A private car, though many books have been written in it, is hardly the best place from which to study a country, unless it happen that you have kept house and seen the seasons round under normal conditions on the same continent.  Then you know how the cars look from the houses; which is not in the least as the houses look from the cars.  Then, the very porter’s brush in its nickel clip, the long cathedral-like aisle between the well-known green seats, the toll of the bell and the deep organ-like note of the engine wake up memories; and every sight, smell, and sound outside are like old friends remembering old days together.  A piano-top buggy on a muddy, board-sidewalked street, all cut up by the narrow tires; the shingling at the corner of a veranda on a new-built house; a broken snake-fence girdling an old pasture of mulleins and skull-headed boulders; a wisp of Virginia creeper dying splendidly on the edge of a patch of corn; half a dozen panels of snow-fence above a cutting, or even a shameless patent-medicine advertisement, yellow on the black of a tobacco-barn, can make the heart thump and the eyes fill if the beholder have only touched the life of which they are part.  What must they mean to the native-born?  There was a prairie-bred girl on the train, coming back after a year on the Continent, for whom the pine-belted hills, with real mountains behind, the solemn loops of the river, and the intimate friendly farm had nothing to tell.

‘You can do these landscapes better in Italy,’ she explained, and, with the indescribable gesture of plains folk stifled in broken ground, ’I want to push these hills away and get into the open again!  I’m Winnipeg.’

She would have understood that Hanover Road schoolmistress, back from a visit to Cape Town, whom I once saw drive off into thirty miles of mirage almost shouting, ‘Thank God, here’s something like home at last.’

Other people ricochetted from side to side of the car, reviving this, rediscovering that, anticipating t’other thing, which, sure enough, slid round the next curve to meet them, caring nothing if all the world knew they were home again; and the newly arrived Englishman with his large wooden packing-cases marked ‘Settlers’ Effects’ had no more part in the show than a new boy his first day at school.  But two years in Canada and one run home will make him free of the Brotherhood in Canada as it does anywhere else.  He may grumble at certain aspects of the life, lament certain richnesses only to be found in England, but as surely as he grumbles so surely he returns to the big skies, and the big chances.  The failures are those who complain that the land ’does not know a gentleman when it sees him.’  They are quite right.  The land suspends all judgment on all men till it has seen them work.  Thereafter as may be; but work they must because there is a very great deal to be done.

Unluckily the railroads which made the country are bringing in persons who are particular as to the nature and amenities of their work, and if so be they do not find precisely what they are looking for, they complain in print which makes all men seem equal.