fertile and well farmed, but too flat for fine scenery. The country
between Quebec and Montreal has all the appearance of having been under
a long state of cultivation, especially on the right bank of the river.
Still there is a great portion of forest standing which it will take
years of labour to remove.

We passed some little grassy islands on which there were many herds of
cattle feeding. I was puzzling myself to know how they got there, when
the captain told me it was usual for farmers to convey their stock to
these island pastures in flat-bottomed boats, or to swim them, if the
place was fordable, and leave them to graze as long as the food
continued good. If cows are put on an island within a reasonable
distance of the farm, some person goes daily in a canoe to milk them.
While he was telling me this, a log-canoe with a boy and a stout lass
with tin pails, paddled across from the bank of the river, and proceeded
to call together their herd.

We noticed some very pleasant rural villages to the right as we
advanced, but our pilot was stupid, and could not, or would not tell
their names. It was Sunday morning, and we could just hear the quick
tinkling of the church bells, and distinguish long lines of caleches,
light waggons, with equestrians and pedestrians hastening along the
avenue of trees that led to the churchyard; besides these, were boats
and canoes crossing the river, bound to the same peaceful haven.

In a part of the St. Laurence, where the channel is rendered difficult
by shoals and sand-banks, there occur little lighthouses, looking
somewhat like miniature watermills, on wooden posts, raised above the
flat banks on which they are built. These droll little huts were
inhabited, and we noticed a merry party, in their holiday clothes,