every child of flag-wagging age, in
Montreal.

And when he had seen the high, fine business blocks of Montreal, and
the pretty residential districts, where the well-designed homes seem to
stand on terrace over terrace of the smoothest, greenest grass, he was
shown the country-side about Montreal, the comely little habitant
parishes and holiday places that make outlying Montreal, and the
convents and the colleges where Montreal educates itself, the
Universities where that education is rounded off, and the long, wide,
straight speedways over which Montreal citizens get the best out of
their motor-car moments--and he was shown how it was done.

And after showing him the rivers that make the hilly country about
Montreal beautiful, and the little pocket villages, he was swung back
out of the green of the summer country and shown more business blocks,
and just a hint of the great wharves and docks that fringe the St.
Lawrence and give the city its great industrial power and fame. Then
when they had shown him all the things that man usually sees only after
weeks of tenacious exploration, they spun him up a corkscrew drive that
goes first among charming houses, then among beautiful deep trees and
grass, and sat him down in a glowing pavilion on the top of this hill,
Mount Royal--the Montreal that gives the city its name--and gave him
lunch.

There, as he ate, he looked down over one of the great views of the
world. Below him was the splendid vista of a splendid city; the mass
of tall offices, factories and the high fret of derricks and elevators
along the quays that covered the site of the Indian lodges of Hochelaga
that Jacques Cartier first found; the mass of spires from a thousand
churches, the swelling domes and hipped roofs of basilica and college
that had grown up from the old religious outpost, the nucleus of
Christianity in the wilds that was to convert the wilds, the Ville
Marie de Montreal that Maisonneuve had founded nearly three centuries
ago.

And beyond this swinging breadth of city that was modernity, as well as
history, the Prince saw the grey, misty bosom of the St. Lawrence,
winding broad and significant beneath the distant hills.

III

Truly it had been a mighty day, worthy of a mighty city. And a day not
merely big in achievement, but big in meaning also. In his drive the
Prince had covered no less than thirty-six miles in and about the city,
and on practically the whole of that great sweep th