ss to the Isle of Orleans,
while Mont Ste. Anne rises in graceful lines upon the flank, making a
green background for the stone Basilica, which draws nearly two
hundred thousand pilgrims every year to its healing altars. Perhaps,
as you enter the village, the rich chimes of Ste. Anne are ringing a
processional, and the cripples are thronging through the pillared
vestibule. Some of these pious sufferers have come a thousand miles to
wait, like those in days of old, for the moving of the waters. Inside
the church, the pillars are covered with cast-off crutches, which
faithful pilgrims leave behind when they go forth healed.

The history of the shrine of Ste. Anne de Beaupre goes back almost to
the time of Champlain. A traditional account of its foundation relates
that some Breton mariners, being overtaken by a violent storm on the
St. Lawrence, vowed a sanctuary to Ste. Anne if she would but bring
them safe to shore. Their prayers were heard, and forthwith they
raised a little wooden chapel at Petit-Cap, seven leagues below
Quebec. History, however, gives 1658 as the date of the first chapel
of Ste. Anne; and it was while engaged in its construction that Louis
Guimont became the subject of the first miraculous cure. Other cures
rapidly followed, and soon the shrine became renowned for its
miracles. The Marquis de Tracy made two pilgrimages; and Anne of
Austria, the mother of Louis XIV. accorded her patronage, sending to
the little chapel a vestment embroidered by herself.

[Illustration: UPPER TOWN MARKET TO-DAY]

During two and a half centuries the church of Ste. Anne has been
several times rebuilt. The present imposing structure dates from 1886,
and has been raised by the Pope to the rank of a Basilica Minor.
Beaupre has become the Lourdes of the New World, where the halt, the
maimed, the sick, and the blind piously contend together in effort to
reach the healing shrine.

In the old days once or twice a week, according to the season and the
distance of the city, the peasant made his way to Quebec, to take up
his stand on the market-place, and sell his produce to the
townspeople. The practice still survives, and on a Saturday half the
women of Upper Town busily drive their bargains outside St. John's
Gate, while at the river's brink Champlain Market is equally alive.

When the ancient Seigneur came to town his sword was upon his thigh,
and he wore his smartest toilet of peruke, velvet, and lace. The
Chateau upon th