rnest A. Leigh, of San
Francisco, a son of the second city clerk of Victoria, and who was
here on a visit to his niece, Mrs. George Simpson (customs). We of
course had a long talk over old times, the days of yore, the days of
'59. In looking over this old picture he exclaimed, "There is the
old church we went to! My father built it," and then I remembered the
fact. Well can I remember the old church, with its old-fashioned
windows, seats and gallery, and its organ that stood in the gallery,
facing the congregation. When I first remembered it, Mrs. Atwood, now
Mrs. Sidney Wilson, was organist, and I was organ-blower. Originally
it was played as a barrel organ, as it contained three barrels which
contained ten tunes each, but Mr. Seeley, the owner and proprietor of
the Australian House, at the north end of James Bay bridge, made and
adapted a keyboard to it, and Mrs. Wilson played it in the morning
and in the afternoon. In the evening the keyboard was removed, and
your humble servant ground out the hymn tunes as on a barrel organ.

It was in this gallery that I first met John Butts we have heard so
much of through Mr. Higgins. I remember Butts as a sleek,
respectable-looking young fellow with a nice tenor voice, which he
was not afraid to use, and he was quite an addition to the choir, of
which I was a juvenile member. In after years John fell from grace
and gave up the choir, and might have been heard singing as he walked
along the street, and not above taking fifty cents from someone well
able to give it. He was always cheerful and goodnatured, and if a
child were lost John would ring his bell and walk up and down calling
out the fact.

This view of the old city is taken from the rocks on the Indian
reserve, and in the foreground is a large building which occupied the
site of the present marine hospital. When first I remember this
building it was used as a lunatic asylum. It is the only prominent
building shown on the reserve, with the exception of the Indian
lodges, which by the extent might accommodate easily two
thousand Indians. The harbor is full of shipping, taking up the whole
frontage from the Hudson's Bay Company's wharf north, which is the
only one distinctly to be seen in the view. The vessels reach to the
bridge across the harbor.

At anchor is the historic _Beaver_, and steaming out of the
harbor is the British steamer _Forward_. On the Hudson's Bay
Company's wharf is a large shed or house. I do not see