“Toronto is an Indian name, I suppose,” said Hugh. “Do you know what it means?”
“I do,” said May, when Kate had confessed her ignorance. “At least I have read somewhere that it means ‘The Place of Meeting,’ from having been the point where the roving bands of Indians and the French traders used to meet in the old French time. At first it was only a little stockaded fort, called Fort Kouilly, after a French Colonial Minister, I think, and there the traders and Indians used to make their bargains.”
“And after that,” said Mrs. Sandford, “it was never known at all until Governor Simcoe made it the first capital, instead of Niagara, which was too near the frontier, and called it York, after the then Duke of York.”
“What a pity!” exclaimed Hugh. “But they went back to the Indian name, after all!”
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Sandford, “they got tired of hearing it called ‘muddy little York,’ and changed back to Toronto about fifty years ago; and Toronto it has remained ever since. My father has often told me about the first Parliament buildings here, and the Vice-Regal residence, which the ‘Queen City’ would not think good enough now for a school building. At the time when it was made the capital, the woods clothed the shore down to the water’s edge, and there were only two wigwams here, in which lived two families of Mississauga Indians, from whom the whole site of the city is said to have been bought for ten shillings sterling, with some beads, blankets, and, I’m afraid, a little fire-water thrown in.”
“Well,” said Hugh, “everything is relative; I suppose that represented a small fortune to them, and it has taken a good while to get the ‘unearned increment’ up to its present value.”
“I don’t understand your new-fangled terms,” said Mrs. Sandford. “There weren’t any of them in my day. Now, make haste and get your traps together, for we’ll be at the dock in two minutes. Look for the Arlington carriage, Hugh, that’s where we’re going; I think you will find it there.”
And in a few minutes they were all stowed into the carriage, and driven rapidly away from the noisy dock to the quiet family hotel on King Street, which seemed an inviting resting place in the very warm afternoon. They felt the heat all the more after the cool lake breeze they had been enjoying; and they were all tired enough with their early start to enjoy a siesta before their luncheon, which was also much appreciated in its turn. The afternoon was to be devoted to seeing Toronto, and a large double hack was soon at the door, in which the whole party ensconced themselves for a leisurely drive about the busy and beautiful city. Kate, as usual, directed the route, and Hugh sat on the box beside the driver, where he could hear all the information given behind, as well as secure some more on his own account from the communicative charioteer.
They drove first eastward, along the fine stretch of King Street, admiring on their way the pretty, shady grounds of Government House, and the massive Norman architecture of St. Andrew’s Church opposite, in which Hugh, as a Scotchman, took a special interest. Passing on, along the favorite resort of Toronto promenaders, they admired the stately rows of buildings, though Hugh and Flora protested against the monotonous white brick, so new to their English eyes. They turned up the busy thoroughfare of Yonge Street, and, after a few blocks, left the region of shops and turned aside into the cool shadiness of Jarvis and Sherbourne Streets, with their handsome residences, surrounded by well-kept grounds; and so up to the rural quiet of Bloor Street. They crossed the fine bridge over the ravine at Rosedale, and admired the picturesque bits of scenery lying about that romantic spot. Then, after following Bloor Street into the new section of the city that has grown up so rapidly about Spadina Avenue, they turned into the beautiful “Queen’s Park,” and drove through its shady precincts, the Scottish strangers surveying with great interest the new academic buildings that are springing up about the University as a center. At the University, of course, they halted for a closer inspection of the beautiful building, which, as Kate remarked, had just risen, Phœnix-like, from the conflagration that had, a short time ago, left it a mass of magnificent ruins.
“You see they are building the library quite separate, over there, now,” Kate said, pointing to where the graceful library building was beginning to show its beauty of design. “It is really wonderful,” she added, “how generous people everywhere have been in restoring the loss of the books.”