strangers will find themselves placed below those whom they would have been classed above in the Mother Country. The hotels are good, and after the fashion of the United States, the inmates commonly dine at a table d'hote, which often affords to the visitor the opportunity of meeting with interesting characters."

Willis, of course, has suggestions on emigration from the old country. They are very precise and full of warnings of what not to do.

Talking of what he quaintly calls "Sporting in Canada," he has some wild bear yarns to spin, mostly taken from Talbot's letters. And, of course, he has to quote at length on the beauties of the Niagara Falls. No writer on America escapes it, any more, as Mr. Charles Roberts once remarked, than the writer on Italy forgets Venice. Willis also quotes from the same writer the following description of Toronto:

"York (Toronto) is the seat of government for Upper Canada, and is situated on the north side of Lake Ontario. Its harbour, which is a very extensive one, is formed by a long, narrow peninsula, commonly called Gibraltar Point. Its defenceless situation, which cannot be much im

proved, renders it of little importance in time of war. The garrison is about a mile west of the town, and consists of a barrack for the troops, a residence for the commanding officer, a battery, and two block-houses, which are intended for the protection of the harbour. In the year

1793 there was only one wigwam on the present site of the town. The streets of the capital are regularly laid out, intersecting each other at right angles. Only one of them, however, is yet completely built; and in wet weather, the unfinished streets are, if possible, muddier and dirtier than those of Kingston. The situation of the town is very unhealthy, for it stands on a piece of low marshy land, which is better calculated for a frog-pond. or beaver meadow, than for the residence of human beings. The inhabitants are. on this account, much subject, particularly in spring and autumn, to agues and intermittent fevers; and, probably, five-sevenths of the people are annually afflicted with these complaints. He who first fixed upon this spot as the site of the Capital of Upper Canada, whatever predilection he may have had for the roaring frogs, or for the effluvia arising from stagnant waters and putrid vegetables, can certainly have had no very great regard for preserving the lives of His Majesty's subjects. The town possesses one great advantage, however, which is that of a good, though defenceless, harbour."

N

O, siree, the rising generation will never learn to play checkers," the Major said with finality, addressing in general the company, grouped in attitudes of dejection round the big stove in Ezra Gook's store at Caldon West.

These remarks, received with that profound attention and respect always accorded the obiter dicta of a master, Major Warford adjusted his spectacles, tilted back his squirrel-fur cap, stroked his white whiskers, straightened his form to its accustomed six feet, and strode to the window overlooking Main Street.

"I wonder if that checker man is coming or not? A nice how-de-do," he continued, with mingled fierceness and benevolence, "expecting me to go to Beaminster House, and play him there. I'd like him to understand, I am checker champion of Palgrave county, and, as such, it's up to me to name place and time, and I always name Ex. Gook's store."

It was generally believed in local checker circles that the Major played a better game in a store, amid an olla podrida of fragrant and homely smells.

"They tell me, "the Major resumed, "he makes it a rule to play but one game; quite young, too, they

say.

The "he" Major Warford referred to, was a young man, one of a party detained in Caldon by a snow-bound

use

an expression current in local checker circles, had "skunked" them. To make matters worse, one of the stranger's companions had remarked with a knowing smile that Smith could make short work of any two of the Caldon men with a bandage over his eyes. Then it was that the Major's name was mentioned with subdued, sinful pride, and, after much haggling, and calling up on 'phones, and ringing of 'phone bells, the strange Mr. Smith had agreed to go the next day to Gook's store and play the Major a game, providing his train did not leave in the interim. This

acceptance of their challenge pleased the challengers mightily, for the Major was the most beloved man in the whole fair county of Palgrave. Steeped in all the lore and literature of checkers, he loved the game. To him it was a sacrament, a communion of intellect. For miles round Caldon, on the hill settlements, and on the rolling plains, he was acknowledged to be the one person in the county who knew what was "ruleable" in checkers and what was not. Strangers from neighbouring counties, and even from Toronto, writhing under defeat, administered in masterly fash

ion by the Major, consoled themselves by misquoting Spenser, to the effect that skill in checkers argued a misspent youth, whereat Major Warford smiled winningly and gently corrected the misquotation.

The Major had attained his majority, not on the snowy-tented, emerald fields of Niagara, but in a far more creditable way, by popular favour. He had, in days long gone, been in the crack militia regiment, the 200th Foot, (Coon-catchers); but, owing, it is popularly believed in the county, to gross dereliction of duty on the part of officials in the Militia Department at Ottawa, he had never risen beyond the rank of sergeant, and his friends and neighbours, with one voice, gave him his honourary commission with the rank of major, and major he had stayed ever since.

66

And you have not been able to find out who this checker-playing stranger is, Nosey, eh?" Ez. Gook questioned.

"No; I ain't, Ez.; but you bet I will, if there is any find-out to it," responded Nosey Willet, whose nickname did not hinge on his personal appearance, but rather on his belief in the irrevocable and inalienable right of every good citizen to possess a full and profound knowledge of his neighbour's business.

"There they come, someone ventured timidly, as a muffled stamping of shoes was heard on the stoop.

The Major shivered slightly, a close student of history, and an ardent admirer of the great Napoleon, he was wont to say that every man met his Waterloo or his Wagram, and often, in moments of reverie he wondered if a checker-player would ever appear in Caldon who would defeat him; for in his heart of hearts, and in spite of the enthusiastic belief of his admirers, he knew he was not a strictly scientific checker-player. If this man Smith should be the Wellington of the local checker world-he trembled at the thought. As befitting a champion, however, he bore himself as a

master, when the great Mr. Smith surrounded by a sycophantic group of fellow-travellers was conveyed over to the big stove and introduced to the old master.

"They tell me you play a good game of dra-I-er-mean checkers, Major, eh?" Smith queried, in a deep musical voice.

The Major disclaimed any ability as a checker-player, but admitted he played the game. He adjusted his spectacles, and surveyed the young man thoughtfully. Where had he seen that face before? The commanding forehead, the wide-set, luminous black eyes, and the downward, compelling sweep of the nose. The face reminded him strangely, whether in features or expression, he could not decide, of an engraving of Burns that hung in the study of the old manse where he was born, in a hill-flanked hamlet, in the heart of old Ontario. His heart warmed to the lad. They shook hands. A board was solemnly produced, the checkers arranged, and the game commenced.

The stranger's opening appeared to the Major commonplace. With trembling hands the old man made each move he feared his Waterloo. As the game progressed, however, his confidence returned, and with two men more than his opponent, he knew that by judiciously "manning off" he would win; the stranger was not so formidable, after all, he told himself. When Smith, shortly afterwards, fell into a trap, the Caldon champion was inclined to be patronizing. The spectators guffawed. Outside the snow fell heavily. In a room at the rear of the store, Hetty Gook, the storekeeper's daughter, home from boarding-school, at the county town, played old Scotch melodies, sweet and penetrating as the odour of crab blossoms. The Major's hand fluttered hawk-like over the board, about to give his opponent a man, and lead him into another trap, when looking up he saw the young man's brilliant, magnetic eyes, searching

his face with a curious, sad, yearning expression.

He looked more like Burns than ever, the Major thought. His heart smote him. He was a man of the world, he reflected; he could read faces, the lad was meeting his Waterloo, knew it, and was sorry for himself. Oh, the bitterness of defeat! Softly from the back room floated out the strains of "Afton Water." The stranger made a half-turn toward the room, as if in mute protest; again his eyes searched the Major's face.

Major Warford paused, he withdrew his hand from the man; he was three men to. the good. Should he do it? Another covert glance at the sad face-yes, he would. He purposely bungled a move, and gave his opponent a man.

There arose a murmur of disapproval, almost drowning the haunting melody of the piano-the black eyes of the stranger flashed a puzzled question.

The Major frowned; was the action of a master to be criticized by an ignorant crowd? Soon the frownwrinkles faded from his face, and he forgot his unmanly weakness. Stretching out a steady hand he gave his opponent a man, took three, and the

game was won.

The stranger congratulated him, a curious smile adorning his deeplychiselled face.

"A verra gude mon," he said affably and ambiguously, speaking in the Scottish dialect for the first time since his arrival at the store, and after putting on his fur overcoat, he shook hands warmly with the Major, and stepped out into the twilight, followed by his dejected friends and Nosey Willet.

Then arose a mighty roar of cheering from the boys. They seized the Major's chair, and up to the rafters he went. They were preparing for a second elevation, when in rushed Nosey Willet.

"Major, Major," he shouted, "that young man you played checkers with is Willie Woderson, the professional checker champion of Scotland, on his way from the North to Toronto to play a serious of exhibition games.

From the ceiling the old man gazed down through blurred glasses at Pete. "Series, Pete, my boy-s-e-r-i-e-s," he corrected.

His happiness was complete. Outside a train crashed southward through the gathering storm.

PEUTHBERY