Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1883-03-20

e selves, kneeling, rising again, and count
g ing their beads, in what appears such
confused aud meaningless manner, give u
more the impression of an idol service i
heather temple than of anything chris
tian. With heavy heart we turn away
but only TO visit another, smaller, yet ele
CANT church where the crowd Is so grea
that we can only stand in the door OF the
r vestibule and listen to strains of beautiful
music, and ponder upon the superstitution
which, even in this nineteenth century
gives the Catholic church such hold up
on its devotes for all of this was before
seven O'Clock of working-dsy morning
We pass the Post Office with its massive
granite columns, aud other fine public
building, and the Victoria and Nelson
monuments in two of the city squares,
and drive toward Sherbrooke St, the
home of the aristocracy. On the way we
meet procession of nearly one hundred
young ladies', walking two and two along
I
with large wells of white lace thrown cor
ner-wise over their heads, and held in
place By wreaths OF white flowers. With
bowed heads, and prayer-books in their
white-gloved hands. they are on their way
to morning mass from convent school
near by. The long line is led by priest
and teacher, and our driver tells US In
broken English, that they 90 In that way
every morning. Sherb-ook St., miles in
length, contains many fine mansions with
elaborate grounds, aud we return to our
dismal depot with the conviction that
Montreal, in the bracing air and bright
sunshine of May morning, is very
pleasant city.
Once more on our way, we notice with
interest the exquisitely cared for gardens
which surround the very meanest huts In
the little French hamlets. Much of the
country is barren and uninterestngi the
horses, cattle, aud sheep have half
starved look, and even the trees have n
discouraged air, with their thin leafless
branches which appear to have been mer-
cilessly blown In one direction all their
lives. Occasionally the panorama changes,
Al Swift-moving pictures OF fertile mead
ows. tinc farms, and banks of trilium, Of
pure white, or delicate pink, like the in
side Of shell, relieve the monOtOny out
side our car windows; while within, a
pretty little boy who lisps, affords great
amusement for his fellow-travellers, and
great perplexity 20 his grandmother, by
pouring fourth a perfect torrent OF ques-
lions; we thought we had seen inquisitive
children, but here was living, breathing,
Interrogation point, whom no amount of
wheedlng could divert.
Evening soon closes around us, but
full moon makes the landscape quite as
attractive As did the glare of the sunlight.
Here and there a gilded church-spire flash
es out from the surrounding gloom. Ere
long we reach the shores Of Ontario, and,
with warm wraps, betake ourselves 10 the
rear platform OF our sleeper, and for an hour
enjoy the exhilarating influence of the rap
idly rushing train, (Which is sixty min
utes behind time the frosty night air,
aud the bright moonlight reflected on the
ripping surface Of the lake Toronto, on
the lake shore is admirlngly described TO
H.. har N NJ
Canadian cities, and the only one laid out
in squares; II has made rapid growth, and
now has population of one hundred and
twenty-five thousand.
Morning finds Us at Port Sarnia; and in
the midst of drilling rain the cars are
run on the boat, and We move quietly
across the bright green waters of the st.
Clair river, and are once more in the
United States, where our own postals are
mailabe; one of those little missiyes,
given to our gentlemanly CONDUCTOR for
mailing, discovers 10 Us that he, too, is
from oxford CO., and was formerly stu
dent of Hebron Academy; aud no little
gossip over mutual friends follows.
From Port Huron our way lies along
the track OF the terrible forest fires of the
previous year; large trees, fallen across
each other at every angle, raise their great
roots high in air, like grim, fantastic spec
tres; many tall trees are still standing,
with charred and blackened trunks, aud
branches nearly gone. Here and there,
a. if TO make the loneliness OF the scene
more real, little log house stands bare
and cold amid the ruin aud the rain. AZ
ter little we emerge from this night
mare of desolation, into fields OF waving
grain, young orchards in full bloom, and
banks OF lovely wild flowers, many of
which are new to Eastern eyes.
Escaped from the barren level of the
Canadian landscape, the undulating, we'll
wooded lands of Michigan are pleasant to
behold; and the rich black soil explains
the thrift everywhere apparent The sea-
son is somewhat in advance of Maine
lilacs are in bloom, and corn and potatoes
up.
Now we enter region of magnilce Mt
| naples; scattered over the fields, lining
| the fences, or massed in beautiful groves.
Agaiq our track lies beside long stretches
OF swampy land, now entirely submerged,
aud the tangled growth of trees aud vines,
| iuterlacing in every direction above the
clear water, gives quite tropical air to
the scene. Passing Lansing, we have
fine view OF the State House, OF which
Michigan people are pardonably proud.
| The farther west We go, the more do we
who hail from New England feel the kin
ship of our common birth; which birth