he Kettle Falls, Miss Jay.'

She thought the appellation very undignified.

'The finest building sites are on this Barracks Hill,' observed Mr.
Holt, relapsing into contemplation. 'But Government won't give them up:
it is to be a sort of Acropolis, commanding the whole position at the
fork of the three rivers, and the double mass of houses on both sides.
Bytown hasn't seen its best days yet, by a long chalk, I guess.'

'I thought it was called Ottawa,' said Jay inquiringly.

'Well, madam, in this country, when cities arrive at the dignity of ten
thousand inhabitants, they are permitted to change their names. So a
town named York has very properly become Toronto, and the town founded
by Colonel By has become Ottawa. But, as I was saying, its best days are
in the future: it must be the capital of the Canadas yet.'

Jay remembered that her geography book assigned that distinction to
Quebec and Montreal. Mr. Holt affirmed that the pre-eminence of these
must dwindle before this young city at their feet, which could be
captured by no _coup-de-main_ in case of war, and was at the head of
the natural land avenue to the great Lakes Huron and Superior.

'The ancient Indian route,' said he--'the only safe one if there were
war with the United States; and you may depend on it, if railways
take in the country, one of the greatest termini will be here, at the
headquarters of the lumber trade.'

His vaticination has been fulfilled. Lines of telegraph, rail, and
steamers radiate from Ottawa city as a centre, at this day. It has
successfully contended for the honour of being acknowledged capital
of the Canadas, and has been declared such by the decision of Queen
Victoria.

Lions in the way of antiquity it had none to show, being the veriest
mushroom of a capital; but Mr. Holt took his friends to see the great
sluice-works, the beautiful Suspension Bridge, the chain of locks
forming a water staircase on the Rideau canal, and one of the huge
sawmills turned by a rill from Chaudiere Falls, where Jay admired
immensely the glittering machinery of saws, chisels, and planes, and the
gay painting of the iron-work. Since then, the vast tubular bridge of
the Grand Trunk Railway spans the river, and is a larger lion than all
the rest.

CHAPTER XLIV.

SHOVING OF THE ICE.

We must pass over a year; for so long did Sam Holt continue in Europe.
Rambling over many countries, from the heather hills of Scotland and the
deep fiords o