g our journey, I found that he deserved his celebrity for good
companionship, which was fully borne out on this occasion. He could,
indeed, speak well on any subject. He was full of sound information,
and overflowed with anecdote--in fact, his way of telling a story was
inimitable. He had a fund of wit, which seemed almost inexhaustible.

My fellow-travellers left me at Mr. Galt's house, near Burlington
Heights, where, after taking some refreshment, I again proceeded on my
journey, and ultimately reached Guelph on the afternoon of the second
day.

The situation of the town I found exceedingly pleasant, and well
watered. It was built in an angle, formed by the confluence of the
rivers Speed and Eramosa. The town-plot also abounds with copious
never-failing springs, of the purest water.

I found some twenty or thirty log-houses, about as many shanties, a
large frame-tavern building, a store, two blacksmiths' shops, and the
walls of two stone-buildings, one of which was intended, when finished,
for the company's office. Besides these edifices, Dr. Dunlop and Mr.
Prior had each a good house, and there was the Priory, a large log-
building, afterwards occupied by the superintendent. This was pretty
well, considering that a year only had elapsed since the first tree was
felled.

Mr. Galt, in his "Autobiography," has given an account of the founding
of the town of Guelph,* and how Mr. Prior, Dr. Dunlop, and himself, cut
down the first tree--a large sugar-maple, whereupon the Dr. produced a
flask of whiskey, and they named and drank success to the new town.
This was on St. George's day, April 23rd, 1827. Eighteen months after
this, by Mr. Galt's orders, I had the stump of that tree inclosed by a
fence, though, I make no doubt, it has long since decayed. The name of
the founder will, however, remain,--a better and more enduring
memorial.

[* "This name was chosen in compliment to the royal family, both
because I thought it auspicious in itself, and because I could not
recollect that it had ever been before used in all the king's
dominions."--Galt's Autobioography.]

On my arrival, I drove up to the only tavern in the place, a small log-
house, kept by one Philip Jones, an Englishman--or, rather, by his
wife--a buxom, bustling body, who was, undoubtedly, the head of the
establishment. In answer to my inquiry for lodgings, she courteously
informed me that she had neither bed nor blanket, but what was doubly
occupied, and,