disappears into his bank and Milady drives on to the Government house to
read before the Literary Club a paper on Browning's _Saul_. To the
tenderfoot from the South it is all delightfully disconcerting--oxen and
autos and Browning on the Saskatchewan!

The Sunday before we leave Edmonton I find another set of tents, put up
by the Immigration Department, where East-End Londoners are housed
pending their going out upon the land. In the first call I make I
unearth a baby who rejoices in the name of Hester Beatrice Cran.
"H.B.C.," I remark, "aren't you rather infringing on a right, taking
that trade-mark?" Quick came the retort, "Ho! If she gets as good a 'old
on the land as the 'Udson's Bay Company 'as, she'll do!"

Another lady in the next tent proudly marshalled her olive branches.
"D'isy and the baiby were born in the Heast Hend. They're Henglish;
please God they'll make good Canaidians. They're tellin' me, miss,
there'll be five 'undred more of us on the 'igh seas comin' out to
Hedmonton from the Heast Hend, all poor people like ourselves. I often
wonder w'y they don't bring out a few dukes to give the country a touch
of 'igh life--it's very plain 'ere."

By the first day of June we have our kit complete and are ready to
leave. We have tried to cut everything down to the last ounce, but still
the stuff makes a rather formidable array. What have we? Tent,
tent-poles, typewriter, two cameras, two small steamer-trunks, bedding
(a thin mattress with waterproof bottom and waterproof extension-flaps
and within this our two blankets), a flour-bag or "Hudson's Bay
suit-case" (containing tent-pegs, hatchet, and tin wash-basin), two
raincoats, a tiny bag with brush and comb and soap--and last, but yet
first, the kodak films wrapped in oilcloth and packed in biscuit-tins.