raordinary crowds, that we
correspondents grew hopeless before them. We despaired of being able
to convey adequately a sense of what was happening; "enthusiasm" was a
hard-driven word that day and during the next two, and we would have
given the world to find another for a change.

Since I returned I have heard sceptical people say that the stories of
these "great receptions" were vamped-up affairs, mere newspaper
manufacture. I would like to have had some of those sceptics in
Toronto with us on August 25th, 26th and 27th. It would have taught
them a very convincing and stirring lesson.

The crowds of the Exhibition ground were followed by crowds at the
Public Reception, an "extra" which the Prince himself had added to his
program. This was held at the City Hall. It had all the
characteristics of these democratic and popular receptions, only it was
bigger. Policemen had been drawn about the City Hall, but when the
people decided to go in, the police mattered very little. They were
submerged by a sea of men and women that swept over them, swept up the
big flight of steps and engulfed the Prince in a torrent, every
individual particle of which was bent on shaking hands. It was a
splendidly-tempered crowd, but it was determined upon that handshake.
And it had it. It was at Toronto that, as the Prince phrased it, "My
right hand was 'done in.'" This was how Toronto did it in.

III

The visit was not all strenuous affection. There were quiet backwaters
in which His Royal Highness obtained some rest, golfing and dancing.
One such moment was when on this day he crossed to the Yacht Club, an
idyllic place, on the sandspit that encloses the lagoon.

This club, set in the vividly blue waters of the great lake, is a
little gem of beauty with its smooth lawns, pretty buildings and fine
trees. It is even something more, for every handful of loam on which
the lawns and trees grow was transported from the mainland to make
fruitful the arid sand of the spit. The Prince had tea on the lawn,
while he watched the scores of brisk little boats that had followed him
out and hung about awaiting his return like a genial guard of honour.

There was always dancing in honour of the Prince, and always a great
deal of expectation as to who would be the lucky partners. His
partners, as I have said, had their photographs published in the papers
the next day. Even those who were not so lucky urged their cavaliers
to keep as clos