It was a peculiar club. It contained no member who should not be in it;
and no one was left out who should be in. The number was about a dozen.
For twenty years the club met in Dyonnet's studio, and afterwards,
as the result of some convulsion, in K. R. Macpherson's. A ceremonial supper
was eaten once a year, at which one dressed the salad, one made the coffee,
and Harris sang a song. Here all pictures were first shown,
and writings read -- if they were not too long. If they were,
there was in an adjoining room a tin chest, which in these austere days
one remembers with refreshment. When John McCrae was offered membership
he "grabbed at it", and the place was a home for the spirit
wearied by the week's work. There Brymner and the other artists
would discourse upon writings, and Burgess and the other writers
would discourse upon pictures.

It is only with the greatest of resolution, fortified by
lack of time and space, that I have kept myself to the main lines
of his career, and refrained from following him into by-paths and secret,
pleasant places; but I shall not be denied just one indulgence.
In the great days when Lord Grey was Governor-General he formed a party
to visit Prince Edward Island. The route was a circuitous one.
It began at Ottawa; it extended to Winnipeg, down the Nelson River
to York Factory, across Hudson Bay, down the Strait,
by Belle Isle and Newfoundland, and across the Gulf of St. Lawrence
to a place called Orwell. Lord Grey in the matter of company
had the reputation of doing himself well. John McCrae was of the party.
It also included John Macnaughton, L. S. Amery, Lord Percy,
Lord Lanesborough, and one or two others. The ship had called
at North Sydney where Lady Grey and the Lady Evelyn joined.

Through the place in a deep ravine runs an innocent stream which broadens out