Cathedraltown swim meet scoring

How Swim Meets Are Scored | Los Paseos Aquatic Club

The Valley Cabana Swim League places equal emphasis on place points and on improved times. Teams are awarded place points for 1st through 5th place. to meet the Furness liner from New York that brought me to Bermuda in mid January,. Some days Henrietta Quade and I would play deck tennis or swim together. She had an On the return to London visited the cathedral town When we arrived arrangements were made to hire a car to take us to the points. In championship and other multiple team meet scoring, including triangular meets, individual points are awarded as follows (for all relays, double the points.

Tisdall caught the look, appeared puzzled by it, and then, comprehension dawning, leaped into action. Well, indications point one way certainly, but they cancel each other out, somehow. Going to be difficult, I think. I want to see her lawyer — Erskine. He arrived just in time for the inquest, and afterward I had Tisdall on my hands so I missed him. Would you find out for me when I can talk to him tonight.

Yes, I may look in for a drink, but it depends how late I am. All she saw was the top of his head over her hedge as he went past.

He wore it a fair amount, it seems. Owing to his having come back from foreign parts, she thought. You know, sir, has it occurred to you that it was a clever man who did this job? No footsteps, no weapon, no signs of violence. If you were going to drown a woman in the sea, would you wear an overcoat to do it?

Just stand there and hold her till she drowned. The only part of me that she could scratch that way would be my hands. It takes only a few seconds before she is unconscious. But there are the equivalent. There are stone groins. Yes, so there are! Think that was how it was done, sir?

But the coat still worries me. It was a misty morning, a bit chilly at six. Anyone might have worn a coat. He gave Williams instructions for his further inquiries, when he himself should be in town. It was very early but someone may remember him. Did he wear a coat or not?

Though not for the reason he gave. With a car he could be at the other end of England, or out of the country, before they found her body! And then something made him realize what a fool he was. Perhaps he missed the button from his cuff. Anyhow, he realized that he had only to stay where he was and look innocent. The very thought of how nearly he had made a fool of himself would have been enough to make him burst into tears. There seems to be a lack of motive. He was penniless and she was a liberal woman.

That was every reason for keeping her alive. He was greatly interested in her, certainly. He may have suffered from frustration, but if that were so he would be much more likely to beat her up. It was a queerly cold-blooded murder, Williams. Grant smiled at him: He was much more the contented husband of a pretty and devoted wife than the ambitious detective-sergeant.

Must find out whom her death benefits. It was a misfortune for Tisdall, but it must have been lucky for a lot of people. The Yard will know by the time I get up. She was born in Nottingham and went to school there. They do say she worked in a lace factory, but no one knows the truth of that. And she used to tell a different story each time. Temperament, they called it, of course.

It always seemed to me more like — well, like protection, if you know what I mean. Every six months she was in a different social sphere, she went up at such a rate. That takes a lot of living up to — like a diver coming up from a long way below. No, I think she needed a shell to get into, and keeping people guessing was her shell. His pink cheeks grew a shade pinker.

He slapped marmalade with venom onto his slab of toast. What was he doing snooping around at half past eight of a morning? Spent the night at the pub there. Did the County people verify that?

And since then everyone has concentrated on Tisdall. Clay walks out on him, and he runs her to earth in a country cottage, alone with a man. Well, you can add Harmer to your list of chores. Find out about his wardrobe. I hope it brings in something. Is that the chap who used to be in Craven Road? It might lead us to something.

Chapter 6 Marta Hallard, as befitted a leading lady who alternated between the St. Grant, climbing the stairs with weary feet, appreciated the carpet even while his other self wondered about the vacuum cleaning. The dim pink square of the lift had fled upward as he came through the revolving door, and rather than wait for its return he was walking the two flights.

The commissionaire had said that Marta was at home: Grant regretted the people, but was determined that this day was not going to end without his obtaining some light on Christine Clay and her entourage. Barker had failed to find the lawyer, Erskine, for him; his man said he was suffering from the shock of the last three days and had gone into the country over Sunday; address unknown.

At the Yard he had read through the dossier — still, of course, incomplete — which they had gathered together in the last twelve hours. In all the five sheets of it Grant found only two things remarkable. Her real name, it appeared, was Christina Gotobed. And she had had no lovers. No public ones, that is. Even in those crucial years when the little Broadway hoofer was blossoming into the song-and-dance star, she seemed to have had no patron.

Competitive Swimming : How Is High School Swimming Scored?

Nor yet when, tiring of song-and-dance pictures, her ambition had reached out to drama; her rocket had shot to the stars under its own power, it would seem. This could only mean one of two things: During the book-writing solstice he and Christine lived more or less under one roof, and were apparently very happy. Now, where in that life, as shown in the dossier, did a murder fit in?

Grant asked himself, toiling up the padded stairs. He had been her constant companion for the three months she had been in England. An ill-balanced boy, picked up in a moment of waywardness or generosity, at a time when he was reckless and without direction. Well, he himself would find out more about Tisdall. Meanwhile he would find out about the Harmers of her life. As he came to the top of the second flight, he heard the gentle sound of the lift closing, and he turned the corner to find Jammy Hopkins just taking his thumb from the bell push.

People shriek for their lawyer nowadays at the very sight of a policeman on the mat. We both thought of Marta. No need for crowding. He followed Grant into the little hall without giving his name, and Grant, while appreciating the ingenuity, rebelled at providing a cloak for the press.

The double doors to the living room stood open, and from the room beyond came welcome in high excited tones. Now you can tell us what all these midday editions were talking about. Do me a favor. Just talk as you were talking before I came. Who is your friend? Hopkins of the Clarion. And they say professional people are publicity hounds! He had never heard of an Alan Grant, and made it perfectly clear.

And the fourth was that intimate of the stars, Miss Lydia Keats, who was now talking all over Jammy Hopkins and enjoying herself immensely. It would be folly to make an enemy of a C. He loves to hear himself talk. I know, you see. He has interviewed me so often. But he never listens to a word I say. Not his fault, of course.

Aries people are often talkative. I knew the first time he crossed my threshold that he was April born. Grant, are a Leo person. To be born in Leo is to be a king. They are the favorites of the stars. Born to success, predestined to glory.

They are the great ones of the world. I should say that you were born in the first weeks of August. He had certainly been born on the 4th of August. She warned Tony Pickin about an accident before he was smashed up.

The credit is not mine, in any case. I only read what is there. But one does not expect a Pisces person to have either the vision or the faith! Clements provided a distraction. Going around the possibilities. Personally I plump for Jason. Has anyone any advance on Jason? Like a merry kettle.

So she was sticking up for Jason? How much did she like him? They are possessed by a desire to get back on life for the suffering they have endured.

You know quite well that there was nothing between them. He was never out of her sight. Hopkins knows much more about it than we do. What did he think? What had the police got? Who did they think had done it? Were all these hints in the evening papers about her living with someone true? He was suggestive about murderers, illuminating on murder, discursive about human nature, and libelously rude about the police and their methods, all with a pleased eye on the helpless Grant. Her mouth opened in dismay, stayed that way helplessly for a moment, and then shut tightly; and a blind came down over her face.

Grant watched the display in surprised interest. Especially since you, of course, murdered her yourself. Then the moment broke.


If I remember rightly, she said your works were like spilt gravy. His father was a butcher, and he probably inherited a callous mentality! Or how about Coyne? He would have killed her on the Bars of Iron set, if no one had been looking.

She had consumed her fifth drink. The antique shops were moving that doubtful rug to the other side of the window out of the too questioning gaze of the morning sun. The little cafes were eating their own stale buns for their morning coffee and being pained and haughty with inconsiderates who asked for fresh scones.

If the coat had been made by a London firm of standing, one could walk into their shop at any time in the next fifty years and be told without fuss and with benevolent politeness provided they knew who you were what kind of buttons had been used. But who was to say whether a Los Angeles firm would know what buttons they put on a coat six months ago!

Besides, the button in question was wanted here. It could not very well be sent to Los Angeles. The best one could do was to ask them to supply a sample of the buttons used.

Tisdall was wearing the coat when he drove away the car. He had found a farmer who had seen the car at the Wedmarsh crossroads a little after six on Thursday morning. Tell the time any time of day, sun or no sun. He was driving sheep, and the car slowed down because of them.

He was positive that the man driving was young and wore a dark coat. It was the only car he had seen that morning. He reported that Jason Harmer had not stayed at the hotel he had given as his sleeping place at Sandwich.

The new church has been too much 'restored' and 'improved. Old memories too, fading eras slipping by into the centuries with hardly an echo in the sturdy French provincial life of to-day. Eustache, outside the city, where he had taken refuge. But in the market, where now the habitants flock on Tuesdays and Fridays, there is still a note of the past in the quaint carts, the homespuns and the little chairs that are brought in from the country for sale.

Also there are squawking ducks and chickens, and maple sugar, and garlic, and straw hats and native tabac, and rosaries and cheap jewellery.

And the barter takes one back to Paris markets, only this is a kindlier commerce. There is a newer but no less striking romance in the opening up of the mountain district. Because she is a city with a soul it would seem that her literary traditions should be many. As a matter of fact this is hardly the case, though certain outstanding figures are undoubtedly linked with it. Romance rests upon the name of Charles Heavysege, who came to Montreal from Liverpool in He was a wood carver by profession and his drama "Saul" shows that he was a poet by birth.

George Murray, an Oxford man, did much literary work in his new home, and so did John Reade, who arrived in Canada in from Belfast and joined the Montreal Gazette. Lighthall is a Canadian anthologist of note, a poet and also a novelist. Stephen Leacock is a humorist of international fame. Drummond has for ever left his impress upon the literature of Canada in the habitant verse which has immortalized the French-Canadian farmer, the voyageur and the coureur de bois.

The "Chansons Populaires" of Canada are unique. The songs, which came out of the convents of France in the Middle Ages, were brought to Quebec by its founders.

As the years went on the ancient, beautiful songs became Canadianized, in a sort of verbal and musical patois containing much piquant anecdote of the early days. Drummond in his poems illustrates the life and manners, the humour and the tragedy of the habitant. He does not touch the old songs which are their heritage. In a different way Mrs.

Harrison"Seranus," has pictured the life along the St. Lawrence in her exquisite Villanelles, many of them written in or near Montreal. A group of the younger generation of poets would include such names as Nelligan, Lozeau and Paul Morin. During the summer months the entente between Canada and the United States is strong.

Montreal is full of Americans, which recalls a tribute from Horace Traubel, late of Philadelphia and long a sojourner in this city which he loved so well. The distinctly English cities whether on this or the other side of the Border are passionless prose.

They are too respectable to be decent. Montreal is awake, Sundays and week-days. As far back as the establishment of non-sectarian free schools was provided for, and shortly after that, the foundation for McGill was laid.

It is now one of the great universities of the world, and such distinguished names as those of Sir William Dawson, William Peterson, LL.

James McGill, a leading merchant and citizen of Montreal, looked forward to a University which should consist of several colleges. Three such are already in existence, the first and original one being that which bears his name. Montreal is a centre for art and for artists. While the National gallery at Ottawa contains its treasures, Montreal possesses the most important permanent collection of European pictures in Canada.

The new Art Gallery on Sherbrooke Street, beautiful in its classic architecture, was erected through the liberality of a group of Montreal picture lovers. As gray as mother of pearl, but an all-encompassing gray that includes violet and blue and a fine sea-green when the sun strikes it, that is Kingston, which, because it is built upon a ridge of limestone, has for long suffered from the dull phrase, "The Limestone City. Its position on the north shore of Lake Ontario just at its junction with the St.

Lawrence was sure to attract a colony from the earliest days. At that time the French fur trade was its reason for being. Two years later Louis XIV made a grant of two thousand acres of surrounding country to his friend, Robert, Cavalier de la Salle, because of the upkeep of the Fort. And then a quarrel arose with La Barre, after the recall of Frontenac, who took possession in his usual unethical fashion, and in had the Fort rebuilt.

It became something of a storm centre. As the French supremacy in Canada drew to a close, and the New England colonies to the south became stronger, the primitive streets of the fortress town echoed the sound of drums until Bradstreet led an army of three thousand men and eleven guns against it, and in August,it capitulated.

Then for a long time there was silence. Another generation had nearly run its course when it was reclaimed by the United Empire Loyalists, who gave their settlement the name of Kingston. John Stuart, the first Anglican clergyman in Canada, who later founded here a school for boys.

A new town was laid out with a flour mill, a court of Assize, a Whipping-Post and Stocks. Two years later the Duke de la Rochefoucauld-Liancourt, drew the following picture of the little town: The only structure more conspicuous than the others is the barracks, a stone building surrounded by palisades. But Kingston remained unhurt. Her fortifications were growing. At this time appeared those fascinating block houses, of which only one remains.

These block houses constituted a cordon of defense round the town and were connected by a high stockade. They were all of the same pattern; two stories high, the upper stories slightly projecting, and were armed with carronades.

After the war of this was the military centre for Upper Canada, and possessed a garrison, a resident Commandant, and a leisure class of military officers and their families. Hence of course social life and ambition.

As far back as we find records of "a large wooden Government House and Theatre built by the Military," of balls and parties, of "coloured gauzes and laces," of "Waterloo sarcenets" and "Wellington bombazines.

George's Cathedral, begun inwas described by a visitor in as "A long, low, blue building with square windows and a little cupola or steeple for the bell, like the thing on a brewery, placed on the wrong end of the building. In the vault of the Church was buried Lord Sydenham, a tablet in the present Cathedral commemorating his memory. Here, as within the area of the more modern Military College a youthful affair opened so late as the mere dates do not count when one stands upon ancient ground where long-forgotten causes were fought out before the white men came from France or England, old wars that out date memory.

In the modern Cathedral of St. George there hangs from the Cadets' Gallery, a great flag covered with stars for the fallen in the Great War. Laughing faces of boys arise, vanished in the old cause of freedom that lured their forefathers to this very spot.

Kingston has had some strange karma to work out. Always she has desired military and national power. Always, in spite of great natural resources and gifts, these things have been denied her. But in the yearwhen she became the temporary seat of Government for the United Provinces of Upper and Lower Canada—an honor soon withdrawn—Queen's University was incorporated. It struggled at first for a bare existence, because all suitable buildings had been taken over for the Administrative purposes of the Government.

Its first classes were conducted in a small frame building on Princess Street. Now the University is the real centre and glory of Kingston. A far cry from the old swashbuckler days, the romance of Indian and French intrigue, the knavish fur trade, the wild escapades of smugglers, the delightful arrogance and amours of early British military life, to the deep-thoughted Presbyterianism that has, through seven decades, meant Queen's.

It is as if a quiet pool had been set in the midst of a town that was listening to the call of rushing rapids near by, and the quiet of the pool had gradually stilled the call of the rapids. It is a cool but perhaps a kindly fate. The system of Martello towers which guard the harbour and city are patterned after those of the 16th Century in Europe and were begun nearly three decades after the block houses. The oldest of them still lacks a few years of the century mark but they look as if they had been there forever, and are a distinctive and beautiful feature of Kingston.

Again the note of gray! The lovely Shoal Tower, in the harbour, stands as one writer has said, "its feet in the blue waters of the lake," like some remembrance from the long ago. Point Frederick, so long associated with the early Naval depot, became the site of the buildings.

The Cadets have for years lent a stirring colour to Kingston life. One goes about the streets wondering who lived here and there, for many of the stone exteriors have that about them which at once awakens interest and a certain quality of suspense that is the hall-mark of fascination. Many of these places were undoubtedly the abode of gentlefolk of British tradition. The history of most is lost but that of a few we know. Macdonald spent most of his boyhood, while nearly opposite, overlooking the river, is another historic abode, once occupied by Molly Brant, the sister of Joseph Brant, the Mohawk Chief.

The lover of literary reminiscence will seek out the remains of an ancient cemetery at the end of Clergy Street where was buried an officer of the British Army, a brother of Felicia Hemansthe English poetess. In she writes in "Graves of a Household": In the edition of his poems published in he describes the writing of his famous "Canadian Boat Song" on the St.

Lawrence between Kingston and Montreal, a journey which then took five days, "exposed to an intense sun, and at night forced to take shelter from the dews in any miserable hut upon the banks that would receive us.

Lawrence repays all such difficulties. Miss Agnes Maule Machar, novelist, historian and poet, a daughter of the Rev. Ursula's Convent, or the Nun of Canada. George Hart and published in Kingston in Charles Sangster was born in and was the first Canadian to use the material all about him in poetry.

He was followed by Charles Maira student of Queen's, whose poems were published in His Indian drama "Tecumseh," written in blank verse in lines imbued with the splendour of the early days, will always be a work of importance to Canadians. To-day upspringing shafts of elevators and spires predominate the gray batteries and the sixteenth century towers. Long iron rails stretch endlessly east and west.

Yet they hardly touch a city that was born, and continues to be, a Port, a child of sleepy waterways whom commerce has failed to allure.

For the ancient Seigniory of Cataraqui still holds a dream which time has made tranquil but never really disturbed. Halifax—A Holding Place "F OR a hundred and seventy years the Holding Place of the British against the power of enemies and the forces of nature"—so the present Prince of Wales in his first speech on landing in Canada in As he arrived at the quay the guns of the British, French, and Italian warships fired the salute and the echoes reverberated among the hills that surround the town, so that it was hard to tell which was the gun and which the echo.

Symbolic, this echo, of a Port that has always been a receiving station—an invitation rather than a command. Looking down from the Citadel one sees the ancient town set on a sort of peninsula; a triangle, with its base to the east making a main harbour, the two sides formed by Bedford Basin, twenty miles in circumference, and by the North-West Arm, a three mile strip of water.

The Micmacs saw the harbour first and called it Chebucto—'Great'—and after the Indians, true to Canadian history, came the French.

Champlain named it Baie Saine or 'Safe Harbour. Here came Howe with his defeated regulars after being clawed by the buckskins at Boston.

Here floated safe at last the thousands of Loyalists from New York who preferred exile to renouncing their ancient allegiance. In the bitter winter ofdelicately nurtured women lived in the floating transports while others huddled in the cabooses taken from the ships and pitched like wigwams all along Granville Street.

Then during the long wars with the French Republic and with Napoleon the waters of the Harbour never rested from the stirring of keels coming and going. Ships of the line, frigates with intelligence, privateers, prizes, cartels with exchange of prisoners, transports with licence to make war on King George's enemies. In the war of there were one hundred and six ships of war on this station.

On Sunday, June 6th,there came a procession of two ships—the little Shannon, proudly leading her prize, the Chesapeake, up to the anchorage by the dockyard.

But these adventures were only a prelude for the mighty drama begun in Hereafter for five years Halifax perpetually echoed to the tramping feet of thousands upon thousands of Canadian soldiers, who will never forget her welcomes and farewells. Founded in by the Hon. Edward Cornwallis as a rival to the French town of Louisburg in Cape Breton, Halifax named after the second Earl of Halifax superseded Annapolis as the capital of the province.

Paul's Church recalls the early days, in vaults where lie those whose names made the early history of Halifax. The records of those rough, warm, full-blooded times come with a heady flavour and an old-world tang to the thin asceticism of to-day.

Halifax from the first contained two predominating elements, Scotch and New England. To this add a dash of English blood and manners. Eaton in his 'History of Halifax' gives sidelights on the stir caused in the breasts of estimable and aristocratic New Englanders by the doings of Royalty in the Eighteenth Century. Royalty in the old days was rampant in Halifax. Yet no New Englander among them was more democratic than the son of plain 'Farmer George' who used often in Halifax "to put his own hand to the jack-plane and drive the cross-cut saw.

His estate was a veritable feudal village, and his lasting public memorial in Halifax is the Citadel, and the Harbour forts which he built and made well-nigh impregnable. But his residence was illuminated by a romance which his godly mother and his virtuous daughter, Queen Victoria, could not but deplore.

It had to do with a lady who accompanied him from the West Indies when he came to Halifax, and, "as much as she was permitted by society, shared his social responsibilities and, sincerely attached to his interests and to his person, assiduously ministered to his wants. Laurent, Baronne de Fortisson. This noble French woman was his companion during his stay at Halifax, and afterwards until nearly the time of his marriage to the widow who was to become the mother of Queen Victoria.

Soon after the Prince came to Halifax he leased from Sir John Wentworth a small villa set in a beautiful property several miles out of town and quite near the post-road which winds around Bedford Basin.

This he beautified and adorned until it became a spacious residence after the Italian style, the gardens containing "charming surprises;" an artificial lake, several Chinese pagodas and Greek and Italian imitation temples. A little Rotunda, containing a single room, richly decorated and hung with paintings was the special joy of the Prince.

It was built for dancing. Now, all that remains of the gay feudal village called "Prince's Lodge" is this Rotunda, made over as a dwelling-house, in some prosaic after-time, and now no longer occupied. As early asHaliburton says: The tottering fence, the prostrate gates, the ruined grottoes, the long and winding avenues cut out of the forest, overgrown by rank grass and occasional shrubs, and the silence and desolation that reign around, all recall to mind the untimely fate of its noble and lamented owner, and tell of affecting pleasures and the transitory nature of all earthly things.

A few years more and all trace of it will have disappeared forever. The forest is fast reclaiming its own, and the lawns and ornamental gardens, annually sown with seeds scattered by the winds from the surrounding woods, are relapsing into a state of nature. We hear of splendid and "most exclusive" entertainments at Government House.

Among other table ornaments which were altogether superb, were exact representations of Hartshorne and Tremain's new flour mill, and of the windmill on the Common. The model of the lighthouse at Shelburne was incomparable, and the tract of the new road from Pictou was delineated in the most ingenious and surprising manner, as was the representation of our fisheries, that great source of wealth in this country. He was born in a cottage on the Arm. Young Joseph was early sent to a printer's office, and later became a journalist, a politician and a Lieutenant-Governor of Nova Scotia.

He led his province through the stormy period of the fight for responsible government, without bloodshed. In his "Speeches and Public Letters" much of the history of his day and generation is to be found. Thomas Chandler Haliburton was a native of Windsor, N. In his delineation of Sam Slick, type of the Yankee pedlar who perambulated Nova Scotia in those days, Haliburton became not only the founder of Canadian but also of American humour. The wit that sparkles through the quaint series of volumes published in London and Halifax in the '30's has been copied by a generation of authors less honest than himself.

Loganpoet and critic, are all associated with Halifax through birth or habitation. Robert Norwoodthe poet, now of Philadelphia, loves the old city as a part of his youth, and so does Basil King the novelist. They are both King's College men, and something of the mellowness of that sweet old place remains in their memories.

Robert Norwood found great joy as a child in the wharves and shipping up and down the Harbour. I loved colour, and the effect of the sun on the wharves with their bales of merchandise lives in lines in my poem 'Paul to Timothy: The Citadel was a great slope of green that melted at last into the sooty houses below, but beyond the roofs was the sea and the islands, and ships moving up and down the Harbour.

Luke's Cathedral, Basil King calls Halifax "one of mankind's free ports. It has a settled life, it is true; but its chief life is that of a magnificent touch-and-go, with a splendid variety of contacts. Going out to dine, your neighbor on one side might be from Gibraltar and on the other side from North Dakota.

You could never tell, or speculate beforehand. Varieties of friendship were on the same scale. Somewhat like those formed on board ship, they were quick, warm, impulsive, and short-lived.

There was too much of the here-to-day and gone-to-morrow in all life to give much social permanence; but in compensation there was much of rapid exchange. It was not so much Halifax that impressed itself on me during the years I spent there; it was first the British Empire; and then it was the world.

What I drew from my life there was a world-view through lens of the British Empire. In some ways it is the gift of supreme importance in my life. Henry Piers calls attention to the fact that as early as there were Art Exhibitions in what was, at that time, a small town. But there is the record that above all others is written in terms of heroic deeds and great sacrifices that followed the overwhelming disaster caused by the explosion of munitions of war in the harbour in December The Wagwaeltic Club on the North-West Arm—mysteriously beautiful is the Arm with its old trees banked down to the water's edge—the Public Gardens, the drives through the Parks over roads made when the British Regulars were established at the barracks, are a part of modern Halifax, but there are also moats and cannon, subterranean casements, hidden tunnels and secret defences concealing what mystery!

Here something crouches, ready to spring forward at a word, though the attitude of dear, dilapidated Halifax is beautifully careless. One could hardly expect, and certainly would not desire her to be neat. For she keeps perpetual open house for many and strange guests. When the sea-doors of Quebec and Montreal are locked she is busiest. The Naval Institute is the second largest in America, and to its friendly doors, year in and year out, come all sorts of seamen, many of them sailors in distress, for Halifax is often a 'port of missing men.

The Port of St. John S TEEP streets and the ringing of church bells; the distant sea; sunset, and the lovely irregular lines of masts and spars and rigging; the view of a hazy hill topped by a martello tower;—these are some of my pictures of St.

An old town long ago linked by trade relations with the West Indies, a port filled with foreign sailors, it contains bales of romance never yet unpacked.

I remember crossing Queen Square on a fine spring morning with a lover and historian of his city who spoke not of beauty spots, but of old buildings. As she is the oldest incorporated city in British North America such pictures mean history. Four years before Quebec was founded, Champlain cast anchor at the mouth of the river and christened the region in honour of the Saint whose day it was.

That was on the 24th of June, Before that the site was known to the prehistoric peoples. The Micmacs and the Malicetes loved it; 'Glooscap,' greatest of their demi-gods, had favoured it.

Canadian Cities of Romance

Their descendants wondered as they saw a white man plant the golden lilies of France. The next picture has to do with the Lady of St.

Lady La Tour was a Huguenot and her dream was to found a colony. D'Aunay Charnisay, an enemy, opened a campaign against them. La Tour slipped away to Boston for help.

Charnisay entered the Fort. And then occurred the heroic defense by Madame La Tour, who pitted all her slender resources against the enemy, only to meet with tragedy.

Her garrison was hanged, and the lady herself died a few weeks following her husband's return. Her dream lives on in a poem by Whittier and a story by Harriet Chesney. La Tour married his rival's widow, and for 'diplomatic reasons' became a British subject. The story of St.

John is cast in barbaric colours during the hundred years that it was a trading post visited by passing sailors and soldiers of fortune from many lands, and for ever the scene of the jealous little wars of fur traders.

In came the first valiant Loyalists—a few families from Massachusetts under the leadership of Captain Francis Peabody. The old Hazen house built in is yet standing, much renovated, at the corner of Simonds and Brook Streets.

In there landed twenty shiploads of United Empire Loyalists. Market Slip where they disembarked may look more picturesque to-day—a ribbon of water lined with shipping, great buildings as a background—but to the Loyalists it was a hope. John and built it well. Pictures of this era would show robust gentlemen like the renowned James Simonds, of whom the Venerable Archdeacon Raymond writes in his record of Pioneer Days, who brought the first English bride to the port.

She was one of the three lovely daughters of Captain Peabody, who himself served with distinction at the siege of Quebec a few years before. Early marriages were the rule, and so were large families. They filled their long lives full of the many interests of fast-growing families and the adventures of a young and thriving community.

There was a motley crew encamped about this Post. The Indians, the original French Acadians, and the workmen who had come with the Loyalists were on the whole wonderfully friendly with one another.

Hard times threatened, but did not overcome them. The Loyalists believed that they could conquer the land and even defeat the tides. A pageantry of labour ensued. For always the land had been harassed by the tides of the Bay of Fundy; murmuring, menacing all devouring tides, full of mystery and fate for the first comers. James Simonds and his companion, White, organized a tremendous enterprise with the result that an aboideau was built, and other dykes were made, and the great marshes of Tantramar were redeemed from the water.

Industry was encouraged and paid for. Building operations were begun, and the first warehouses raised in expectation of the industry in shipping.

The Loyalists also made themselves stately homes of the colonial type. There were bursts of social gaiety, as when the Duke of York moved his Court for a short time from Halifax to St.

And there was the 'old Coffee House' where the merchants of those days used to gather. To-day the Bank of Montreal stands on a spot that they say was originally bought for a Spanish doubloon and a gallon of old Jamaica. As the city of the Loyalists grew rich through its enormous lumber trade, and famous for fast sailing ships, one can imagine how far reaching became the stories told in the taverns! It was a quaint document.

To the Mayor was given the office of "garbling of Spices, and the right to appoint the bearer of the great beam," while the important clauses regarding fishing and fowling rights are set out in language suitable to the Letters Patent of the Hudson Bay Company. Ward Chipman, the maker and recorder of this same Charter, was also Counsel for the Crown. We hear of his successful attempt to abolish the practice of slavery in New Brunswick. Thus did the 'adherents of despotism,' as the much abused Loyalists were dubbed, accomplish a reform sixty years before the people of the United States.

To-day there is not a great deal in the outward aspect of the place to remind one of a romantic past. John is sufficiently picturesque in herself, and beautiful enough in natural surroundings to make one fully content with the present.

Still at the foot of Middle Street, in West St. John, may be seen the remains of earth works, marking the site of Fort La Tour erected in Indeed the city does not even possess a statue in honour of the latter. Everyone goes to see the old Burial Ground lying near King Square, once on the outskirts of the town and still tree guarded, where many of the founders of St. The Court House is an elderly and dignified building that fortunately escaped the fire of which destroyed two-thirds of the city.

In the two beautiful city Squares, King and Queen, a good deal of the life of the city centres. Many of the prominent houses are nearby, and still on summer evenings that almost archaic entertainment, a band concert, may be enjoyed.

King Square, which in any other town would be called a Park, is that level plot situated at the head of King Street and extending to Sydney. Therein the visitor finds a splendid monument erected to the memory of Sir S. There is also a statue to a brave youth who during a wild storm, lost his life in a fruitless effort to save a boy from drowning.

The Court House faces on this Square. In Queen Square, Champlain, eager even in cold bronze, points triumphantly to his harbour, and the old French cannon from Fort La Tour has been set up. On Carlton Hill a Martello tower was erected to mark a certain preparedness in It is one of several examples of a romantic type of architecture to be found in Canadian towns and cities.

This one was built by the Royal Engineers, then stationed in St. John, who made its walls of stone fully six feet thick. John may some day enquire about a book shop kept in the '60's by 'Messrs. Fillimore and De Mille. For here lived a pioneer of literature in this land who served well his day and generation. It was in that the Harpers published a serial which is believed by authorities to be a forerunner of Mark Twain's "Innocents Abroad.

For fifty years the publishers have steadily sold it, and are still selling it. Like the work of Haliburton its life is in its humour. But he lived and worked in his own country. His father was a well to do ship-owner and merchant of St. John, and a Puritan of the Puritans.

A student of Acadia College, De Mille afterwards married Anne Pryor, a daughter of the first President of Acadia, and two years later was called to the Classical Chair which he resigned to take that of English literature at Dalhousie, Halifax. As remembrance the permanent pictures of St. John have to do with her unique setting. She can transport you, in a morning's drive through Rockwood Park, to Scottish hills and gemlike lakes.

An hour later you are on the Atlantic seaboard, facing dancing waves, or else black rocks and tawny sands if the tide is out. The fascination of her rivers is inexhaustible. The 'Reversing Falls' is of course one of the wonders of the world, and any guide book will explain the action and reaction of the swirling waters in the winding gorge.

But to be interesting it should remain a mystery. I remember two great bridges, shelter houses and rainy weather. I remember that waiting for the tide, staring at red mud where I had imagined glittering waters, seemed more awesome than the spectacle itself, and the rocks, like those of Niagara, more wonderful than the waters. We sailed out of the harbour for Boston, as so many from the shores of New Brunswick have sailed, bound by the friendship of many a year.

I thought of Bliss Carman and his love for his "port of heroes;" "the barren reaches by the tide," "the long dykes with uneasy foam," "the marshes full of the sea. In departing we journeyed with him— Past the light-house, past the nun-buoy, Past the crimson rising sun. There are dreams go down the harbour With the tall ships of St. Fredericton—The Celestial City A ND some miles up the river one comes upon the capital of New Brunswick, Fredericton, lying all blue and gold in the sun, encircled by her hills and rivers.

The traveller sees a peaceful yet thriving place, a cathedral city as well as a capital, the military centre of the Province, the seat of the Supreme Judiciary and of the Provincial University. He knows that it is also a centre of lumber trade, and a summer paradise on account of good roads, good fishing, and the joys of motor boating. The historian harks us back to the days of Villebon, when the site of the present city was an Acadian settlement called St.

It was an Indian camping place as well, and down the St. John came the canoes of the Malicetes, piled with beaver skins. They came to trade with the gentlemen adventurers of France. Villebon, Governor of all Acadia, made the fort just opposite St. Anne's at the Nashwaak's mouth his citadel, in place of the abandoned Fort Royal.

No one pretended to look for peace in those days. If it was not the Indians it was the New Englanders. Villebon had a certain 'old Ben Church' and his fleet of New England vessels to fight. But the Nashwaak guns were too many for them. Generations later the Loyalists built St. Anne and her invincible fort, for he made Fredericton its capital. In a little building still standing near the present Queen's Hotel, known as the King's Provision Store, the General Assembly met for its third session in July Two years before the first sermon ever preached in the settlement was delivered here.

It was later remarked by the Rev. Samuel Cooke, the Rector, that the inhabitants of Fredericton number four hundred, "of whom one hundred attend church, but many of ye common sort prefer to go fishing.

That vivid background, Indian haunted and pierced by the conquering note of the French, sharpens his imagination, but he also feels the romance of his city of to-day. The shimmering waters that surround it, rimmed by green hills, suggest to him certain celestial qualities.

They imply a life of leisured intellectual pursuit, an unhurried happy state that seems to mark this community as a thing apart from the usual scramble of modern life. In a charming account of his early home, written by Charles G.

Dual Meet Scoring - Masco Swim & Dive

Roberts years ago and never before published, the well-known poet and short story writer describes the beautiful setting of Fredericton. John, and opposite to her wharves the lovely tributary streams, the Nashwaak and the Nashwaaksis. Beyond the house roofs there is the blue sweep of the river and the white villages of St.

Mary's and Gibson, and further still the town of Marysville where the lumber king, Alexander Gibson, rules his domain. The blue river is often dotted with the sails of wood boats. Roberts again, "Here and there puffs a neighbouring tug, towing an acre or two of dark rafts, or a gang of scows piled high with yellow deals.

On all sides is evidence that Fredericton is the centre of the lumber industry. The scene is one that fills the eye with gracious colour and harmonious composition. In the Autumn when the trees flame out with amber and scarlet and aerial purple, when the air swims with a faint violet haze, the picture is one that neither the painter's brush nor the poet's pen can do more than dimly suggest.

I remember the overhanging elm trees, which it seems to me should be part of every Cathedral town. The Cathedral itself, though small and plain to the point of austerity, is one of the most perfect examples of Gothic architecture on the continent.

Queen Street, with shops on one side and lawns and trees and river glimpses on the other, is equally typical of tranquil Fredericton.