vered rink. The Victoria Rink at Montreal is a
huge building, and was profusely decorated for the occasion with the
usual flags, wreaths of artificial foliage, and coloured lamps. An
American sculptor had modelled six colossal groups of statuary out of
wet snow, and these were ranged down either side of the rink. As they
froze, they took on the appearance and texture of white marble, and
were very effective. Round a cluster of arc-lights in the roof there
was a sort of revolving cage of different coloured panes of glass;
these threw variegated beams of light over the brilliant kaleidoscopic
crowd below. Previous Governors-General had, in opening the fete
shuffled shamefacedly down the centre of the rink in overshoes and fur
coats to the dais, but Lord and Lady Lansdowne, being both expert
skaters, determined to do the thing in proper Carnival style, and
arrived in fancy dress, he in black as a Duke of Brunswick, she as Mary
Queen of Scots, attended by her two boys, then twelve and fourteen
years old, as pages, resplendent in crimson tights and crimson velvet.
The band struck up "God Save the Queen," and down the cleared space in
the centre skimmed, hand-in-hand, the Duke of Brunswick and Mary Queen
of Scots, with the two pages carrying her train, all four executing a
"Dutch roll" in the most workman-like manner. It was really a very
effective entrance, and was immensely appreciated by the crowd of
skaters present. I represented a Shakespearean character, and had
occasion to note what very inadequate protection is afforded by blue
silk tights, with nothing under them, against the cold of a Canadian
February. One of the Aides-de-Camp had arrayed himself in white silk as
Romeo; being only just out from England, he was anything but firm on
his skates. Some malicious young Montrealers of tender age, noticing
this, deliberately bumped into him again and again, sending his
conspicuous white figure spinning each time. Poor Romeo's experiences
were no more fortunate on the rink than in the tragedy associated with
his name; by the end of the evening, after his many tumbles, his
draggled white silk dress suggested irresistibly the plumage of a
soiled dove.

A hill (locally known as "The Mountain") rises immediately behind
Montreal, the original Mont Real, or Mount Royal, from which the city
derives its name. This naturally lends itself to the formation of
toboggan slides, and one of them, the "Montreal Club Slide," was really
ter