f Dr. Kane to a guest at a
metropolitan hotel, in the midst of luxury, when the mosquito sings all
night in his ear, and his mutton-chop is overdone at breakfast. One
does not like to be set up for a hero in trifles, in odd moments, and in
inconspicuous places.

There were two passengers besides ourselves, inhabitants of Cape Breton
Island, who were returning from Halifax to Plaster Cove, where they were
engaged in the occupation of distributing alcoholic liquors at retail.
This fact we ascertained incidentally, as we learned the nationality
of our comrades by their brogue, and their religion by their lively
ejaculations during the night. We stowed ourselves into the rigid box,
bade a sorrowing good-night to the landlady and her daughters, who stood
at the inn door, and went jingling down the street towards the open
country.

The moon rises at eight o'clock in Nova Scotia. It came above the
horizon exactly as we began our journey, a harvest-moon, round and red.
When I first saw it, it lay on the edge of the horizon as if too
heavy to lift itself, as big as a cart-wheel, and its disk cut by a
fence-rail. With what a flood of splendor it deluged farmhouses and
farms, and the broad sweep of level country! There could not be a more
magnificent night in which to ride towards that geographical mystery of
our boyhood, the Gut of Canso.

A few miles out of town the stage stopped in the road before a
post-station. An old woman opened the door of the farmhouse to receive
the bag which the driver carried to her. A couple of sprightly little
girls rushed out to "interview" the passengers, climbing up to ask their
names and, with much giggling, to get a peep at their faces. And upon
the handsomeness or ugliness of the faces they saw in the moonlight they
pronounced with perfect candor. We are not obliged to say what their
verdict was. Girls here, no doubt, as elsewhere, lose this trustful
candor as they grow older.

Just as we were starting, the old woman screamed out from the door, in
a shrill voice, addressing the driver, "Did you see ary a sick man 'bout
'Tigonish?"

"Nary."

"There's one been round here for three or four days, pretty bad off; 's
got the St. Vitus's. He wanted me to get him some medicine for it up to
Antigonish. I've got it here in a vial, and I wished you could take it
to him."

"Where is he?"

"I dunno. I heern he'd gone east by the Gut. Perhaps you'll hear of
him." All this screamed out into the ni