he centre of a wide boulevard
that is edged with lawns and trees, and so to the new Parliament
Buildings.

Here there was a vivid and shining scene before the great white curtain
of a classic building not yet finished.

In the wide forecourt was a mass of children bearing flags, and up the
great flight of steps leading to the impressive Corinthian porch was a
bank of people, jewelled with flags and vivid in gay dresses. Against
the sharp white mass of the building this living, thrilling bed of
humanity made an unforgettable picture.

The ceremony in the spacious entrance hall was also full of the
movement and colour of life. In the massive square hall stairs spring
upward to the gallery on which the Prince stood. On the level of each
floor galleries were cut out of the solid stone of the walls. Crowded
in these galleries were men and women, who looked down the shaft of
this austere chamber upon a grouping of people about the foot of the
cold, white ascending stairs. The strong, clear light added to the
dramatic dignity of the scene.

The groups moved up the white stairs slowly between the ranks of
Highlanders, whose uniforms took on a vividity in the clarified light.
The Prince in Guard's uniform, with his suite in blue and gold and
khaki and red behind him, stood on the big white stage of the
stair-head to receive them. It was a scene that had all the tone and
all the circumstances of an Eastern levee.

But it was a levee with a fleck of humour, also.

As he turned to leave, the Prince noticed beside him a handsome
armchair upholstered in royal blue. It was a strange, lonely chair in
that desert of gallery and standing humanity. It was a chair that
needed explaining.

In characteristic fashion the Prince bent down to it to find an
explanation. The crowd, knowing all about that chair and understanding
his puzzlement, began to laugh. It laughed outright and with
sympathetic humour when, abruptly handing his Guards' cap to one of his
staff, he solemnly sat down in it for a second instead of going his way.

The chair was the chair his father and grandfather had sat in when they
came to Winnipeg. Silver medallions on it gave testimony to facts.
The Prince had not time to adopt a fully considered sitting, but he was
not going to leave the building until he, too, had registered his claim
to it.

In the big Campus that fronts the University of Manitoba, and ranked by
thousands in a hollow square, were th