Two bosom friends were Messrs. H. McMillan, of Vaudreuil, and J. C. Wilson, the paper manufacturer, who represented Argenteuil. They were a second edition of Damon and Pythias, the only difference being that these Canadians always wore shiny plug hats and D. and P. didn’t. But one day, at the Russell House, when Mac didn’t arrive by the usual train, his room was temporarily given to Mr. Wilson, who retired, and was enjoying a snooze when his colleague came on the scene, a little annoyed at not being able to procure a room, and specially this particular room of his. So he awoke Mr. Wilson, and told him to get out, and at once threw his valise out through the doorway into the corridor, which was followed by his umbrella and his cane and finally by a plug hat which was smashed beyond repair by its contact with the opposite wall. Mr. Wilson laughed heartily, and quickly grabbed the other plug. When Mac wanted to know “what in thunder” was the cause of so much hilarity he was blandly informed that in his anger he had, in mistake, thrown out his own hat, whereupon they adjourned to the Russell bar and hostilities ceased.
A Telephone for Each Language.
Hon. Joseph Royal, a brilliant politician, sat in the House at the time I am writing of, and was afterwards elevated to the Lieut.-Governorship of the Northwest Territories, as was Charlie McIntosh, the urbane editor of the Ottawa Citizen, who was one of the cleverest writers on the Canadian press. Hon. A. A. C. Larvière, afterwards a senator, also came from Manitoba, where, in the local legislature, he had been a Cabinet Minister. He once nearly had to defend himself against the very grave charge of having two telephones in his office, but he was saved the trouble by Kenneth Mackenzie, an out-and-out Grit, who came to his rescue and claimed the minister was perfectly justified in having two telephones—one to talk through in English and the other in French—and this convinced the House.
Old-timers often compare present day members with those of Parliament when there were notable outstanding figures like Macdonald, George Brown, Tilley, Tupper, Mowat, Howe, Cartwright, Chapleau—and wonder whether their successors are of lighter calibre, or if the people have grown up nearer to their standard. If I were asked my own opinion, I would truthfully say, I really don’t know. But Parliament during the time I was at Ottawa and was able to take observations was composed of great men—the pick of the intelligence and progressiveness of the Dominion—men of whom any country might be justly proud. Most of them have gone; but their work, the completed Canada, remains, and is their best monument.
CHAPTER XVIII
The Great Northern Giant—The Early Days of the
C.P.R. and its Big Promoters—Where the Aristocracy
of Brains Ruled—A Huge Undertaking
and a Broad Policy—A Conspicuously Canadian