hen Chrysler's eyes rested on the village of
Dormilliere from the steamer's deck, the observations of the place and
its people were to him a piquant and suggestive study.

He had been there but a few hours when he discovered its central fact.
The Central Fact of Dormilliere was the Parish Church.

First, it was the centre in prominence as a feature of the view, for
with the exception of the Convent school, no one of the string of
cottages and buildings, stone, brick and wood, which constitute the
single street of the place, presumed to rival it even in size, but all
of them disposed themselves about it, and, as it were, rested humbly in
its protection, particularly the Convent school itself, a plain
red-brick building, which stood by its side.

It was also the centre by position; being situate about mid-way between
the ends of the long street, standing back commanding the only square,
which was flanked on its two sides by the sole other edifices of public
character, the priest's residence, or _presbytere_, and the friars'
school for boys.

It is needless to say that the Church was the central fact
architecturally also. Large and of ancient look, its wrinkled, whited,
rude-surfaced face was impressive, notwithstanding that it was relieved
by but little ornament; for its design was from the hand of some by-gone
architect of broad and quiet ability.

Be in no hurry, friend reader, but let us look it over, for it is an
antiquity, and worthy of the title.

The facade consisted of a great gable, flanked by two square towers. The
gable roof had a steep mediaeval pitch, and was pinnacled by the statue
of a saint. A small circular window was set in the angle, and looked
like the building's eye. Three larger windows and the great door came
below in the broad front at their proper stages of the design; and in
the centre a cut stone oval, bore the date "1761," in quaint figures--a
date that seemed a monument of the fatal storming of Quebec, just over,
and the final surrender of Montreal, just to be made--the end of French
dominion over three quarters of North America!

A number of details afforded entertainment to the curious eye. There
were the rude capitals "St. J.B." and "St. F.X." on the keystone of the
round-arched side doors at the foot of the towers. There were the series
of circular windows leading one above another, on the towers, up to the
charming belfry spire which crowned them. There were high up in the air
on