ngs are of a ruddy sandstone, in a style slightly
railway-station Renaissance. They were draped with flags down to the
vivid striped platform before the building upon which the reception was
held. Great masses of people and many ranks of soldiers filled the
lawns before the platform, while to the right was a great flower-bed of
infants. A grand-stand was brimming over with school-kiddies ready to
cheer at the slightest hint, to sing at command, and to wave flags at
all times.

It was a bustling reception from Toronto as parliamentary capital of
Ontario, and from Toronto the town. It was packed full of speeches and
singing from the children and from a Welsh choir--and Canada flowers
Welsh choirs--and presentations from many societies, whose members,
wearing the long silk buttonhole tabs stamped with the gold title of
the guild or committee to which they belonged, came forward to augment
the press on the platform.

These silk tabs are an insignia of Canadian life. The Canadians have
an infinite capacity for forming themselves into committees, and clubs,
and orders of stout fellows, and all manner of gregarious associations.
And when any association shows itself in the sunlight, it distinguishes
itself by tagging its members with long, coloured silk tabs. We never
went out of sight of tabs on the whole of our trip.

From the Parliament Buildings the Prince drove through the packed town
to the Exhibition ground. We passed practically through the whole of
the city in these two journeys, travelling miles of streets, yet all
the way the mass of people was dense to a remarkable degree. Toronto,
we knew, was supposed to have a population of 500,000 people, but long
before we reached the end of the drive we began to wonder how the city
could possibly keep up the strength on the pavements without running
out of inhabitants. It not only kept it up, but it sprang upon us the
amazing sight of the Exhibition ground.

In this long and wonderful drive there was but one stop. This was at
the City Hall, a big, rough stone building with a soaring campanile.
On the broad steps of the hall a host of wounded men in blue were
grouped, as though in a grand-stand. The string of cars swerved aside
so that the Prince could stop for a few minutes and chat with the men.

His reception here was of overwhelming warmth; men with all manner of
hurts, men on crutches and in chairs stood up, or tried to stand up, to
cheer him. It was in t