," and which "thinketh no evil," lived within him now, and made
him slow to see, and slower still to comment upon the faults and foibles
of others with the sharpness that used to excite the mirth of the lads
long ago. Not that he had forgotten how to criticise, and that severely
too, whatever he thought deserved it, or would be the better for it, as
Will had good reason to know before he had done much in the way of
"showing him Canada," but he far more frequently surprised them all by
his gentle tolerance towards what might be displeasing to him, and by
his quick appreciation of whatever was admirable in all he saw.

The first few days of sightseeing were passed in the city and its
environs. With the town itself he was greatly pleased. The great grey
stone structures suited him well, suggesting, as they often do to the
people accustomed to houses of brick or wood, ideas of strength and
permanence. But as he was usually content with an outside view of the
buildings, with such a view as could be obtained by a slow drive through
the streets, the town itself did not occupy him long. Then came the
wharves and ships; then they visited the manufactories and workshops,
lately become so numerous in the neighbourhood of the canal. All these
pleased and interested him greatly, but he never failed, when
opportunity offered, to point out various particulars, in which he
considered the Montrealers "a _leetle_ behind the times." On the whole,
however, his appreciation of British energy and enterprise was admiring
and sincere, and as warmly expressed as could be expected under the
circumstances.

"You've got a river, at any rate, that about comes up to one's ideas of
what a river ought to be--broad and deep and full," he said to Arthur
one day. "It kind of satisfies one to stand and look at it, so grand
and powerful, and still always rolling on to the sea."

"Yes, it is like your Father of Waters," said Arthur, a little surprised
at his tone and manner.

"One wouldn't be apt to think of mills and engines and such things at
the first glimpse of that. I didn't see it the day when I crossed it,
for the mist and rain. To-day, as we stood looking down upon it, I
couldn't but think how it had been rolling on and on there, ever since
creation, I suppose, or ever since the time of Adam and Eve--if the date
ain't the same, as some folks seem to think."

"I always think how wonderful it must have seemed to Jacques Cartier and
his