ch subsequently I had with this gentleman at our
hotel, I discovered that he was more obliging in his general capacity of
politician and prominent citizen than he was in his particular duties of
customs collector. Like many other instances of the kind in the United
States, his was a case of evident unfitness for the post he held. A.
socially smaller man would have made a much better customs official.
Unfortunately for the comfort of the public, the remuneration attached to
appointments in the postal and customs departments is frequently very
large, and these situations are eagerly sought as prizes in the lottery
of political life-prizes, too, which can only be held for the short term
of four years. As. A consequence, the official who holds his situation by
right of political service rendered to the chief of the predominant
clique or party in his state does not consider that he owes to the public
the service of his office. In theory he is a public servant; in reality
he becomes the master of the public. This is, however, the fault of the
system and not of the individual.

CHAPTER THREE

Bunker--New York--Niagara-Toronto-Spring--time in Quebec--A Summons--A
Start--In good Company--Stripping a Peg--An Expedition--Poor Canada--An
Old Glimpse at a New Land--Rival Routes--Change of Masters--The Red River
Revolt--The Halfbreeds--Early Settlers-Bungling--"Eaters of Pemmican-"-M.
Louis Riel--The Murder of Scott

When a city or a nation has but one military memory, it clings to it with
all the affectionate tenacity of an old maid for her solitary poodle or
parrot. Boston-supreme over any city in the Republic-can boast of
possessing one military memento: she has the Hill of Bunker. Bunker has
long passed into the bygone; but his hill remains, and is likely to
remain for many a long day. It is not improbable that the life, character
and habits, sayings, even the writings of Bunker-perhaps he couldn't
write!-are familiar to many persons in the United States; but it is in
Boston and Massachusetts that Bunker holds highest carnival. They keep in
the Senate-chamber of the Capitol, nailed over the entrance doorway in
full sight of the Speaker's chair, a drum, a musket, and a mitre-shaped
soldier's hat-trophies of the fight fought in front of the low earthwork
on Bunker's Hill. Thus the senators of Massachusetts have ever before
them visible reminders of the glory of their fathers: and I am not sure
that these former belongings