"A smile or a grasp of the hand passing on."

I shall only say, as an atonement for the unwitting lapses of an
imperfect memory, in the language once used by a friend and countryman
in my hearing, as he passed a very pretty girl: "Remember, my dear, that
I do not pass you with my heart."


WILLIAM PITTMAN LETT.

OTTAWA, MARCH, 1873.




BYTOWN.

CHAPTER I.


In '28, on Patrick's Day,
At one p.m., there came this way
From Richmond, in the dawn of spring,
He who doth now the glories sing
Of ancient Bytown, as 'twas then,
A place of busy working men,
Who handled barrows and pickaxes,
Tamping irons and broadaxes,
And paid no Corporation taxes;
Who, without license onward carried