
 looking and looking at them all day, and 
 here it is. Where is Aunt Bessie? O 
 dear, where is Aunt Matilda? Guy, run 
 for your mother ; and Hal, you bring Mr. 
 Niles ; and Margaret, bring your grand- 
 mother ; and then I guess we shall be all 
 fixed. We are going to have a real, live, 
 true concert, without any tickets either !" 
 
 Concerts were not so much of a rarity 
 to the other children as they were to But- 
 terfly, so Guy said : 
 
 " Oh, they will come if they fancy. If 
 these people are going to play a very 
 lively tune, I should like it, or if they 
 sing a merry song ; but if it is what they 
 call classical music, such as those Germans 
 usually play, I wouldn't give a fig for it." 
 
A Night in the Boat. 101 
 
 It was what Guy rather contemptuously 
 called " classical music," so, after listening 
 a little while, till her friends had joined 
 another party of children in a distant 
 part of the saloon, Butterfly went to 
 see what was going on. She found 
 them engaged in a play that was en- 
 tirely new to her, so she sat by watch- 
 ing, no one, not even Guy, taking any 
 notice of her, until her eyelids began to 
 grow very heavy. 
 
 If you had told her she was sleepy, I 
 think she would have indignantly denied 
 it, but she put her head down on a marble 
 table, and — well, I don't know as she 
 would like to have me tell tales, but I am 
 quite sure she did not for the next half 
 hour get any very intelligent idea of the 
 game. The first thing of which she was 
 
102 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 conscious was Gay's pulling one of her 
 curls, and saying : 
 
 " Hullo, Butterfly, come on now, we 
 want you !" 
 
 " We want you ! O yes — dear me- 
 yes — Aunt Bessie — no. "Who is it, Guy ? 
 What?" 
 
 " I do declare, I believe you have been 
 asleep," said Guy. 
 
 " Asleep !" And Butterfly slid down 
 on her feet in a minute, rubbing her eyes 
 violently. " I haven't been asleep, Guy 
 Harrington. You ought to be ashamed of 
 yourself." And only half awake now, 
 Butterfly felt the tears coming into her 
 eyes, and began to wipe them away as 
 fast as she could. 
 
 Guy looked at her in much amazement. 
 During all the time they had been to- 
 
A Night in the Boat. 103 
 
 gether, lie had never seen her cry or heard 
 a fretful word from her before. 
 
 " I'm sorry," he said, in a very puzzled 
 way. 
 
 But the tears had washed all the sleep 
 away, and almost before the words were out 
 of her mouth Butterfly was herself again. 
 
 " I don't want you to be sorry," she 
 said. " I guess I was cross ; I am some- 
 times. Now I am ready. What is it ?" 
 And really refreshed by her nap, Butterfly 
 entered into the amusements more heartily 
 than any of the other children for the re- 
 mainder of a long evening ; and when, 
 quite late for a little miss who was used to 
 early hours, Aunt Bessie came to say it 
 was time to go to bed, Butterfly could 
 hardly believe it was, as she said, nearly 
 ten o'clock, 
 
104 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 The musicians were still playing, and 
 though many of the groups in the saloon 
 had disappeared, yet enough remained to 
 make the scene gay and cheerful. I do 
 not know but Butterfly would have been 
 willing to sit up all night if she could, and 
 if Aunt Bessie would have kept her com- 
 pany, but her aunt led the way directly to 
 the state-room, having first taken up a bit 
 of a tin candlestick, with the half of a tal- 
 low candle in it. This she lighted with a 
 match when she weift into the room ; and 
 the first thing Butterfly did was to sit down 
 and laugh at the funny shadows it made 
 on the wall. Just one bit of a tallow can- 
 dle was a new light for her to use, and 
 perhaps things looked a little droller than 
 they really were. 
 
 " Now, Aunt Bessie," said Butterfly, after 
 
A Night in the Boat. 105 
 
 a few minutes' silence, " we must have our 
 Saturday's review, you know, and this is 
 the nicest place to have it in I ever saw. 
 I thought it was cunning before I went on 
 deck, and I think it is a great deal cun- 
 ninger now. I shall sleep as sound as two 
 tops, you see if I don't ; and I want to tell 
 you all about Margaret's mother. O dear ! 
 what if there should be a storm" — this 
 was the first time Butterfly had thought of 
 the possibility — " and it should make the 
 waters rise and the winds blow, and they 
 should lock us all down in a dark room, 
 dark as pitch ? I wonder if there would 
 be any little girl to ask, ' Is Jesus here, 
 mother?' and then the mother would say 
 so pretty, ' Yes, darling.' " 
 
 "What is my Butterfly talking about?" 
 said Aunt Bessie, looking at her, 
 
106 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 " Oli ! I forgot. Margaret's grandmam- 
 ma told us a beautiful story about being 
 wrecked on this very lake ; and how her 
 little girl kept comforting everybody by 
 telling them about Jesus, and how a man's 
 voice out of the great darkness said ' Amen.' 
 I should have been frightened almost to 
 death ; but she went first into the boat, not 
 a bit frightened, because she thought Jesus 
 was there too ; and then the ship went 
 down, and the water went over it, and 
 Jesus was in the boat, so they all got safe 
 to land." 
 
 " That was Margaret's mother and 
 grandmother?" asked Aunt Bessie, much 
 interested. 
 
 " Yes, it is true, too," Butterfly said. " I 
 like the true stories best. I had better 
 undress me, and say my prayers as fast as 
 
A Night in the Boat. 107 
 
 I can, Aunt Bessie, so to be all ready if 
 a storm should come ; but I guess there 
 won't, don't you ?" 
 
 " There is every prospect of a beautiful 
 night," said Aunt Bessie. " But, darling, 
 it is always best to commit ourselves 
 to the care of a loving Saviour's arms, 
 to feel we can go to sleep in them quietly, 
 as you do so often in mine." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said Butterfly, reverently. 
 " I think Margaret did, that is, the one 
 that was little Margaret then. Now I'll 
 say my prayers. 
 
 Whether Butterfly, touched by the sim- 
 ple story she had heard, showing her how 
 beautiful the trust of even a little child 
 can be in her Saviour, determined to offer 
 an unusually long and fervent prayer that 
 ni^ht, or whether she was so tired that 
 
108 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 closing her eyes even for a moment over- 
 came her, I cannot tell ; but I know that, 
 after waiting in stillness for some time, 
 Aunt Bessie looked around to the spot 
 where Butterfly knelt, and found her, with 
 her head in her little folded hands, sound 
 asleep. 
 
VI, 
 
 THE WOLF STOEY. 
 
 UNT BESSIE was wakened the 
 next morning by a merry laugh 
 close at her ears, and, opening 
 her eyes, she saw Butterfly, with her head 
 hanging over the side of her berth, hold- 
 ing on by both hands. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Bessie !" she said, the mo- 
 ment she saw her aunt's eyes were open- 
 ed, " this is so funny. Dear me, I thought 
 I was at Frostland, up in my room, and 
 when I opened my eyes, here I was — such 
 a bit of a place. And I've slept splendid- 
 ly ; and I want to hop up and dress me 
 
 (109) 
 
110 Trip to Montreal 
 
 just as quick as I can. I dare say we've 
 been and gone through those thousand 
 isles while I was sound asleep ; and " 
 — -one little pink foot coming over the side 
 of the berth — " I " — swinging down half 
 over — " want " — landing on the floor, for- 
 getting she was at sea, and getting a roll 
 to the opposite side of the state-room. 
 
 " To pick yourself up," said Aunt Bes- 
 sie, laughing, and finishing the sen- 
 tence. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am." And Butterfly scram- 
 bled on to her feet in a moment, coming 
 with a lurch up against Aunt Bessie's 
 berth, who, putting out both arms, held 
 her fast. 
 
 " I think," said Aunt Bessie, " the wind 
 must have freshened during the night, or 
 we were Hist stopping." 
 
The Wolf Story. Ill 
 
 At this moment the steam-whistle sound- 
 ed, and she added : 
 
 " Yes, that was it : we were stopping." 
 
 "This Montreal?" asked Butterfly. 
 "Past the thousand isles and all?" 
 
 " Probably not in the St. Lawrence yet, 
 so hurry and dress, for Gay is an early 
 bird, you know. I dare say you will open 
 the door and find him in the saloon wait- 
 ing for you." 
 
 Butterfly hardly needed this prompting, 
 but it would have been difficult to say 
 which moved the fastest, her fingers or her 
 tongue, as she dressed. 
 
 " I should like, Aunt Bessie, to read a 
 chapter in the Bible, this morning, out of 
 my common course. I don't think mother 
 would mind it just for this once, if I read 
 
112 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 about Jesus on the water instead of read- 
 ing with them at home. Do you?" 
 
 " No, I think she would be pleased to 
 have her little girl associate Jesus with 
 the water. Let us look at the chapter to- 
 gether. Do you know where to find it ?" 
 
 " I know the story all about Peter and 
 the other disciples out in the storm, but I 
 guess we had better read it. I like Bible 
 stories best. I think it is in Luke some- 
 where, and if you will wait I can find it." 
 
 Aunt Bessie waited very willingly until 
 the toilet was finished, then Butterfly 
 seated herself with her Bible, and after a 
 few minutes said : 
 
 " It is in Luke, eighth chapter, beginning 
 with the twenty-second verse. May I 
 read it aloud?" 
 
 " Do, I should like to hear it." 
 
The Wolf Story. 113 
 
 Then Butterfly read every word of the 
 chapter slowly and carefully, as if she 
 was enjoying it. Then she asked Jesus to 
 be with her all day, not as if she thought 
 he was a distant Saviour who lived away 
 off in the heavens and neither saw nor 
 cared for a little earthly child, but as if he 
 was a near friend who would love and 
 bless her. 
 
 " Now good-by, Aunt Bessie," she said, 
 when at last, ready to go on deck, she 
 came to kiss her. " I am as happy as a 
 queen, and I am going to have the most 
 splendiferous time that ever any child did 
 have ; and I am going to tell Aunt Ma- 
 tilda good-morning, so }^ou won't see me 
 until we get to Montreal." 
 
 "What, not at breakfast-time?" asked 
 Aunt Bessie, kissing her. 
 
114 Trip to Montreal, 
 
 " Oh, breakfast-time ! Are we to have 
 our breakfast here too ? I'll go and hunt 
 up Guy this very minute, and tell him all 
 about it." 
 
 No sooner had Butterfly opened her 
 state-room door into the saloon than Aunt 
 Bessie heard noise enough to assure her 
 a party of children were awaiting Butter- 
 fly's appearance. She could distinguish 
 the voices of Guy and Hal, and, she 
 thought, of Margaret also. 
 
 " She will be happy now," said kind 
 Aunt Bessie, smiling all alone there to 
 herself to think how contented Butterfly 
 would be. 
 
 " Well, if you are not a sleepy-head !" 
 was Guy's first salutation. " Here Hal 
 and I have been waiting twenty minutes 
 by my watch for you. I tell you what, 
 
The Wolf Story. 115 
 
 you would have got a drumming up if I 
 liadn't been afraid of waking your aunt. 
 Margaret has been on deck three times 
 and has come back for you, so, old lady, 
 hurry !" 
 
 " Hurry !" Butterfly felt as if she could 
 fly just as easily as not, if her wings were 
 only of the kind that would bear her up. 
 She skipped along over the saloon and up 
 the stairs so lightly that I think her 
 motion was about as much like flying as 
 it could be, considering she was only a 
 little girl. 
 
 When they came on deck, it was so 
 early in the morning that very few pas- 
 sengers were around. The ship looked 
 long, clean, and empty. Butterfly could 
 hardly believe it was the same place that 
 had been crowded and noisy on the 
 
116 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 night before. Every one they met said 
 "Good-morning" to them so cheerfully 
 that Butterfly could hardly contain her 
 delight. I am not sure, if she could have 
 done as she liked, but she would have 
 stopped and kissed those who spoke. 
 
 " Now," said Guy, taking, as usual, the 
 control of the party, " we are to come, 
 before a great while, into the river St 
 Lawrence." 
 
 "We are in it now," said Hal. "Mr. 
 Mies, as soon as he found I had been 
 dubbed Guide-book, took and crammed 
 me." 
 
 " Crammed you !" said Butterfly, grow- 
 ing suddenly very sober. " What is 
 that?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing that hurt. When he tries 
 to make me "learn a good deal in double 
 
The Wolf Story. 117 
 
 quick, lie calls it ' cramming me.' That is 
 an English phrase, I suppose," looking at 
 Guy. 
 
 " We use it a little, but not much," said 
 Guy. " I suppose it comes from cram- 
 
 " With anything ; and I would not 
 recommend it as a good word for you to 
 copy," said a pleasant voice from behind 
 them. Turning round, they saw Mr. 
 Niles. 
 
 " I think it means just the same, and 
 sounds better, if we should sa}^, ' Gave me 
 all the information he could.' Now, Hal, 
 let us hear to how much purpose the 
 ' cramming ' was. But first look there, 
 children. There is the sun rising. See 
 how differently it looks, coming up out of 
 
118 Trip to Montreal 
 
 its water-bed, from what it does rising be- 
 hind hills or from a long, level plain." 
 
 The children turned in the direction 
 from which the sun was rising. 
 
 There it was with its broad yellow disk 
 just above the water's edge, as if it had 
 been in for a morning bathe, and was 
 dressed in its golden robes to meet the 
 day. All around the little waves " danced 
 up to kiss it," Butterfly said. And I 
 think perhaps they did, for they looked 
 very happy and bright in its rays. 
 
 " There is not a finer sight in this world 
 than a sunrise at sea, my father says," 
 said Guy, " and this is the first I ever saw. 
 I wish my mother was here." Guy 
 always thought of his mother at such 
 times. 
 
 "It is worth any one seeing. Let us 
 
The Wolf Story. 119 
 
 sit clown where we can watch it. We have 
 a great deal to see to-day that we ought 
 never to forget, and this is a fine begin- 
 ning. 
 
 The children all gathered around Mr. 
 Mies, and after a few minutes he said : 
 
 "Hal, there is Kingston, and there 
 also is Wolfs Island." 
 
 " Kingston and Wolf's Island," said Guy, 
 getting up and looking about him as if he 
 had been watching for them all the time. 
 "What is it called Wolfs Island for? 
 Now for a story, Butterfly. It is one of, 
 the Thousand Islands." 
 
 " Yes, and I think it is one of the 
 largest. By the way, to begin with, there 
 are more than the famous one thousand 
 islands. There are eighteen hundred, of 
 all si?es and shapes, from a few yards 
 
120 Trip to Montreal 
 
 square to miles in length ; and if you like 
 
 stories, there is one, or one can be easily 
 
 made, for every island of the eighteen 
 
 hundred. 
 
 . "O Butterfly!" said Guy, his whole 
 
 face lighting up with delight, "won't it 
 
 be jolly ?" 
 
 Butterfly gave her head such a number 
 of assenting shakes that her curls flew 
 about as if a lively kitten was in among 
 them playing. Then she said, " Splendid !" 
 and then Hal and Margaret smiled, as. if 
 they thought her use of the word was a 
 very funny one. 
 
 "Well now, about Wolf's Island?" 
 asked Gu} 7 . 
 
 "First, of Kingston," said Mr. Niles, 
 looking at Hal. 
 
 "Yes, information first, amusement 
 
The Wolf Story. 121 
 
 afterwards. That is what my father says, 
 sir," said Gay. " I like them both, and 
 pretty well mixed." 
 
 " Kingston used to have a queer Indian 
 name," Hal began. " I shouldn't like to 
 try to pronounce it, so I will spell it for 
 you, and you can call it anything you 
 please. C-a-t-a-r-a-c-q-u-i. The French 
 once owned it — that was when they 
 owned Canada — and here they built a 
 fort. Then the French and the Indians 
 used to try and see who should own it. 
 Sometimes one did, and sometimes the 
 other ; but by-and-by it fell into the hands 
 of the English, and then, of course, there 
 was no more question to whom it should 
 belong." said Hal, drawing himself up, 
 proudly. 
 
 Guy saw the feeling in a moment, so he 
 
122 Trip to Montreal 
 
 said quietly : " There wouldn't have been 
 if America had taken it. You changed 
 
 the name from Cata something to 
 
 Kingston, in honor of your king, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 " Yes, and now it is one of the most im- 
 portant military posts in Canada." 
 
 " I understand. Quite a little city, is it 
 not ?" And Guy, accustomed to crowded 
 New York, looked upon it, as he said, as a 
 very little place. " Now for the wolf story." 
 
 A look passed between Hal and his 
 tutor, which Guy noticed. And then Hal 
 began : 
 
 "That island, you see, is long and 
 narrow. Well, about half way down 
 you will find an odd house. It was 
 built a hundred years ago, I think, and 
 there once lived a Frenchman, whose 
 
The Wolf Story. 123 
 
 name was Edward La True. O no !" 
 said Hal, stopping a moment. " He lived 
 on another island. Here lived an Indian 
 family, belonging to the tribe that once 
 owned Cataracqivi. There was the father, 
 who was a famous hunter." 
 
 " That's good," said Guv, approvingly. 
 
 " And the mother, who did all the work, 
 and supported the family besides by sell- 
 ing trinkets." 
 
 " That's bad," said Guy. 
 
 " And four pickaninnies." 
 
 "What are those?" asked Margaret. 
 
 " Children, of course. Pickaninny is 
 an Indian name for a child. The family 
 lived all alone on this island. And it was 
 so full of game of all kinds that, if the fa- 
 ther had been willing to take a little 
 pains, he might have gotten together 
 
124 Trip to Montreal 
 
 more than they could live on, without the 
 least trouble." 
 
 " Lazy fellow," said Guy. 
 
 " But he used to trade off what game he 
 took for liquor, and come home beastly 
 drunk, to abuse his wife and children." 
 
 " He should have joined a temperance 
 society," said Guy. 
 
 "He didn't. He looked like a prince 
 when he was sober ; and he felt like one 
 when he was not, that is, he ordered 
 his wife and children about, as if he 
 was a world better than they were, and 
 sometimes they had a very hard time of 
 it. One day he came home, and told his 
 wife to send Big Eye — that was his eldest 
 boy — off to a distant part of the island, 
 for some game he had killed and was too 
 lazy to bring home." 
 
The Wolf Story. ' 125 
 
 " Did lie go ?" asked Guy. 
 
 " O yes ! He went, and tliey waited 
 and waited and waited; but he didn't come 
 back. His father was hungry and very 
 cross, so when the sun began to go down, 
 and there was no Big Eye, he looked 
 scowling enough, took up his bow and ar- 
 row, and without saying a word went out. 
 
 He was gone all night ; and when the day 
 broke, there was the mother sitting on the 
 ground, looking out in one direction, just 
 as she had been doing since dark; for 
 soon after Big Eye's father went away, 
 she heard a sound which she knew very 
 well was the cry of a wolf near by." 
 
 " What did it sound like ?" asked But- 
 terfly, coming closer to Hal. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. I have never heard 
 one. It was between a lion's roar, a tiger's 
 
126 Trip to Montreal 
 
 growl, and a hyena's call, I imagine. 
 Something dreadful, at any rate. Now, 
 she knew the wolves on the island were 
 very large and fierce, and she had heard 
 her husband say often that he thought a 
 child would be in great danger from them, 
 they were so wily and determined. She 
 was afraid Big Eye had been eaten by one, 
 and his father was in danger from the same. 
 As soon as she could see, she took down a 
 bow and a quiver of arrows, and off she 
 started to help them. The island, as you 
 see, is a very large one, but she knew 
 where the trails were which they would 
 be likely to follow, so away she went, as 
 
 brave as a " 
 
 " There is some one wants you, Guy." 
 "It's my mother," said Guy, and went 
 at once, in the midst of the wolf story. 
 
VII. 
 
 THE ST. LAWRENCE. 
 
 TJY'S mother said to him, as soon 
 as they were in another part of 
 the boat : 
 
 " Guy, I am sorry to call you away ; 
 but there is an old lady here in trouble 
 about some lost luggage. I thought you 
 might help her by looking it up." 
 
 " Hal was telling me a first-rate wolf 
 story," said Guy, annoyed when he heard 
 for what he was wanted. "Wouldn't it 
 do as well by-and-by ?" 
 
 " I think not. She has mislaid a bas- 
 ket, and I presume, from her anxiety, it 
 
 (127) 
 
128 Trip to Montreal 
 
 contains something she would be sorry to 
 lose." 
 
 " O dear ! mother, am I the only boy 
 in the world, that I must do every old wo- 
 man's running that comes in your way ?" 
 
 " You are my only boy," said Guy's 
 mother, looking kindly in his troubled 
 face ; " but if it is so very irksome to you 
 to do a kind thing, I will call one of the 
 waiters." 
 
 "It isn't that, mother," said Guy, in- 
 stantly ashamed of his pettislmess, " and 
 I am sorry for being so impolite as to call 
 her an old woman. I will go at once ; 
 but I do wish I had heard the end of 
 Hal's story. The mother was just off 
 with her bow and arrow for the wolf, that 
 was growling and eating up her husband 
 .rid son at the same time. The old fellow 
 
The St. Lawrence. 129 
 
 was selfish, and I don't much care for 
 him ; but I dare say Big Eye was a 
 nice fellow." 
 
 By this time they had reached the per- 
 son who had lost her basket, and Guy 
 was quite himself again ; but the old lady ! 
 Guy felt as if she ivas an old woman, 
 without any of the lady, as he looked at 
 her. 
 
 She was large, with great, coarse fea- 
 tures, a mottled complexion, and eyes so 
 small and nearly shut up by her fat 
 cheeks that all Guy could think of, when 
 he first saw her, was of a muskmeloo, 
 with eyes set in its ridges. 
 
 As soon as she saw him, she said, and 
 her voice was loud and disagreeable : 
 
 " That is the little chap, is it ? Well, he 
 isn't much more than knee high to a toad ; 
 
130 Trip to Montreal 
 
 but if he lias got eyes in his head, perhaps 
 he'll do." 
 
 Guy felt the color mount over his face, 
 and knew the hot temper that was flash- 
 ing through his veins had shown itself 
 there. 
 
 " ' Knee high to a toad, and got eyes in 
 his head !' A pretty way to receive a 
 favor !" he said to himself. 
 
 If Guy's mother had not just then laid 
 her hand gently on his shoulder, I think 
 he would have turned, and without another 
 word gone back to his story ; but gentle as 
 the touch was, it quieted him at once, and 
 he said, with a self-control for which his 
 mother gave him great credit : 
 
 " I am not very old ; but if there is any- 
 thing I can do for you, I shall be happy 
 to do so." 
 
TJie St. Lawrence. 131 
 
 The woman looked at him sharply from 
 out of those little eyes, then said, curtly : 
 
 '■ You'll do. You'll find it, if it is on 
 board, I'll venture you. It's a hand-bas- 
 ket, made by the Indians — blue, and 
 red, and green, one of their brightest 
 ones. I had it made on purpose to know- 
 it from other people's. So the first thing 
 I've done, you see, is to lose it. It holds 
 nearly a half-bushel, and is pretty heavy. 
 It has a large card on it, with my name, 
 Mrs. John Ragort. I'll be much obliged 
 to you if you can restore it to me." 
 
 " I will do my best," said Guy, " but 
 there is a great deal of luggage on board ; 
 and I saw quite a row of these large In- 
 dian baskets. They are so convenient, 
 almost everybody who goes to Niagara 
 purchases one." 
 
132 Trip to Montreal 
 
 " How like liis father !" sad J his mother, 
 watching him with much pride as he went 
 away in the direction of the luggage-room. 
 
 To hunt up lost luggage on board a 
 crowded steamboat is not a very pleasant 
 task. Guy had travelled enough to know 
 he must encounter all kinds of obstacles 
 thrown in his way by every official who 
 had any care on board; and so he did, 
 but at last he was successful, and came 
 back, bringing the very gay basket to its 
 owner. 
 
 " I told you you would find it," she said, 
 by way of thanks. And Guy thought she 
 seemed quite as pleased with the idea of 
 her own prophecy having proved correct 
 as by the return of the basket. At 
 any rate, these were all the thanks he 
 received ; but he heard her say, as he 
 
The St. Lawrence. 133 
 
 walked quickly back to Lis young friends, 
 " That little fellow will make a man, if he 
 ever lives to grow up. He's a mighty 
 sight like my Josiah ; and Josiah owns one 
 of the biggest farms in Illinois to-day, 
 and has about the largest drove of hogs 
 in the State." 
 
 Guy's mother with Aunt Matilda and 
 Aunt Bessie were now on deck, walking 
 up and down, and looking out the different 
 points of interest from a long panoramic 
 guide-book which they had just pur- 
 chased. As Guy passed them, his mother 
 said : 
 
 " I see you have been successful. 
 Thank you, my son !" And then Guy felt 
 more than repaid. 
 
 " She says, mother," he said, pointing 
 carefully back in the direction where the 
 
134 Trip to Montreal 
 
 old lady was, " I'll do. I am like Josiah, 
 who has the largest drove of hogs in the 
 State of Illinois." Then with a merry 
 laugh he joined his young companions. 
 
 " Now, let me hear about Big Eye 
 and the wolf," he said. " I hope you 
 waited for me." 
 
 " No, I did not," answered Hal, " be- 
 cause the story was all gammon. There 
 wasn't a word of truth in it, and Mr. Niles 
 says it was very poor at that." 
 
 " You are a most reliable guide," said 
 Guy, laughing. 
 
 " But there was an end," said Butterfly, 
 " if it wasn't true. The mother shot the 
 wolf ; and then she found Big Eye hid- 
 den under a big rock — Hal pointed it out 
 to us as we sailed by — so frightened 
 that he hadn't dared to move, hardly to 
 
The St. Lawrence. 135 
 
 breathe, lest the wolf should find out he 
 was there and eat him. He was so glad 
 when he heard the arrow go whir, whir, 
 through the air, and saw the wolf fall 
 dead." 
 
 " And the father," said Guy, " the selfish 
 old fellow?" 
 
 " Oh, he was saved too. The wolf had 
 just got one claw on him, and his mouth 
 all open to take a big bite, when whir, 
 whir, went the arrow, and away he went 
 after it." 
 
 " That is all, is it ? Well, that will do 
 for a make-up wolf story. Now, let us 
 hear some true ones about these islands. 
 Oh ! look there. Isn't that a beauty ? 
 See, it is wooded down to the water's 
 edge, and there in the midst is an old 
 pine-tree that must have been struck by 
 
136 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 lightning some day. It looks like the 
 mast of a man-of-war." 
 
 " That is prettiest, though," said But- 
 terfly, pointing to a bit of greensward 
 that looked like an emerald dropped on 
 the smooth top of the water. " Oh ! I do 
 wish the boat would stop just long enough 
 for me to build a baby-house on it." 
 
 " You'll wish so of every pretty island 
 all the way to Montreal," said Guy. 
 
 " Yes," answered Butterfly. 
 
 "And if the boat were to stop; only 
 think what a bother there would be on 
 board," said Hal. 
 
 "Why?" asked Butterfly. 
 
 " Why, do you suppose all these men 
 and women care anything about baby- 
 liouses ?" 
 
 " No," said Butterfly, truthfully. 
 
The St. Lawrence. 137 
 
 " I should like to explore fifty out of the 
 eighteen hundred," said Guy. " Hunt up 
 the animals and the brooks." 
 
 "It's famous hunting and fishing almost 
 anywhere you choose to land," said Hal. 
 " Mr. Niles and I always camp out through 
 the month of September, and w r e never 
 have been twice on the same island. 
 Look there — see that tow T er. That is 
 Martfield Tower." 
 
 "What is it built for?" asked Mar- 
 garet. 
 
 " For some good purpose, you may be 
 sure, for there is the English flag flying 
 from it. It's on Cedar Island — named 
 for its beautiful cedars — and there is a 
 village a little distance from it." 
 
 " And two villages on the American 
 side to one on the English," said Guy, 
 
138 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 good-naturedly, pointing to some clusters 
 of houses near the shore. 
 
 " Is this Lake Ontario now ?" asked 
 Butterfly, suddenly. " I thought the Thou- 
 sand Isles were in the river St. Lawrence. 
 Dear me, how I have it all mixed up ! 
 We were in Niagara river, and then Hal 
 said, ' Here we go into Lake Ontario !' 
 And then I have not heard anybody say, 
 ' Here we go into the river St. Lawrence.' " 
 
 " One would think Butterfly expected 
 some great change," said Guy. " What 
 do you expect?" 
 
 Butterfly hung her head — she would 
 not like to have confessed just what she 
 did, and she couldn't say anything unless 
 it was the truth. Guy was afraid he had 
 hurt her feelings, so he drew his stool a 
 little closer to hers, and whispered ; 
 
The St. Laivrence. 139 
 
 " I didn't mean to." 
 
 " You didn't," answered Butterfly, un- 
 derstanding him at once ; and then she 
 caught sight of a lighthouse just before 
 her, and forgot everything else as she 
 eagerly pointed it out. 
 
 "That?" said Hal, looking in the di- 
 rection of her finger. " Why, that is 
 only a lighthouse. You see, there are so 
 many rocks and so man} r islands." 
 
 " Or the other way," interrupted Guy. 
 
 " Or the other way," repeated Hal, 
 good-naturedly. " There must be some 
 method of warning mariners where the 
 rocks or the islands, with their rock- 
 bound, shelving shores, are ; and the 
 safest, indeed the only way of warning is 
 by these lighthouses." 
 
 "I've seen numbers of them," said 
 
140 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 Margaret, "but the finest one was the 
 Eddystone Lighthouse. We passed that 
 once in a storm." 
 
 " Where is it ?" said Guy. 
 
 " Oh, it is over by the English shore, on 
 the south coast somewhere. This is so 
 small in comparison," pointing to the one 
 they were now passing. 
 
 " This is a little house," said Butterfly, 
 looking at it curiously, " just like a tower, 
 with a belfry and all windows." 
 
 " That is just it," answered Hal ; " and 
 where it is all windows, there they put a 
 big light, which keeps turning about all 
 night, and when the sailors see it turn 
 they say, ' Here is such and such a 
 lighthouse ; and close by it, on the right 
 hand, is a reef of rocks, and north of it 
 lie the five islands, clustered so close 
 
The St. Lawrence. 141 
 
 together that, if we get in among them, 
 there will be no getting out with our 
 bones whole.' " 
 
 " Bones ! Why, I thought you were 
 talking about a ship," said Butterfly. 
 
 " And they speak of the ribs of a ship, 
 don't they, I should just like to know?" 
 said Guy. 
 
 Hal smiled, but went on with his ex- 
 planation. " The government hires people 
 to live in these lighthouses, and take care 
 of the lamp, to see that it never goes out 
 after dark." 
 
 "I should love to live there dearly," 
 said Butterfly, going to the side of the 
 boat nearest the lighthouse and looking 
 out. " Do look ! There is the nicest 
 little garden, with some real, live flowers, 
 
142 Trip to Montreal 
 
 and a dog; and— dear! Guy, there is 
 truly a little girl, too." 
 
 " Let us wave our handkerchiefs at her," 
 said gallant Guy. And away went the 
 four handkerchiefs, fluttering towards the 
 little girl, who, never supposing they were 
 intended for a salute, stood, with her feet 
 Avide apart, staring at them. 
 
 The sail among the Thousand Islands, 
 though at first it seems as if nothing 
 could ever be more delightful, becomes 
 wearisome. Passing through them for 
 once, and once only, it is impossible to 
 distinguish or to remember one from 
 another. They are of all shapes and 
 sizes, as I have said ; but, after all, there 
 must be something besides wood, rock, and 
 land to imprint them on a child's memory 
 so that they shall not be forgotten^ One 
 
the St. Lawrence. 143 
 
 of these groups seemed to Hal particularly 
 worthy of notice for this story, to which, 
 while he was telling it, the children 
 listened with much interest : 
 
 " Once while there was some political 
 trouble in Canada, one of the prime 
 movers of the rebellion was captured, 
 escaped, and took refuge among this group 
 of islands. There was a large price set 
 upon his head, so a great many persons 
 were out in pursuit of him, anxious to 
 obtain the money. 
 
 " Well, they got word that he was 
 hidden among these islands, and they de- 
 termined they would capture him ; the 
 poor man, when he found his retreat was 
 known, hadn't the least idea in the world 
 that he could escape. He gave himself 
 up for lost, and was sitting one day hidden 
 
144 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 under that very rock there " — pointing to a 
 rock — " when he saw a boat pushed to shore 
 near by and a young girl jump out. At 
 first he thought he must hide, but, looking 
 a little more closely, he saw it was his 
 young daughter, Lucy. He knew, of 
 course, that she had come to find him, so 
 he stole out under cover of the bushes, 
 until he told her by signs to come to 
 him. 
 
 " Then she came to him, hiding as he 
 had under bushes and rocks, so not to be 
 seen if she had been previously tracked ; 
 and when she reached him " 
 
 " She kissed him," said Guy, looking 
 provokingly at Butterfly. 
 
 " Yes," said Butterfly, innocently. 
 
 " I doubt whether she had time," con- 
 tinued Hal. " She came to warn him that 
 
The St. Laivrence. 145 
 
 his retreat had been found out, and to 
 carry him away to another place." 
 
 " She ! How could a young girl ?" asked 
 Guy, in much surprise and with some 
 contempt. 
 
 " That was the very beauty of the thing. 
 She was such a young girl that no one 
 suspected her of so much daring. She 
 had always been a pet of her father's, and 
 lie was very fond of bringing her among 
 these islands for pleasure, so she had 
 learned every channel and was a bold 
 oarswoman. 
 
 "Now, for weeks she came at night, 
 and, when no eve could see her, conveyed 
 her father from one place to another, 
 baffling every pursuer, until, tired of hunt- 
 ing for him in vain, the authorities gave 
 
 him up, and he escaped." 
 10 
 
146 Trip to Montreal 
 
 " dear ! how I wish I could row !" 
 said Butterfly, looking longingly towards 
 the islands. 
 
 " I'll teach you when you come to see 
 us," said Guy. " My father owns a boat 
 on the Hudson, and I go out just when I 
 please." 
 
 " Do you row ?" asked Hal. 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 " Then we will have a harbor row when 
 we get to Montreal," said Hal, gayly. 
 " There is Ogdensburg." 
 
VIII. 
 
 THE EAPIDS. 
 
 T Ogdensburg our travellers 
 changed the large and commo 
 +v*™ dious steamboat in which they 
 had sailed through Lake Ontario for a 
 smaller boat, made expressly for the St. 
 Lawrence passage. There was so much 
 bustle during the change, that Hal could 
 not gather his party together to tell them 
 about this town until they were once more 
 on their way. Even then he had to call 
 several times before he could draw them 
 towards the point, from which they could 
 catch a last view of the town as they 
 rapidly left it. 
 
 (1471 
 
148 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 " I want to tell you," he said then, as 
 they huddled together in the stern of the 
 boat, with the pretty town rising behind 
 them, "that 'way back, in 1748" 
 
 " More than a hundred years ago," said 
 Guy. 
 
 " Yes, more than a hundred years ago, 
 Abbe Francois Piquet came over here as 
 a missionary to the Iroquois Indians. 
 You see, here is where the Oswegatchie 
 river empties into the St. Lawrence ; and 
 just in such places the Indians love to 
 congregate. He built a fort, and did a 
 great deal in the way of teaching the In- 
 dians ; but they got to fighting, and that 
 ended the whole — that was for the time. 
 The white people had found it would 
 be a beautiful place to live in, and 
 came back to it in due time." 
 
The Rapids. 149 
 
 " Then, what makes it chiefly interest- 
 ing is, because it was begun as a mission- 
 ary settlement," said Guy. 
 
 " Yes, and that is worth knowing." 
 
 "Of course it is. My father says no 
 knowledge is ever lost. Butterfly, where 
 are you flying to now?" 
 
 Butterfly, without stopping to answer, 
 ran quickly across the boat, the children 
 following. 
 
 To Guy's surprise she ran directly up to 
 an old lady, who, though he had not seen 
 it, had been beckoning to her. 
 
 " One of you is enough," said the wo- 
 man, gruffly, as she saw them all coming. 
 "It's the little girl with blue eyes that 
 I'm wanting." 
 
 The others, not used to being thus ad- 
 dressed, turned at once ; but the woman 
 
150 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 only winked at Butterfly, and seemed 
 very much amused. 
 
 "Josiah would call that 'cutting and 
 running,' " she said. Butterfly looked at 
 her as if she did not quite understand 
 what she meant, nor do I think she did. 
 "Look here!" she then said, pulling her 
 dress from over a large basket, which But- 
 terfly knew at once to be the one Guy had 
 found. " That is for him," pointing to 
 Guy, " and I want you to carry it to him, 
 formal like, with my compliments and my 
 kindest thanks. Peep in !" 
 
 So saying, she lifted the lid of the basket, 
 and Butterfly's eyes grew very large and 
 bright as she saw its contents. Peaches 
 and pears, plums and grapes, were ar- 
 ranged in the prettiest manner. Every 
 peach turned with its red side uppermost, 
 
The Rapids. 151 
 
 and the grapes, purple and luscious-look- 
 ing, trailing like festoons around the pears. 
 
 "Those are for Guy!" Butterfly ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 "Yes, with my compliments and kind 
 thanks," repeated the woman, her coarse, 
 homely face lighting up with a pleasant 
 look. 
 
 " O dear me, how splendid !" Butter- 
 fly exclaimed. " I shouldn't wonder if he 
 was as happy as a king. Let me take 
 them, quick ! Thank you very much in- 
 deed — that is, Guy will thank you, and I 
 do too — for — for" — said Butterfly, stop- 
 ping suddenly — " for letting me carry them 
 to him." 
 
 " I'm thinking you'll get a bite, if my 
 eyes don't deceive me," said the woman, 
 looking very wise ; but Butterfly did not 
 
152 Trip to Montreal 
 
 know what she meant. She only knew 
 that there was Guy, and here was the 
 basket, and the distance between them 
 was to be passed over in the least possi- 
 ble time. 
 
 The basket was as heavy as she could 
 well carry ; and no sooner did Guy— who, 
 after his repulse, had walked a little 
 angrily away to another side of the boat 
 — catch a sight of her with so much more 
 than she could easily lift, than he ran to 
 meet and help her. 
 
 " They are all for you — the lady says 
 so " — placing the handle of the basket as 
 quickly as she could in Guy's hands — 
 " and there are lots of them. O my ! so 
 splendid ! Dear me ! I never, never, in all 
 my life saw the like, and you are to have 
 her love, and her — no" — said Butterfly, 
 
The Rapids. 
 
 stopping abruptly — " her compliments, 
 and her love, and her regards — no, not 
 that either — her — her " 
 
 "Never mind her what," said Guy, 
 peeping in ; " we've got her fruit, and that 
 is enough. See here, Hal, if a fellow gets 
 this for being cross and snappish and 
 rude as a bear, when he is asked to do a 
 favor, what wouldn't happen if he did it 
 as he ought, like a gentleman ?" 
 
 " Just nothing,'" said Hal, looking over 
 Guy's shoulder into the basket. " Mr. 
 Niles says we ought never to do a good or 
 a kind action for the sake of a reward." 
 
 " It makes a chap feel so mean," broke 
 in Guy. " I tell you I was as savage as 
 a meat-axe ; and when she called me ' knee 
 
 high to a toad,' I could have " opening 
 
 his hand in a very expressive manner, " if 
 
154 Trip to Montreal 
 
 she had not been a woman, and an old 
 one at that. I can't take them, Hal — 
 there is no two ways about it. I cannot." 
 
 " What can yon do, then ?" 
 
 " Ask my mother." And away went Guy 
 to talk the matter over with his mother. 
 Pretty soon he came back with a very 
 happy face. 
 
 "All right," he said, merrily. "Now 
 we have nothing to do but help ourselves, 
 and here is a rich treat indeed." 
 
 Guy felt very proud as he acted the 
 part of lord of the feast. His mother had 
 sent him to thank the lady for her gift, 
 and had whispered to him : 
 
 " Let it be a lesson to you for the future. 
 Always be obliging when you can, and be 
 so whole-heartedly ; that is the beauty of 
 the thing — whole-hearted" 
 
The Bapids. 155 
 
 Guy had determined lie would, and it 
 was this good resolution that made him 
 so happy now. 
 
 Before the children had quite disposed 
 of the fruit, Mr. Niles came and said : 
 "The boat is approaching the first 
 rapids." 
 
 Now these rapids are, perhaps, greater 
 objects of interest in sailing through the 
 St. Lawrence than even the Thousand 
 Isles, particularly to the boys. So the re- 
 mainder of the fruit was put away hastily, 
 and they all hurried to that part of the 
 boat from which the best view could be 
 obtained. 
 
 They were now about to enter the first 
 rapids, called " Galliope Rapids." These 
 are a very good preparation for what is to 
 come afterwards. The water runs swiftly, 
 
156 Trip to Montreal 
 
 tumbling up as it passes over the rocks, 
 like waves, and when the steamer enters, 
 it seems to fly along, as if it were ready 
 to plunge down into an abyss. 
 
 The children were prepared, however, 
 for something far more wonderful. Guy 
 and Hal looked a little contemptuously 
 upon what they were expected to admire ; 
 but they had both been at sea, and these 
 first rapids do not seem great to those 
 who have been tossed upon the At- 
 lantic. 
 
 "Is this all?" said Guy. 
 
 " All ! It's splendid !" said Butterfly. 
 
 " I think it's very nice," said Margaret. 
 " I like it better than the others, there is 
 so much less danger." 
 
 " I don't see any fun at all here," said 
 Hal ; " but you wait. If you don't sing a 
 
The Hapids. 15? 
 
 different song, Guy, before we reach Mont- 
 real, then I am mistaken, that's all." 
 
 " I hope you will be," said Guy, with an 
 incredulous shake of the head. "If you 
 can believe it, Hal, my friend of the 
 fruit-basket asked the captain if he was 
 sure his boat is safe — if there is no danger 
 of its going to the bottom — where the 
 worst rocks are— and " 
 
 " Little boy," said a voice close to Guy, 
 " when you are as old as I am, and Josiah 
 isn't with you, you will learn that it isn't 
 the prettiest thing in the world to be 
 a-going head-first you don't know where." 
 
 " But we do know where," said Guy, as 
 quietly as if he had known all the time 
 she was there. " We are going to Montreal, 
 and the rapids only help us to go the 
 quicker." 
 
158 "trip to Montreal 
 
 " Don't trifle with solemn things," said 
 the woman, looking at Guy very sternly ; 
 and then she turned, and away she went, 
 Guy's face changing into a very merry 
 smile. 
 
 There were several small rapids through 
 which the boats passed before they reached 
 those which are considered the most beau- 
 tiful in the St. Lawrence. These are called 
 the Long Sault, and are nine miles long, 
 divided in the centre by an island. 
 
 As soon as the boat came within sight 
 of this white water, there began to be a 
 movement on deck. All the passengers 
 came up from the cabin, and those who 
 were in the stern of the boat pressed 
 eagerly to the fore part. Mothers called 
 then children to them, and families every- 
 where arranged themselves in groups, as if 
 
The Rapids. 159 
 
 expecting some great event, and being 
 determined to meet it together. 
 
 Aunt Bessie would like to have had 
 Butterfly close by her side, but Aunt 
 Matilda said, sensibly : " If you show any 
 anxiety, you will give it to her. She is 
 perfectly fearless now, and will enjoy 
 everything much better if she continues 
 so." 
 
 Therefore Butterfly was left with her 
 young friends. 
 
 " Shut off the steam, I see," Mr. Mies 
 said, coming towards them. " Now, chil- 
 dren, come with me to the wheel-house. 
 Batiste is just coming on board. Did you 
 hear them whistling for him ?" 
 
 " Oh, that was it," said Guy. " I knew 
 it was a signal, but I could not tell for 
 what." 
 
160 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 " There lie is. Look !" 
 
 The children turned to see an Indian 
 running up the rope-ladder that was 
 lowered for him. Then his canoe, a long, 
 slim boat, made of birch, was drawn up 
 after him. He waited to see it safe. 
 Then with a bound he sprang down on 
 deck, and with long strides, without turn- 
 ing his head to the right or the left, or 
 taking the least notice of the passengers 
 who crowded around, he went to the 
 wheel-house and took command of the 
 vessel and of all the lives on board her. 
 
 Batiste was a large man, dressed with 
 all the oddities of Indian costume. He 
 wore tight-fitting pants made from a wolf- 
 skin, the hair inside, a shirt of striped 
 woollen, a sash of red broadcloth, elegantly 
 embroidered with beads and figures made 
 
The Bapids. 161 
 
 of colored barks, ended by a heavy bead 
 fringe. A long, gray woollen blanket, 
 embroidered also in showy figures, was 
 fastened at his neck, with a round pin, cut 
 from a stone, with a mosaic of steel. 
 Long black hair, coarse and straight, hung 
 down to his waist ; and fitting tight to his 
 head was a round cap, heavily worked 
 with beads, and surmounted by two eagle 
 plumes. 
 
 He had piercing black eyes, high cheeks, 
 a large mouth, and looked so grave and 
 stern that Butterfly crept close to Mar- 
 garet, putting her arm round her waist as 
 she did so. 
 
 Guy saw the action and said : " You are 
 
 afraid, Butterfly. He has too much else 
 
 to do to swallow you up at a mouthful." 
 
 Butterfly could understand very little of 
 11 
 
1G2 Trip to Montreal 
 
 what the others seemed to know so much. 
 She only knew that Batiste took hold of 
 the wheel, and. three other men with him, 
 and a little distance from him were two 
 more, pulling away at something Guy 
 called a "tiller," and then the boat went 
 plunging down into the water, and rocked 
 and tumbled about in a way that seemed 
 very funny to her, while the faces of 'Jie 
 six men grew red; and when Batiste 
 grunted out a word, as he did every now 
 and then, their faces grew even redder, 
 and they pulled away as if they meant the 
 steamer should go just Batiste's way and 
 no other. 
 
 " "We go like shot," said Guy, after 
 watching their progress silently for a few 
 minutes. "But after all, the waves are 
 nothing like those of the sea in a storm." 
 
The Rapids. 163 
 
 " You wait until you reach Montreal, 5 
 still said Hal, and only smiled when Guy 
 looked so incredulous. 
 
 There was very little time lost in passing 
 through these rapids, and long before 
 Butterfly was ready for still water they 
 were out of them, and Batiste was down 
 among the crew, smoking his pipe as 
 quietly as if there had never been such a 
 place as the Long Saulfc Bapids. 
 
 Yery soon after leaving these rapids, 
 Hal said : 
 
 " There, Guy. Here the St. Lawrence 
 says good-by to America, and becomes 
 wholly her Majesty's !" 
 
 " And her Majesty is welcome to her," 
 said Guy, with a low bow. " We have 
 plenty of better rivers left." 
 
164 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 Hal laughed. " You Americans can 
 brag," he said. 
 
 " Yes, we inherited the trait," answered 
 Guy. And Mr. Mies, when he heard his 
 answer, laughed heartily. 
 
 " Now," said Gu} f , " I don't want to hear 
 nor see a thing until we come to the 
 Cedars. This quiet water is very tame." 
 And he sat down, covering his face with 
 both of his hands. 
 
 " Then you don't want to hear the 
 story." 
 
 " Of what ?" said Guy, uncovering one 
 eye and peeping out. 
 
 " Of the old Indian village of St. Kegis 
 and the bell." 
 
 " I do," said Guy. 
 
 " No, I won't tell you until after we pass 
 the Cedar Eapids," said Hal, provokingly. 
 
The Rapids. 165 
 
 " 1 will, though," said Margaret. 
 
 " Do," said Butterfly. 
 
 " Begin, then. ' Once upon a time,' " 
 said Guy. 
 
 " Do it up short," said Hal. 
 
 "Catholic priests told the Indians who 
 lived here, and whom they had half con- 
 verted, that they would never go to a 
 happy world hereafter unless they built a 
 church and bought a bell. So they sold 
 furs and raised money enough to buy a 
 bell in France. But on its way to this 
 country it was captured and carried into 
 Salem, Mass. Then some people in Deer- 
 field wanted to buy it, and they did, and 
 carried it home, and put it up in the 
 belfry of their church. When the priest 
 heard where it was, he told the Indians 
 they must go and find it. So away they 
 
166 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 went, through woods where there wasn't 
 any path, until they came to Deerfield, in 
 the night. Everybody was asleep, and 
 they went right into the town, killed eve] 
 so many, and took others prisoners, and 
 then they fastened the bell to a long pole, 
 and carried it home." 
 
 " Dear me, I should think that was a 
 new way, to murder for a church-bell," 
 said Guy. 
 
 " They did, though," repeated Margaret. 
 " I have been at St. Kegis many times, and 
 seen this very bell." 
 
 " Just done in time. Here we go into 
 the rapids. Now for the same things over, 
 but you just please to wait for La Chine, 
 said Hal, " and then we'll talk about the 
 rapids" 
 
IX. 
 
 COMING INTO POET. 
 
 ig^ A CHINE Eapids fully justified 
 
 all Hal had said in their praise. 
 
 Batiste took the helm again, and 
 
 the four men were at the wheel and two 
 
 more at the rudder. All the passengers 
 
 crowded to the fore part of the boat as 
 
 soon as the roar and tumble of the water 
 
 gave warning that they were approaching 
 
 this famous pass. Our party of travellers, 
 
 with the addition of the new friends they 
 
 had made since leaving Niagara, Hal and 
 
 his tutor, Margaret aud her grandmother, 
 
 gathered together, and fortunately secured 
 
 (167) 
 
168 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 one of the best places for seeing and 
 hearing. On went the good, stanch 
 boat bravely into the water. 
 
 " Just as if she knew what was expected 
 of her," Gay said, " and meant to meet 
 the occasion nobly." 
 
 Now came pitching and tossing, a 
 feeling as if the boat was going head 
 first into a watery grave — a sharp grind- 
 ing when its keel struck against a stone, 
 a little screaming from the most timid of 
 the passengers. Pale faces and anxious 
 looks on many that were not frightened 
 enough to express their fears, and a 
 general wish that the rapids were passed 
 in the hearts of all. 
 
 As the boat went into the midst of the 
 roughest water, Butterfly, who was much 
 attracted by Batiste and the men at the 
 
Coming into Port. 169 
 
 wheel, saw the captain spring suddenly 
 from the wheel-house down upon deck, 
 and run towards the tiller. Two other 
 men followed him in an instant, and then 
 came screams from every part of the 
 deck., and she heard the words : 
 
 " We're lost ! we're lost !" 
 
 Catching tight hold of Aunt Bessie's 
 arms, she looked around her in much 
 alarm. What had happened ? 
 
 Passengers began to push back from 
 the fore part of the boat. Some covered 
 their faces, some wrung their hands, a few 
 dropped on their knees, and Butterfly 
 heard the old woman, whose basket Guy 
 had found, praying. 
 
 To her question of what had happened, 
 Aunt Bessie could make no answer. In- 
 deed all that was known was that the 
 
170 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 captain and men had jumped from the 
 wheel-house with pale, excited faces ; and 
 Batiste, left with one man only, was 
 apparently doing the Avork of all. 
 
 Guy went to his mother's side, putting 
 his arm affectionately around her neck. 
 This Butterfly could see while she watched 
 Batiste. 
 
 The ten minutes that followed, the 
 child will probably never forget. The 
 roll of the vessel, the roar of the water, 
 the terrified passengers, Batiste and the 
 other men that managed the boat, and 
 Aunt Bessie's calm, pale face, that said to 
 her as distinctly as the little Margaret 
 once had to her mother, " Whatever hap- 
 pens, Jesus is here." 
 
 It was not until the peril was safely 
 
Coming into Port. 171 
 
 past, that Butterfly, or indeed any pas- 
 senger, knew what had taken place. 
 
 One of the large ropes upon which they 
 depended for the control of the boat had 
 suddenly parted, and had not the prudent 
 managers provided for just such an 
 emergency, the boat would have struck 
 upon the rocks and many lives must have 
 been lost. 
 
 " Were we really in danger ?" Butterfly 
 heard Aunt Matilda ask the pleasant 
 captain, when, the rapids passed, they 
 were again in still water, and he was 
 mingling with the passengers. 
 
 " Yes, great danger, for a few minutes," 
 he said; "but, thank God, it is over. 
 These rapids are always dangerous, and 
 I never pass through them without being 
 
172 Trip to Montreal 
 
 inclined to say as I do now, 'Thank 
 God.' " 
 
 " I like that man," said Guy afterwards, 
 when the children were discussing their 
 escape together. " He is a brave, and a 
 good man too. My father says the 
 bravest men are always those who can 
 see God's hand in everything, and love to 
 thank him heartily, as Captain Black did." 
 
 Hal looked at Guy in some surprise. 
 He was not accustomed to hearing a boy 
 speak of anything religious in a common 
 conversation ; but Guy had been brought 
 up to recognize religion as nothing sepa- 
 rated from, only the most important part 
 of, his every-day life. 
 
 The children were now so fully occupied 
 in imagining what might have happened, 
 that they did not notice very many of the 
 
Coming into Port. 173 
 
 objects of interest around them, until Hal 
 said: 
 
 " Look there, can you show anything to 
 equal that in the United States ?" pointing, 
 as he spoke, to the Victoria Bridge. 
 
 Instead of answering him, Guy asked, 
 " How long is this bridge ? who built it ? 
 and for what special purpose ?" 
 
 " Well, sir," said Hal, seating himself 
 deliberately, and assuming the look of an 
 old guide, "I will begin with your last 
 question. The bridge was built by the 
 Grand Trunk Eailway Company. They 
 must, you see, get over this river in some 
 way, so James Hodges, builder, said to 
 Robert Stevenson, engineer, ' I'll make a 
 bridge for you,' and Mr. Stevenson said, 
 ' Go ahead,' and so he put down twenty- 
 four piers, two hundred and forty-two or 
 
174 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 three hundred and twenty feet apart, over a 
 distance of one mile and a quarter. Now, 
 in winter, you know, Canada is a cold 
 place, and the ice is something of a 
 somebody. It comes pressing down 
 against this bridge, not like a trifle, let me 
 tell you, but with a weight of thousands 
 of tons. So Mr. Hodges made all the 
 abutments of this bridge able to resist 
 a pressure of seventy thousand tons. If 
 we have time, we will go to the top of that 
 centre tube. I tell you what, Guy, you 
 will see things there that will make you 
 stare." 
 
 "That's what I can do easily," said 
 Guy, opening his mouth, and eyes very 
 wide, at which the little folks, of course, 
 laughed. 
 
 " How much did it cost ?" asked he then. 
 
Coming into Port 175 
 
 " That is a regular Yankee question," 
 said Hal. "It cost seven millions of 
 dollars." 
 
 " A pretty sum ! I hope it pays." 
 
 " I think it is not good property." And 
 Hal looked as concerned while he was 
 saying this as his father would have done. 
 " We pass right under it, in order to enter 
 the harbor at Montreal, and you will see 
 then how high it is above the water." 
 
 " Do we have to lower our chimneys ? 
 I've been often in boats that were obliged 
 to do so in order to sail clear of a 
 bridge." 
 
 "You wait and see," was all Hal 
 answered. 
 
 " I see it," said Butterfly, suddenly. 
 
 " See what ?" asked Margaret. 
 
 " Montreal, I guess." 
 
176 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 "Is that all? Why, I thought it was 
 something great," said Guy. 
 
 "It is," said Hal. 
 
 Guy smiled. He had been into the 
 harbor of New York so often, and seen 
 that great city spread out before him, that 
 Montreal did not seem to him so very 
 large. 
 
 Hal saw the smile, and answered : 
 
 " Here is a river frontage of nearly 
 three miles in length, not easily beaten 
 anywhere. For more than a mile it has 
 a stone wall ; and see there," pointing to 
 a glittering dome — "there is Bonsecours 
 Market ; and there by it, you see, Guy" 
 
 " Yes," said Guy. 
 
 " That spire belongs to the Bonsecours 
 church, one of the oldest churches in 
 Montreal. Look at Mount Koj^al, away 
 
Coming into Port. 177 
 
 there in the background. Don't you see 
 those beautiful villas?" 
 
 " I do," said Butterfly. " I see houses 
 and belfries." 
 
 " Spires," interrupted Guy. 
 
 " Spires," went on Butterfly, good-na- 
 turedly ; " and — and — lots of things." 
 
 " Yes, that is just it," said Guy. " Lots 
 of things. Now here we go under the 
 bridge. I tell you what, Hal, you were 
 right. This is a pretty tall sort of a thing. 
 Look up, Butterfly. See what a distance 
 there is above us before we come any- 
 where near it. It is grand !" 
 
 This hearty admiration Hal enjoyed, 
 
 and I think the face of the English boy, 
 
 as he stood looking up to the bridge 
 
 above him, was made very beautiful by 
 
 the love of his country which spoke in 
 12 
 
178 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 every look. Guy thought so too ; for in- 
 voluntarily lie held out his hand, and 
 said: 
 
 " Hal, let us be friends longer than for 
 the voyage." 
 
 Hal hesitated for one moment. He had 
 not been educated into that love for 
 Americans that would make him take one 
 warmly and at once into his affections ; 
 but there was something about Guy 
 which he could not resist, and he put his 
 hand cordially in Guy's, his grasp warmer 
 and longer than any other boy's had ever 
 been before. 
 
 " There is Notre Dame," said Margaret, 
 while they still held hands under the 
 bridge. 
 
 "Notre Dame? Who is that?" asked 
 Butterfly. 
 
Coming into Port 179 
 
 The children all laughed. 
 
 " Who is a large Catholic church," said 
 Guy. 
 
 " Oh, I thought it was a woman," said 
 Butterfly. 
 
 " It is named after one," said Hal, 
 " ' Our Lady,' meaning the Holy Virgin, 
 Mary, the mother of Jesus. "We will go 
 together and visit it, Guy. Mr. Mies 
 says he will extend my vacation as long 
 as you remain in Montreal, and if you will 
 take me for guide, nothing will make me 
 happier." 
 
 When Margaret heard this, she ran to 
 her grandmother, and soon came back 
 with a very smiling face. 
 
 " My grandmother says," she said, 
 " that I may go too. May I ?" 
 
 Butterfly, by way of answer, hugged 
 
180 Trip to Montreal 
 
 and kissed her, and Margaret seemed to. 
 understand that she meant, "Yes, it 
 would make her very happy to have her 
 with them," as in truth it did. 
 
 "What is that tower?" asked Guy, 
 pointing to a tall tower. 
 
 " Koyal Insurance Buildings," said Hal ; 
 " and all that long line of handsome stone 
 buildings flanking the wharf are stores. 
 We shall land at Jacques Cartier's 
 Square. Here we are, headed for it now." 
 
 The boat steamed slowly through long 
 lines of shipping until it came to a large 
 wharf, before which several other steam- 
 boats were already landing passengers. 
 Each one had its place, and so, carefully 
 avoiding any collision, went to its own 
 landing, let off its steam, blew its whistle, 
 rang its bell, and stopped. 
 
Coming into Port. 181 
 
 Butterfly's aunts did not offer to take 
 the few cares they had given to Butterfly 
 from her because there was so much that 
 was new to see and hear here. She would 
 very gladly have stood still and left ever} T - 
 thing to be done by some one else ; but 
 she very well knew this was neither kind 
 nor polite, so, with many longing looks 
 behind her, she went down into her state- 
 room, and began to gather together all 
 her travelling articles. These had accu- 
 mulated since she left home. Indeed, I 
 am afraid, if her kind aunts had not kept 
 a quiet watch over them, she would hardly 
 have had them all when she reached her 
 own home in Frostland. 
 
 When she came back on deck now, she 
 looked like the little old woman we have 
 all heard about who never could travel 
 
182 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 without taking with her "big box, little 
 box, bandbox, and bundle." So Guy told 
 her, but she didn't care, only so she kept 
 them safe. 
 
 " O my ! dear me ! how funny !" Say- 
 ing these words, Butterfly began to drop 
 first a basket, then stooping to pick it up, 
 she let her sunshade fall. Picking up 
 that, down went her reticule ; picking up 
 that, over went her water-proof ; until she 
 was only a little girl, sitting amidst a heap 
 of travelling gear, trying to get it together 
 with her hands, while her eyes were fixed 
 upon a man dressed in a green coat, with 
 white knee-breeches, who was coming on 
 deck. 
 
 " Did you ever see such a funny-looking 
 man?" she said, pointing him out to the 
 others. 
 
Coming into Port. 183 
 
 " Oh, there is John !" said Margaret. 
 "John! John!" 
 
 The man in the green coat turned at 
 once, then lifted a tall black hat with a 
 white band around it, and came towards 
 her. 
 
 " Who is it ?" asked Butterfly, more and 
 more astonished. 
 
 " Our footman, John," said Margaret. 
 But Butterfly never had heard of a foot- 
 man before, and did not know what she 
 meant. 
 
 The man looked as if he was very glad 
 to see Margaret ; but she did not seem to 
 care for him, and Butterfly felt sorry, and 
 wanted to go to him and say a kind 
 word. But just then he caught sight of 
 Margaret's grandmother, and, touching 
 his hat once more, went towards her, 
 
184 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 Butterfly following him curiously with her 
 eyes. 
 
 Pretty soon he oame back, bringing 
 Margaret a message from her grandmo- 
 ther, and then she said " good-by " to the 
 children, promising to come early the 
 next day to see Butterfly, at her hotel. 
 
 " Look out, now !" said Hal, as Marga- 
 ret with her grandmother went over the 
 broad board which had been placed be- 
 tween the boat and the wharf for the 
 accommodation of travellers. " Look out 
 for Lord John Talbot's carriage ! It's the 
 handsomest turnout Ave have in Mont- 
 real." 
 
 Guy ran with Hal to a side of the boat, 
 so that they could see up the street upon 
 which the carriage had started, and But- 
 terfly followed them, 
 
Coming into Port. 185 
 
 However handsome the " turnout " wa°, 
 the only thing which made any impression 
 upon her was the two men, coachman and 
 footman, dressed in what seemed to her 
 the most ridiculous of dresses. 
 
 " Why, Aunt Bessie," she said, as soon 
 as they were moving away from the boat 
 in the omnibus that ran to the St. Law- 
 rence Hall, " dear ! he looked just like 
 — just like a picture I saw once in Emma's 
 old English story-book." 
 
 "And I dare say he had on the very 
 same dress that the picture was made to 
 represent. These old English families 
 seldom change their liveries." 
 
 " Liveries. What are those ?" 
 
 " The dresses of their servants." 
 
 " How very, very funny !" 
 
 " That is only one of many funny thing? 
 
186 Trip to Montreal 
 
 you will see here," said Aunt Bessie ; at 
 hearing which, Butterfly had to whisper 
 her delight to Guy, who looked very 
 manly on the occasion, and said : 
 
 "I have no doubt we shall hunt up 
 something in Montreal worth coming for, 
 and to begin with, here is the St. Law- 
 rence Hall, the very best here, and our 
 home for the next week, at least." 
 
X. 
 
 LETTEKS. 
 
 T the St. Lawrence Hall a large 
 number of letters were waiting 
 X*" 8 * our travellers. They were hand- 
 ed to Guy as soon as their rooms were 
 taken, and he saw with much pleasure 
 two for Butterfly and three for himself. 
 As none of them are very long, and they 
 are all from the young friends who have 
 been with us in our preceding books, it 
 may interest my young readers to have me 
 copy them here. The first Guy opened 
 
 was from Bertie, and must have been put 
 
 (187) 
 
188 Trip to Montreal 
 
 into the office on the same day that the 
 party left Niagara. Here it is : 
 
 "Deak Guy: 
 
 "I miss you, old fellow. I wish you 
 were here. I am counting the weeks 
 already until we go to school together. 
 This morning I am going to have the big 
 black horse and trot down to the Suspen- 
 sion Bridge ; and this afternoon I am 
 going to have another row up and down 
 the river. We — that is the ferryman and 
 I — are going up as close to the falls as we 
 can. I mean to get in under them, so we 
 can have a real ducking. But don't you 
 tell anybody, for she— you know who— 
 wouldn't let me, and then we should have 
 a row. She and I are getting to be real 
 good friends — quite affectionate — that is, 
 she is, and I grin and take it. 
 
Letters. 189 
 
 " Good-by, parson prim. No, Prig, it 
 was, I believe. Days fly by, and our time 
 will come at last. Till then, yours, 
 
 " Bertie." 
 
 " Good for Bertie !" said Guy, folding 
 the letter slowly. " I should like to be 
 with him in the boat. Mother, I wish I 
 was the eldest of ten boys. Then you 
 would let me - go, wouldn't you ?" 
 
 " No sooner than I would now, Guy," 
 said his mother, smiling. 'I think such 
 exploits foolhardy." 
 
 Guy would probably like to have dis- 
 cussed this point if he had not two more 
 letters to read ; but while he had been 
 busy with Bertie's, Butterfly had opened 
 one of hers, and was now ready to read it 
 aloud to him. 
 
 " Oh, it's elegant!" 
 
190 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 " I don't see it. It looks rather crooked," 
 said Guy, peeping over her shoulder. 
 
 "I mean — there — I promised Aunt 
 Bessie I would try and not say any of 
 those words to-day, and I have already. 
 Well, it's from Marie, and it tells me 
 everything. 
 
 " ' Dear, darling Butterfly : 
 
 " ' I love you so dearly, that if I could 
 see you this minute I would give you 'most 
 a thousand kisses.' " 
 
 "I wish you could," said Butterfly, 
 interrupting her reading. 
 
 " ' I go up to the Clarendon, and look up 
 to your window, but you are not there.' ' : 
 
 " Evident, if you are in Montreal," said 
 Guy. 
 
 " ' And then I feel as if I should like 
 to cry, and sometimes I do almost. Then 
 
Letters. 191 
 
 I go up to see Charlie. To-day I carried 
 liim some presents ; but mamma says it is 
 not ladylike to talk about a gift you have 
 made, so I will not tell you what they 
 were. He likes them, and we went to 
 walk together — that is, I walked and 
 helped drag him — and when we got to 
 Empire Spring, we hunted up the place 
 where you told your story about Alice 
 and Charlie told me another all about — 
 but I can't stop to tell you now, because 
 my letter wants to go to you soon, and I 
 see Felice putting on her sash. Then she 
 will say, " Come, Marie," and I must go. 
 
 " ' I love you dearly and I miss you 
 always. I wish you would come back, so 
 does Charlie, so do we all. Please come. 
 I love you. I kiss you. 
 
 " < Maeie.' " 
 
192 Trip to Montreal 
 
 Butterfly kissed the letter over and over 
 again, and then Guy, laughing, said : 
 
 " That will do. Now here is one to me 
 from Charlie's own self. Listen : 
 
 " ' Dear Guy : 
 
 " ' Mother says all I can write, when I 
 write to Butterfly or you, is : "I love you, 
 and I want to see you ;" but it isn't. I can 
 tell you how Nap has come, and Marie 
 knows him so well that he barks every 
 time he hears her voice when she comes 
 to see me. I tell you what, sir, he is the 
 most splendidest dog ever was. You 
 should just see him, if you want to know. 
 
 " ' Marie's father came with him, and he 
 laid my hand on his cold noss, and he 
 said : " Nap, this is your little master, now. 
 Be very kind and good to him, will you?" 
 
Letters. 193 
 
 And Nap made a little bark just as if he 
 was saying, "Yes," only it frightened me 
 so I took off my hand in a hurry, I tell 
 you. 
 
 " ' Father says, when he gets to know 
 me well, I may have him harnessed into 
 my wagon and take a ride. But Marie's 
 father gave my wagon a shake, and said, 
 " It wasn't just the thing for a sick boy to 
 ride in." And then he turned it up-side 
 down, and said something to my father 
 that I couldn't hear ; but when he went 
 away, father began to tinker on it, and 
 then it rode so easy. 
 
 " ' O Guy ! Guy ! Guy ! you don't know 
 
 what a beauty Nap is ! With a black and 
 
 white face, and a black and white body, 
 
 and a white tail, all bushy, with a little 
 
 black end, and four white feet, and such 
 13 
 
194 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 ears ! I wish you would come and see 
 liim — you and Butterfly. Can't you? 
 P]ease do, and see, too, your loving Char- 
 lie, who is happy as a king.' ,: 
 
 " Three cheers for Nap !" said Guy, 
 waving the letter over his head. " He is a 
 real Newfoundlander, mother, like our old 
 Tiger. I should like to see him right well, 
 and to drive out Charlie. I say, Butterfly, 
 let you and me go back to Saratoga." 
 
 " Well, yes, I should love to dearly. 
 Oh, here, I have a letter from Charlie 
 too." 
 
 " So you have. Bead it, do." 
 
 " ' Deak Buttekfly : 
 
 " ' Mother says I do nothing but want 
 her to write to you or Guy all the time ; but 
 Nap is so nice ; and what do you think ? 
 
Letters. 195 
 
 Yesterday a big, big thing came up to our 
 door — I mean the express-man brought it — 
 directed, to " Master Charlie, from his 
 friend Marie," and just as fast as we could, 
 mother and I untied it — the strings, I 
 mean, round the brown paper — and there 
 it was. O dear ! it is so nice I don't know 
 how to begin to tell you about it. It's a 
 carriage — not a wagon, you know, but a 
 real, true carriage, all cushioned, and it's 
 dark blue, and it's painted with gold — a 
 little gold butterfly right on its side ; and 
 Marie says that is in honor of you, our 
 own live Butterfly, and mother says 'In 
 honor of means that we love you and 
 want to say so — and it's mine — my ownty- 
 townty — can you believe it ? I can't, but 
 it really and truly is. " Charlie, from his 
 friend Marie," you know. 
 
196 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 " ' Then I've got a harness, a real "har- 
 ness, for Nap, just as if he was a horse ; 
 a saddle and a bridle, and hold backs, and 
 
 dear, such reins ! Blue, with " Charlie " 
 in great letters on them ; and a whip — but 
 
 1 wouldn't touch it to Nap for the world. 
 It's only to make it all up, like a real 
 horse, you know. But I like a dog — I 
 like Nap a great deal better. 
 
 " ' I am going to ride with it. Marie 
 comes too, and father is going to show 
 me liow to drive. Good-by. I can't 
 write any more, 'cause I guess Marie will 
 be here soon, and I must go and get 
 ready. Please tell Guy all about it. 
 
 "'Your little happy, Charlie.' 
 
 " ' Mother says this is a pretty way to 
 sign it — my letter, I mean.' " 
 
Letters. 197 
 
 Butterfly and Guy looked in each other's 
 faces after this letter was read, with 
 almost too much delight to speak. At 
 length Guy said : 
 
 " Butterfly, that is what I call first-rate 
 Only think, a dog, a wagon, a harness, 
 and a whip ! A complete outfit." 
 
 " And a gold butterfly," said Butterfly, 
 dancing around, " because they love me so 
 dearly. Oh, Aunt Bessie, I wish you 
 would let us go right back and see it." 
 
 "Not this time," said Aunt Bessie. 
 " We have Montreal before us yet, you 
 know." 
 
 " We can't go, of course, Butterfly," 
 said Guy, in a very old way, "but I 
 mean to write to Charlie to have a 
 photograph taken of the whole affair and 
 sent to us," 
 
198 Ti ip to Montreal. 
 
 "A photogTaph of a dog !" said Butter- 
 fly, opening her eyes very wide. 
 
 ' Yes ; and the carriage, with Charlie in 
 it. I had one of Tiger. By the way, here 
 is one in my pocket now." And opening 
 his pocket-book, Guy took out a picture 
 of a large Newfoundland dog. 
 
 " What a beauty !" said Butterfly, hold- 
 ing it at arm's length. 
 
 " I ratb (,r think he is. You shall see 
 him whf/i you come. Father calls him, 
 ' My id. 3 sparable,' when I am at home. If 
 Nap baats him, he is a pretty fine fellow. 
 That is the most I have to say. Now for 
 my third letter. It is from Bennie: 
 written in the cars, and mailed on the 
 wa} 7 . It's written in pencil. But see this, 
 mother, don't you call it a fair hand for a 
 boy like that ?" 
 
Letters. 199 
 
 "I think it shows a great deal of 
 character," said Guy's mother, looking at 
 the note. " Are you going to read it 
 aloud?" 
 
 " Of course I am. 
 
 " < Dear Guy : 
 
 " ' Hallo there ! how are you ? I've just 
 been into the smoking-car, and there was 
 a little fellow no bigger than you are.' 
 
 "I am as large as you are, sir," said 
 Guy, sitting up very straight. 
 
 " ' Smoking his cigar. He said it was 
 his third. What do you think of that? 
 Bat I tell you what, his face was yellow, 
 and all shrivelled up like an old man's I 
 saw once who had had the palsy fifty 
 years, I guess. I don't know, but it was 
 some awful long time ; and he — the boy — 
 
200 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 couldn't stand straight. I thought he had 
 been drinking, but it was only his cigars. 
 He was weak in his pegs. 
 
 " ' I am having a jolly ride. * We are in 
 an express train, and go forty miles an 
 hour. 
 
 " ' I expect a long letter from you when 
 I reach home. My mother bears the ride 
 well ; the girls enjoy it. 
 
 " ' Write. With love to Butterfly, 
 
 <" Yours ever, J— R !' " 
 
 " I should call your young friends very 
 punctual correspondents," said Aunt 
 Matilda, as the last letter was finished. 
 " Now, how soon do you and Guy intend 
 to answer these letters, Butterfly ?" 
 
 " To-night," said Butterfly, promptly. 
 
 " No, in three days," said Guy. " Then 
 
Letters. 201 
 
 we shall have seen Montreal and have 
 something to tell them about." 
 
 "But Charlie," said Butterfly, "I want 
 to tell him how glad we are." 
 
 " True enough. You run to your room 
 and I will to mine, and write him, then we 
 will put our notes together in one en- 
 velope." 
 
 The children separated, and just before 
 bedtime, tired as they were, they bad 
 written. two long letters to Charlie, which 
 they put together, and Guy directed, with 
 many flourishes of handwriting, to " Master 
 Charles Wilson, Saratoga, N. Y." And 
 tnen two happier children did not go to 
 sleep in Montreal that night, I am sure, 
 than Guy and Butterfly. 
 
XL 
 
 HAL ACTS AS CHAPEEON. 
 
 i HAT do you know about Mont- 
 real?" asked Guy the next 
 mk*j morning, when Butterfly, look- 
 ing rather pale and tired, made her ap- 
 pearance in their sitting-room. 
 
 "Nothing," said Butterfly, a little 
 crisply. "I thought that was what we 
 came here for." 
 
 "So we did; but don't you want to 
 know who built it ?" 
 " No," said Butterfly. 
 Guy looked at her in surprise. It was 
 
 so seldom that Butterfly was fretful, he 
 
 (202) 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon. 203 
 
 did not know what to make of it. " Then 
 I shall not tell you." 
 
 "No, don't," said Butterfly, going to 
 the window, and looking out. 
 
 Guy turned over the leaves of the book 
 he held in his hand very slowly. He had 
 been busy hunting up all the information 
 he could find about the city, but what he 
 had learned seemed very little reward if 
 he could not impart it to Butterfly. 
 
 Conscious that she had been cross, But- 
 terfly kept looking back at him from 
 under her eyes, in a way she had when 
 she did not wish to be observed, and 
 then out of the window again ; but she 
 was silent for a long time, so was Guy. 
 Suddenly she broke out with : 
 
 " O Guy ! O dear ! how funny ! Hurry, 
 hurry, Guy. Quick ! O my !" And she 
 
204 Trip to Montreal 
 
 jumped up and down, clapping her 
 hands. 
 
 Guy was at her side in a minute, and 
 saw — only a donkey-cart. 
 
 "What?" he asked, putting his head 
 far out of the window, and looking up and 
 down the street. 
 
 " That funny little cart and horse," said 
 Butterfly, pointing down into the street. 
 
 " That isn't a horse at all. "Why, Butter- 
 fly Courtland, did you never see a donkey 
 before ?" And there was something pro- 
 voking to Butterfly in the laugh with 
 which Guy followed this explanation. 
 
 " A donkey !" she said. " Why, I thought 
 a donkey was " Then she stopped. 
 
 "Was what?" asked Guy. " Did you 
 think a donkey was a horse ?" 
 
 " No," said Butterfly, briefly. 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon. 205 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 But Butterfly was now too fully occu- 
 pied by another new thing to answer. 
 
 "Biding behind," she said, "driving 
 over the top of the buggy !" 
 
 " Yes, that is a hansom." Guy wanted 
 to ask again, " Did you never see one be- 
 fore?" but he remembered how he had 
 annoyed Butterfly, so he said, kindly : 
 "We have a few of them in New York; 
 but my father says they are very common 
 in the streets of London. You see, the 
 driver sitting behind does not obstruct the 
 view of the person riding. It is just as 
 good as if you were driving yourself, only 
 you don't have the trouble of holding the 
 reins. All you have to do is to look out 
 and see what you can. We will have a 
 
206 Trip to Montreal 
 
 ride in one, Butterfly, before we are done 
 with Montreal, see if we do not !" 
 
 " That would be — O dear ! I was go- 
 ing to, but I didn't, did I, Guy ?" 
 
 "Did you what?" 
 
 " Say ' splendid.' There, I have now, 
 and I promised Aunt Bessie I would try 
 not to." And Butterfly looked discom- 
 fited. 
 
 " You didn't use it for an exclamation, 
 though. See, there is a line of donkey- 
 carts ; and there comes another carriage — 
 a funny little single hack, drawn by one 
 horse ; and — hush, Butterfly, I hear martial 
 music. I dare say some of her Majesty's 
 regiments are out. Come and see." 
 
 But though the music could be dis- 
 tinctly heard from every part of the house, 
 no soldiers were to be seen, and the chil- 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon. 207 
 
 drew, afraid of losing a sight, went for 
 leave to go out ; but Aunt Matilda was not 
 willing to have Guy and Butterfly alone 
 for the first time in the streets of a large 
 city, and the elder members of the party 
 preferred quiet rest in their room at home 
 for this morning. So the children were 
 just making up their minds to amuse 
 themselves as they best could, with the 
 sights to be seen from the windows of the 
 ample parlors, when a servant coming in, 
 with what Guy called a great flourish, 
 said: 
 
 "Master Henry Tappan sends his 
 card," presenting a small, neat card, " and 
 if the young lady and gentleman are dis- 
 engaged he would be happy to see them." 
 
 " Disengaged of course we are," said 
 Guy, eagerly. " Where is he?" 
 
208 Trip to Montreal 
 
 "In the carriage at the hotel door,'' 
 said the waiter. 
 
 " Tell him to come on," said Guy, very 
 unceremoniously. Then, as soon as the 
 waiter had gone, turning to Butterfly : " I 
 dare say he will come with four men in 
 knee-breeches and crimson plush, and 
 turn out to be the Prince of Wales." 
 
 " Knee-breeches and crimson plush ?" 
 asked Butterfly, looking in Guy's face in a 
 very puzzled way. 
 
 " Yes, that is the way the grand 
 English people dress up their servants. 
 Some people in New York imitate them — 
 make popinjays of them." 
 
 " Popinjays !" repeated Butterfly, again, 
 growing more and more puzzled. 
 
 " How funny you do repeat !" said Guy, 
 
Hal ads as Chaperon. 209 
 
 laughing. " Did you never hear of a pop- 
 nrjay? 
 
 " No, never ; but it is no matter. Theie 
 he is, and I don't see any knee-breeches 
 or crimson plush." 
 
 Had Butterfly been any less glad to see 
 Hal, there would have been a shade of dis- 
 appointment in her face, as the boy came 
 bounding into the parlor ; but now the 
 reception the two waiting children gave 
 him was warm enough to satisfy any 
 one. 
 
 " I've brought my father's carriage, and 
 
 he places it, with his compliments, at 
 
 your disposal for the day," said Hal, after 
 
 a few minutes. " If you like, we will go 
 
 out sight-seeing. I wanted to come in 
 
 the clog-cart with the ponies, and father 
 
 said I might, but it would be nicer to 
 14 
 
210 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 have the carriage, if any of the ladies 
 would like to go with us." 
 
 The invitation was so formally given, 
 that the children were at first a little dif- 
 fident about accepting it. They said they 
 would ask leave. In a few minutes they 
 came back ready to go, those in authority 
 being very glad to have them sight-see 
 under such favorable circumstances. 
 
 Butterfly was a little awed when she 
 saw the handsome carriage and the two 
 large horses ; but perhaps less with them 
 than with the coachman and footman, 
 dressed, not in a harlequin style, but in 
 plain black, with white gloves, and what 
 Butterfly was sure must be a silver band 
 around their hats. 
 
 "First to the cathedral," said Hal, as 
 they were ready to start. " That makes a 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon, 211 
 
 good beginning. no — drive around the 
 city, John. You know better than I do 
 what strangers like to see." 
 
 "Very well, sir," said John, touching 
 his hat. 
 
 The children now began to talk so 
 busily that I doubt whether they would 
 have remembered there was anything to 
 see, if John had not looked back into the 
 carnage, and said : 
 
 " Here is the Methodist church ; it has 
 one of the finest organs in the city." 
 
 " But it is never played, excepting on a 
 Sunday," said Hal, "so that doesn't do 
 us any good." 
 
 " Here is a Music Hall, holds a thousand 
 people." 
 
 "Is that all?" said Guy, a little con- 
 temptuously. " We have " Then he 
 
212 Trip to Montreal 
 
 stopped short. His mother had charged 
 him before he came out not to compare a 
 single thing he saw while with Hal with 
 what he had seen at home. She told 
 him it was neither courteous nor pleasant 
 to do so. 
 
 " Molson's Bank," said John next. 
 
 " Oh ! how handsome," said Butterfly, 
 looking out with delight at its showy 
 exterior. 
 
 "Caverhill Building." 
 
 " Stores, I see," said Guy. 
 
 " Drive through St. Paul's," said Hal. 
 
 The coachman touched his hat again, 
 and turned into a street filled at this hour 
 of the morning with all the bustle and 
 crowd usually to be found in the principal 
 business street of a large city. 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon. 213 
 
 "You should see Broadway," Guy was 
 tempted to say, but lie did not. 
 
 Butterfly laughed out every now and 
 then as she saw something entirely new, 
 but otherwise was too much occupied and 
 amused to talk ; indeed, the boys found it 
 very difficult to get even an answer to 
 their questions. 
 
 So many buildings did John point out in 
 the course of the hour, while the great 
 black horses were carrying them around 
 the city, that Butterfly's mind began to be 
 full of banks jostling churches, and 
 churches pushing about universities, and 
 universities crowding down nunneries, and 
 nunneries turning into hospitals ; so she 
 was very glad when at last John stopped 
 before a large stone building, and said : 
 
 " This is the cathedral." 
 
214 Trip to Montreal 
 
 " We must do tliat up, of course. I have 
 been in here a hundred times, and if I 
 live long shall be in as many more," said 
 Hal ; "but I am never tired of it." 
 
 The footman got down from the back of 
 the carriage, and opened the door, holding 
 his hand out to help Butterfly, but she 
 jumped down like a little kitten, though 
 she did not forget to say " Thank you." 
 
 When the massive door was opened, and 
 the children stepped within the great 
 church, Butterfly stopped short. She had 
 been at church in Frostland all her life — 
 a neat, simple little meeting-house, four 
 like which could have been put easily 
 within this. 
 
 But here was a vast building, so large 
 that Butterfly, standing by one of the 
 doors that opened upon the street, where 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon. 215 
 
 their carriage had left them, could hardly 
 see to the end of it, and instead of having 
 only the four plain walls, a pulpit, and a 
 little gallery for the choir, here were pillars 
 upon pillars, galleries above galleries, 
 pulpits everywhere. 
 
 " Pictures — real live pictures !" These 
 were Butterfly's first words, catching hold 
 of Guy's arm as she spoke. 
 
 " Yes, about as live as pictures ever 
 are," said Hal, laughing. " Some of these 
 are very fine. Look there, now. There 
 is one of Jesus walking on the water : or 
 no, I don't know what they are about, but 
 they are all on sacred subjects. Mr. Niles 
 says some are copies of the great masters. 
 We will take them deliberately and do it 
 up well.*' 
 
 fi Do it up how T* asked Butterfly. 
 
216 Trip to Montreal, 
 
 " That means, see it thoroughly," said 
 vjruy. " My father says that if a thing is 
 worth seeing at all, it is worth seeing 
 well." 
 
 " So does Mr. Niles, and he makes me, 
 too. Now, come on. They are having 
 mass at the other end of the cathedral. 
 Did you ever go to mass?" 
 
 " No," said both children together. 
 
 " We will go up there, then, and see the 
 rest afterwards," said Hal. " Never mind 
 the people we pass. They are saying 
 their prayers, but we shall not disturb 
 them ; they look up, and go on just the 
 same." So Hal led the way through the 
 centre of the cathedral, the others follow- 
 ing; Butterfly meaning to walk on her 
 toes and make no noise, but forgetting it 
 every other step, in her interest, and id thfl 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon. 217 
 
 end making quite as much as either of 
 the boys. 
 
 Many of the kneeling people looked 
 up, bowed, and smiled as the pretty child 
 stole by them, but did not stop their 
 prayers. To one old woman who bade 
 her " good-morning " in French in between 
 the words of her " Ave," Butterfly, sup- 
 posing she was asking her a question, 
 stopped, and said "Ma'am?" but the 
 woman only smiled, and held out her 
 hand 
 
 " She wants something," said Butterfly, 
 whispering to Hal. 
 
 "Yes, they all do. You will have as 
 many hands held out as you meet beggars 
 in Montreal. The city is full of them." 
 
 " Beggars !" said Butterfly, turning 
 
218 Triv to Montreal. 
 
 round and looking at the woman. " She 
 is in church." 
 
 " That don't matter. They beg pray- 
 ing, and eating, and drinking, waking and 
 sleeping, I believe. It's nothing but beg, 
 beg, beg." 
 
 " Poor things !" said Butterfly. 
 
 " Lazy things," said Hal. 
 
 " Are they?" asked Butterfly. 
 
 " Yes ; there is work enough everywhere 
 to support everybody who is not sick, my 
 father says," added Guy. 
 
 The children might have occupied them- 
 selves some time longer, discussing this 
 somewhat difficult question of pauperism, 
 if Butterfly had not at that moment 
 caught sight of a priest swinging a censer. 
 
 " dear, Guy, look ! That man dressed 
 so queer swings something; and do see. 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon. 219 
 
 the people bow and courtesy. What 
 for?" 
 
 " That is part of the Catholic worship," 
 said Hal. " Now watch them. We will 
 sit down here." 
 
 So the children seated themselves near 
 the part of the church where the services 
 were proceeding, and Butterfly, who had 
 never been within a church of this kind 
 before, was very much interested in all 
 that was done. 
 
 She, of course, was too young to under- 
 stand what theologians might condemn. 
 She saw and heard what was passing, and 
 nothing more. 
 
 After the mass was ended the great 
 organ ri anottier part of the church began 
 to plr.y, d\v\ they hurried to the place 
 whsre ; t vss ; Butterfly pulling Guy's 
 
223 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 sleeve to have him look at this, that, and 
 the other tiling, all the way. 
 
 I don't think the child carried home to 
 her aunts, after a long morning spent in 
 seeing, any very distinct account of what 
 she saw ; but she did remember, in this 
 noted cathedral of Notre Dame, the pil- 
 lars, the pictures, the little rooms set 
 apart for the confessional, and, more than 
 anything else, the size and solemn still- 
 ness, which seemed to her almost like 
 separate things. 
 
 After seeing the interior of the church, 
 Hal led the way into the tower of the 
 cathedral; and Butterfly found herself 
 climbing up, stair after stair, until, as she 
 told Guy, she expected to come out among 
 the stars ; but she was only above the city 
 of Montreal, where she could see not only 
 
Hal acts as Chaperon. 221 
 
 the whole city, but much of the surround- 
 ing country. 
 
 "That is worth coming to see," said 
 Guy, with admiration. " I thank you 
 very much, Hal. When you come to 
 New York, I shall be glad to show you 
 our best, though for a view I do not think 
 we have anything to equal this." 
 
 " Then we will end our sight-seeing 
 to-day," said Hal, "or rather, this morning. 
 After dinner, if you would like. I will come 
 with my dog-cart, and drive you round the 
 mountain. That is the drive of all others 
 in Montreal. Back to the St. Lawrence 
 Hall, now, John !" 
 
 So the black horses trotted in their 
 stately way once more to the hotel, and 
 the first person Butterfly saw as the 
 
222 
 
 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 carriage stopped was Aunt Bessie, looking 
 out of the parlor window in search of her. 
 " I am glad to see you back," said Aunt 
 Bessie, smiling and nodding. 
 
 ^eg 
 
 i^e*- 
 
XII. 
 
 GOOD-BY. 
 
 1FOEE the hotel dinner was 
 through, Hal made his appear- 
 ance in his dog-cart at the door. 
 Butterfly had expected to see a carriage 
 similar to the one Charlie had described 
 as being a present to him from Marie's 
 father ; but to her surprise, here was only 
 a small wagon, with two bay ponies har- 
 nessed into it. 
 
 "Oh, how beautiful!" she exclaimed, 
 stopping on the steps and clapping her 
 hands, much to the amusement of the 
 lookers-on. " A real live dog-cart, drawn 
 
 (223) 
 
224 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 by ponies ; and " — catching sight for the 
 first time of a little girl seated demurely 
 on the back seat — "and Margaret too!" 
 
 One bound down the remainder of the 
 steps, and Butterfly was clambering into 
 the cart, with no other idea but the one 
 of kissing Margaret as soon as she could. 
 
 The boys laughed, so did the man who 
 stood at the head of the horses. Margaret 
 heard them, but I question whether 
 Butterfly did, or would have cared if she 
 had. 
 
 A very merry-looking carriage-full they 
 made. As they drove down the street 
 many turned to admire the ponies and 
 cart, the four happy children, and the two 
 servants on horseback — one, Hal's man; 
 and the other, the footman in the green 
 
Good-by. 225 
 
 coat and knee-breeches, whose looks had 
 so much amused Butterfly. 
 
 The ride around the mountain was a 
 fine one. Hal and Margaret knew every- 
 thing there was to be seen. I should like 
 to take my young readers there also, but 
 our story is now as long as it should be, 
 and so I must pass over this and many 
 other objects of interest which the whole 
 party visited, to a nunnery where children 
 without any fathers or mothers are taken 
 and brought up in the Catholic religion. 
 
 "When Butterfly was told they were to 
 
 go to a nunnery, Aunt Bessie explained 
 
 to her that the nuns did not dress as other 
 
 people do, but put themselves into straight 
 
 black dresses with little tight sleeves, and 
 
 a white neckerchief pinned over the 
 
 waist of their dresses. Then they had 
 15 
 
226 Trip to Montreal 
 
 their hair cut off, and wore an odd cap 
 with a big crown and a deep, white frill. 
 In the picture Butterfly once saw of a 
 nun she had her hands crossed over her 
 breast, and a rosary round her neck, with 
 a cross on the end of it. Butterfly 
 thought she had a very sad face, and had 
 dreaded going where she should see any 
 living, until Aunt Bessie told her that the 
 sisters who belonged to the nunnery they 
 were now to visit had collected a great 
 many little children together whom it 
 would be pleasant to see. 
 
 Butterfly remembered the " Home for 
 Destitute Children" in Burlington, and 
 what a nice time she had in visiting that ; so 
 she summoned all her courage, as she did 
 when she was going to see the Indians, 
 and went up the steps and into the long, 
 
Good-by. 227 
 
 still halls, without saying to any one how 
 afraid she was. 
 
 They were taken directly to a school- 
 room not unlike many others, where the 
 boys and girls old enough to be taught 
 were ranged, the boys on one side of the 
 room, the girls on the other ; and here 
 were four of the nuns as teachers. One 
 of them, as soon as she saw Butterfly, 
 came to her and took hold of her hand. 
 Butterfly trembled a little as she did so, 
 but when she found it was warm and 
 tender, " almost," she said to herself, " like 
 Aunt Bessie's," all fear left her, and from 
 that moment she began to enjoy herself. 
 
 "The children look so oddly," she 
 whispered to Guy the first time she could 
 come near enough to him to speak. 
 
 " The boys look as if they had walked 
 
228 Trip to Montreal 
 
 out of a primer," said Guy ; " blue home- 
 spun, I know." 
 
 "And the girls," said Butterfly, "look 
 like the picture of John Rogers' children, 
 when he was burned at the stake, you 
 remember." 
 
 " Yes," said Guy, " so they do. Nine 
 of them : long blue homespun again, short 
 waists, short hair, wooden shoes." 
 
 " Wooden shoes !" said Butterfly. 
 
 " I should think so. Look there, now!" 
 
 A little boy walked across the room as 
 Guy spoke, and his feet went tramp, 
 tramp, tramp, precisely as they would 
 have done had his shoes been, as Guy 
 said, " made of wood." 
 
 Some recitations were carried on while 
 the children were there, but in French, 
 and very drony even in that lively Ian- 
 
Good-by. 229 
 
 guage. Guy tliought his teacher would 
 have said, " Wake up," and I rather think 
 he would. 
 
 After visiting a variety of other rooms, 
 kitchen, laundry, dining-rooms, where Guy 
 pointed out the tin pint cup and wooden 
 spoon with which each child large enough 
 to go to the table fed itself, they came to 
 the room where the babies were ; and of 
 this Butterfly will never be tired talking, 
 for there were fifty babies here, all dressed 
 alike, and, as she said, over and over 
 again : 
 
 " All dressed just like play-servant 
 dolls, all but the caps." 
 
 These little creatures of every age, 
 from two days to as many years, wore 
 blue homespun dresses, loose, with just a 
 string around the throat to draw them up 
 
230 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 close, long sleeves, snug to the tiny arms, 
 and on their heads little white cotton caps 
 without any frill, just fitted tight to the 
 head, and tied under the chin with a tape- 
 string. 
 
 The nuns in their odd dresses, holding 
 the babies in theirs, made Butterfly a 
 great deal of amusement. At first, she 
 kept close by Aunt Bessie, but gradually 
 she became used to the sight, and soon 
 was running around as freely from one 
 baby to another as if she was going to 
 learn how and stay as nurse. To her 
 delight, she found the babies here just 
 like other little human children, crowing 
 and kicking, smiling and crying, eating 
 and drinking and sleeping, all with their 
 queer faces under the queer caps and 
 above the queer dresses ; " and queerest 
 
Good-by. • 231 
 
 of all," said Butterfly, talking the matter 
 over afterwards with Guy, "the beds with 
 the dots of white pillows and the blue 
 homespun bed-spreads, no bigger than 
 Susy Millet's baby -house bed at home." 
 
 Butterfly would like to have spent the 
 rest of the day here. She whispered the 
 request to Aunt Matilda, but her aunt said 
 " that the nunnery was only open for 
 inspection an hour each day, that the end 
 of the hour had come, and they must go ;" 
 so Butterfly began a series of kisses, 
 taking the first baby, and going down 
 the whole left-hand row. I think she 
 would have done the same on the right, if 
 the clock had not finished striking, and 
 Guy's mother, taking out her pocket-book, 
 deposited a present on the box placed 
 upon a table for contributors' use. This 
 
232 Trip to Montreal 
 
 said to Butterfly, " Now it is full time to 
 go," and Guy informed her her kisses 
 would keep until the next time. 
 
 There were many other places to be 
 seen in Montreal ; Hal to be visited in his 
 own home, and Margaret in hers ; excur- 
 sions by land and excursions by water. 
 Every day and hour of the time was used 
 up to its last moment, and in the course of 
 all many pleasant things occurred of 
 which I should like to tell my readers, but 
 I have not room. I must pass over what 
 remained to be seen, and come to the last 
 morning, when so much was to be done 
 that even quiet and prompt Aunt Matilda 
 began to feel that there was some doubt 
 whether they should be ready in time for 
 the cars. Hal and Margaret must be seen 
 and told " good-by ;" and then, you know, 
 
Good-by. 233 
 
 it took so long to make all those little 
 arrangements by which they should 
 "never, never, never forget each other;" 
 Guy and Hal must arrange a meeting at 
 Guy's home for the next summer; and 
 Guy must plan that Bertie and Bennie 
 should come at the same time. So Guy 
 said : 
 
 " We shall have a jolly time, I tell you 
 what, sir, with Tiger and Sprite, and the 
 ocean. Boys couldn't help it. Come on 
 and see !" 
 
 Margaret had brought a bunch of 
 English forget-me-nots with their loving- 
 blue eyes to Butterfly, and had let the 
 flowers speak the words first for her ; and 
 Butterfly had given Margaret one of her 
 golden curls, tied together with a blue 
 ribbon, and laid on a sheet of white paper, 
 
234 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 with " Forever " written in her best hand- 
 writing in the circle within the curl. 
 Then she had kissed it as she gave it to 
 her. Margaret had kissed the same spot 
 afterwards, and so the little girls were 
 never to forget, and to be friends forever. 
 
 This was the last of Butterfly's sight- 
 seeing for the present. For one day and 
 one day only she would travel with Guy 
 on her way to Frostland, and then — 
 Butterfly felt the tears coming into her 
 eyes every time she thought of the sep- 
 aration. I dare say she w r ould have 
 minded leaving Montreal and Hal and 
 Margaret a great deal more if this part- 
 ing had not been right before her. 
 
 When Montreal was left behind and 
 they were coming back to the United 
 States as fast as the cars could carry 
 
Good-by. 235 
 
 them, Butterfly could think or speak of 
 nothing but her misery at leaving Guy; 
 and as for Guy, though he tried to whistle 
 and hum, buy papers and read a line here 
 and there, buy candy, and pears, and very 
 green apples, nothing would suffice. Big 
 boy and manly as he was, leaving Butter- 
 fly, not to see her on the next morning, or 
 the next, or the next, was too much for 
 him. Every now and then something 
 came between him and the landscape, 
 something between him and the pretty 
 face he had learned to love so well, some- 
 thing that needed brushing out of his eyes, 
 and of which he felt very much ashamed, 
 only all the shame did not help him in the 
 least. 
 
 There had never been a ride when he 
 and Butterfly said so little. I am sure it 
 
236 Trip to Montreal. 
 
 was well it was no longer, for every mile 
 only added to their trouble ; and when the 
 conductor called out at last, " Frostland 
 station!" Guy was glad of the excuse 
 given him by the bustle of departure of 
 hiding his face away behind the pile of 
 bags and shawls which he politely carried 
 out for the aunts upon the platform ; and 
 when the bell rang, and the whistle 
 sounded, and he knew he must go, he had 
 no choice but to leap back again, call out, 
 " Remember next summer at the beach !" 
 and wave his hat as long as the figure of 
 the little girl, with her blue eyes and her 
 sweet, loving face, was to be seen. 
 
 As for Butterfly, I think her mother was 
 surprised and grieved, after her long sepa- 
 ration from her child, to have cheeks all 
 
Good-by. 
 
 237 
 
 wet with tears to kiss, and to hear among 
 the very first things : 
 
 " Oh, mamma, if you please, we are all 
 going to the seaside together next sum- 
 mer. May we, say, please, may we go ?"