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the meat lay, but the dogs very properly drove them away. We fired at them repeatedly, but they hopped up as the bullet chopped off the branch on which they were perched, and lighted on another, screaming and chattering worse than ever.

The next morning we made a very early start, reached Monsieur Boivin's before noon, and got into our sleigh as soon as possible. The mouffle of the moose, which we carried with us, is esteemed a great luxury in Canada, and very justly so; it is the upper lip or nose of the animal, which grows to a great size, and is almost as rich as turtle; many think that the soup made from it has a higher flavour. The legs and feet were sent to the squaws to be ornamented with stained hair and beadwork, and preserved as trophies of the achievements of the pale warriors; the rest of the animal is the perquisite of the Indians.

The roads were much better on our return, but we were astounded when we saw by daylight the place by the precipice, where we had been upset a few nights before. It was dark long before we reached Quebec. Our driver took the wrong road of two, which parted in a fork, separated by a high, stiff wooden fence, with the top but just visible over the snow; before we had gone far we fortunately met a habitan, who told us of our mistake. The road was too narrow to turn. Our driver first cried like a child, then suddenly taking courage, sacred furiously, and, seizing the leader by the head, turned him into the deep snow, towards the right road: a few seconds of plunging, kicking, and shouting—a crash of the fence—and we were all landed on the other road; the sleigh on its side, the horses on their backs, and the driver on his head. The confusion was soon corrected, and by ten at night we passed under the battlements, into the gates of Quebec.

It would be vain to attempt describing the happiness conferred by soap and water, razors and brushes, and a clean bed in a moderate temperature, after six days' deprivation of their good offices. The conclusion which we arrived at with regard to this expedition was, that the greatest pleasure derivable therefrom, consisted in having it over. The*next time I renew my acquaintance with moose, the Zoological Gardens shall be my "ravage," an omnibus bear me instead of snow shoes, and the United Service Club shall be my caban. The winter life in the "bush" is well worth seeing, as a new experience; but as to the sport of moose-hunting—-a day with "The Cheshire" is as superior to it, as were the Uncas and Chingachgook of the American novelist, to the drunken and degenerate savages of Lorette.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CONVENT—THE MADHOUSE.

During a winter visit to one of the Canadian towns, an opportunity offered of my seeing the ceremony of the taking the black veil, by two novices in a neighbouring convent. I was awakened long before daylight, and, in due time, tramping through the deep snow on my way to the place. There had been a gale during the night, the low wooden houses by the road side were nearly covered to the roofs in the heavy drifts; at the corner of each street gusts of wind whirled round showers of sharp, keen poudre, each morsel of which wounded the face like the sting of a venomous fly, and chilled the very blood. The clouds were close and murky, and the dreariest hour of the twenty-four, that just before the dawn, was made even more dismal by the cold glare of the new-fallen snow.

A. large, white, irregular structure, stood on an open space in a remote part of the suburbs, surrounded by a high wall, with massive gates. Over the entrance were two dim lamps, their sickly flames hardly struggling against the wind for the little life and light they possessed; they, however, guided me, and, passing through a wicket' door, I. mounted the steps of the chapel, whfeh lay within, to the right hand. On the altaj^S^rl tall tapers were burning, and round it ijiahy others Jcast a brilliant light. The end of «)6 %>uildirig where it stood was railed in, the other rarts were Jo rative darkness. Near the door^^iwelve spectators were standing; some of them were relations of the postulants, but they appeared not to be much interested in, or moved by, the ceremony.

On the right side of the chancel was a return nearly as large as the body of the chapel, separated from it by a grating of diagonal bars of wood, like the lattice-work of cottage windows. This return was appropriated to the devotions of the nuns, who were of a very austere order; they were never allowed beyond the walls, or to see or hear the people of the outer world, save through these bars. I got a place on the steps of the pulpit, nearly opposite

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