In the villages all the signs are in French, and in one where I stopped for a time, I had difficulty in making myself understood. The British Canadian resents the fact that the French do not try to learn English. On the other hand the French rather resent the English neglect of French, which they consider the proper language of the country. Proceedings in the provincial parliament are in both tongues. French business men and the professional and office-holding classes can speak English, but the mass of the people know but the one language and are not encouraged to learn any other.
When the British conceded to Quebec the right to retain the French language, the French law, and the Catholic Church, they made it possible for the French to remain almost a separate people. The French Canadians ask only that they be permitted to control their own affairs in their own way, and to preserve their institutions of family, church, and school. They cultivate the land and perform most of the labour; they own all the small shops, while most of the big business is in the hands of British Canadians. Any slight, real or fancied, to the French language or institutions, is quickly resented. The other day a French society and the Mayor of Quebec made a formal protest to a hotel manager because he displayed a sign printed only in English. American moving picture distributors must supply their films with titles in French. Menu cards, traffic directions, and, in fact, almost all notices of a public character, are always given in both languages. Only two of the five daily newspapers are printed in English; the others are French.
In the old Lower Town are all sorts of narrow streets that may end in the rock cliff, a flight of stairs, or an elevator. Many of them are paved with planks.
Miles of rail fences divide the French farms into ribbon-like strips of land that extend from the St. Lawrence far back to the wooded hills. This is the result of repeated partition of the original holdings.
Quebec is now capitalizing her assets in the way of scenery and historic association, and is calculating how much money a motor tourist from the States is worth each day of his visit. The city of Quebec hopes to become the St. Moritz of America and the centre for winter sports. The Canadian Pacific Railroad has here the first of its chain of hotels that extends across Canada. It is built in the design of a French castle, and is so big that it dwarfs the Citadel. The hotel provides every facility for winter sports, including skating and curling rinks, toboggan slides, and ski jumps. It has expert ski jumpers from Norway to initiate visitors into this sport, and dog teams from Alaska to pull them on sleds. Quebec has snow on the ground throughout the winter season, and the thermometer sometimes drops to twenty-five degrees below zero, but the people say the air is so dry that they do not feel this severe cold. Which reminds me of Kipling’s verse:
There was a small boy of Quebec
Who was buried in snow to his neck.
When they asked: “Are you friz?”