I make a note. 'All clergy--I think you said _all_, did you
not?--drunk at seven in the morning.' Deplorable! But here we are at the
Union Station--commodious, is it not? Justly admired, in fact, all over
the known world. Observe," he continued as we alighted from the train
and made our way into the station, "the upstairs and the downstairs,
connected by flights of stairs; quite unique and most convenient: if
you don't meet your friends downstairs all you have to do is to look
upstairs. If they are not there, you simply come down again. But stop,
you are going to walk up the street? I'll go with you."

At the outer door of the station--just as I had remembered it--stood a
group of hotel bus-men and porters.

But how changed!

They were like men blasted by a great sorrow. One, with his back turned,
was leaning against a post, his head buried on his arm.

"Prince George Hotel," he groaned at intervals. "Prince George Hotel."

Another was bending over a little handrail, his head sunk, his arms
almost trailing to the ground.

"_King Edward_," he sobbed, "_King Edward_."

A third, seated on a stool, looked feebly up, with tears visible in his
eyes.

"Walker House," he moaned. "First-class accommodation for--" then he
broke down and cried.

"Take this handbag," I said to one of the men, "to the _Prince George_."

The man ceased his groaning for a moment and turned to me with something
like passion.

"Why do you come to _us_?" he protested. "Why not go to one of the
others. Go to _him_," he added, as he stirred with his foot a miserable
being who lay huddled on the ground and murmured at intervals,
"_Queen's_! Queen's Hotel."

But my new friend, who stood at my elbow, came to my rescue.

"Take his bags," he said, "you've got to. You know the by-law. Take it
or I'll call a policeman. You know _me_. My name's Narrowpath. I'm on
the council."

The man touched his hat and took the bag with a murmured apology.

"Come along," said my companion, whom I now perceived to be a person of
dignity and civic importance. "I'll walk up with you, and show you the
city as we go."

We had hardly got well upon the street before I realized the enormous
change that total prohibition had effected. Everywhere were the bright
smiling faces of working people, laughing and singing at their tasks,
and, early though it was, cracking jokes and asking one another riddles
as they worked.

I noticed one man, evidently a city employe, in