city according to the modernity of their minds and
status.

The vigorousness of St. John is so definite that it got into our bones
though our visit was but one of hours. St. John, for us, represented
an extraordinary hustle. We arrived on the morning of Friday, August
15, after the one night when the sea had not been altogether our
friend; when the going had been "awfully kinky" (as the seasick one of
our party put it), and the spiral motif in the _Dauntless'_ wardroom
had been disturbing at meals.

CHAPTER III

ON THE TRAIN BETWEEN ST. JOHN AND HALIFAX

I

Next morning in the train we were awakened to an unexpected Sunday. It
was not an ordinary calm Sunday, but a Sunday with a hustle on, a
Canadian Sunday. There was no doubt about the bells, though they were
ringing with remarkable earnestness in their efforts to get Canadians
into church.

Lying in our sleeping sections, we were bewildered by the bells, and by
the fact that by human calendar the day should be Saturday. Then we
raised the little blinds that hung between our modesty and a world of
passing platforms, and found that we were in a junction (probably
Truro), with a very Saturday air, and that the church bells were on
engines.

It takes some time for the Briton to become accustomed to the
strangeness of bells on engines, and the fact, that, instead of
whistling, the engines also give a very lifelike imitation of a liner's
siren. The bells are tolled when entering a station, or approaching a
level crossing, and so on, and the siren note is, I think, a real
improvement on the ear-splitting whistle that harrows us in England.

Our first night on the Canadian National had been a prophecy of the
many comfortable nights we were to spend on Canadian railways. We had
been given an ordinary sleeping car of the long-distance service, but
as we had it to our masculine selves, the exercise of getting out of
our clothes and into bed, and out of our bed and into clothes, was an
ordinary human accomplishment, and not an athletic problem tinged with
embarrassment.

The Canadian sleeper is a roomy and attractive Pullman, with wide and
comfortable back to back seats, each internal pair called a section.
At night the seats are pulled together, and the padding at their backs
pulled down, so that a most efficient bed is formed. A section of the
roof lets down, resolving itself into an upper bunk, while long green
curtains from roof to floor, and wood panels