the horticultural garden and the Roman Catholic cemetery? and did not I climb that hill through the most dilapidated rows of brown houses, and stand on the greensward of the fortress at five o’clock in the morning, and see the whole city, and the British navy riding at anchor, and the fog coming in from the Atlantic Ocean?  Let the reader go to! and if he would know more of Halifax, go there.  We felt that if we remained there through the day, it would be a day of idleness and sadness.  I could draw a picture of Halifax.  I could relate its century of history; I could write about its free-school system, and its many noble charities.  But the reader always skips such things.  He hates information; and he himself would not stay in this dull garrison town any longer than he was obliged to.

There was to be a military display that day in honor of the Governor.

“Why,” I asked the bright and light-minded colored boy who sold papers on the morning train, “don’t you stay in the city and see it?”

“Pho,” said he, with contempt, “I’m sick of ’em.  Halifax is played out, and I’m going to quit it.”

The withdrawal of this lively trader will be a blow to the enterprise of the place.

When I returned to the hotel for breakfast—­which was exactly like the supper, and consisted mainly of green tea and dry toast—­there was a commotion among the waiters and the hack-drivers over a nervous little old man, who was in haste to depart for the morning train.  He was a specimen of provincial antiquity such as could not be seen elsewhere.  His costume was of the oddest:  a long-waisted coat reaching nearly to his heels, short trousers, a flowered silk vest, and a napless hat.  He carried his baggage tied up in mealbags, and his attention was divided between that and two buxom daughters, who were evidently enjoying their first taste of city life.  The little old man, who was not unlike a petrified Frenchman of the last century, had risen before daylight, roused up his daughters, and had them down on the sidewalk by four o’clock, waiting for hack, or horse-car, or something to take them to the station.  That he might be a man of some importance at home was evident, but he had lost his head in the bustle of this great town, and was at the mercy of all advisers, none of whom could understand his mongrel language.  As we came out to take the horse-car, he saw his helpless daughters driven off in one hack, while he was raving among his meal-bags on the sidewalk.  Afterwards we saw him at the station, flying about in the greatest excitement, asking everybody about the train; and at last he found his way into the private office of the ticket-seller.  “Get out of here!” roared that official.  The old man persisted that he wanted a ticket.  “Go round to the window; clear out!” In a very flustered state he was hustled out of the room.  When he came to the window and made known his destination, he was refused tickets, because his train did not start for two hours yet!