I also remember Capt. Kerr of the then wonderful steamboat, Maple Leaf, which was lost when going to New York during the civil war, having been purchased by the American Government, and I have not forgotten Capt. Bob Moodie, of the little Fire Fly, nor the old lake liners, Highlander, Banshee, and Passport, the fastest vessel on the lake, whose engines are still in active service.
In my frequent visits to Toronto nowadays I meet a lot of old friends, and many new ones, but I sadly miss Charlie Taylor, of the Globe; Bob Patterson, of Miller & Richard’s; Josh Johnston, of the Toronto Type Foundry; John Shields, the contractor; Davy Creighton, who was the first manager of the Empire, and Lou Kribbs, his right hand man; Charlie Ritchie, the lawyer, Moses Oates, who lived on Isabella street, and told me ghostly stories until my hair stood on end; ex-Ald. Crocker; Cliff Shears, of the Rossin; ex-Ald. Jack Leslie; Ned Clarke, Jack Ewan and Tom Gregg, the newspaper men; John Henry Beatty, who was a fast personal friend of Sir John Macdonald; Johnny Small, the collector of customs; John Maughan, father of Col. Walter Maughan of the C.P.R.; Lud Cameron, the King’s Printer; Ned Hanlan, Harry Hill, secretary of the Exhibition, Detective Murray and I really don’t know how many other princes of good fellows.
But I occasionally come across T. C. Irving of Bradstreet’s, who can tell two funny stories where there was only one before; Peter Ryan, who has retired into official life; Fred Nichols, then on the Globe, now a senator; Arthur Wallis, formerly of the Mail, now registrar of the Surrogate Court; the Blachfords, who played lacrosse in Winnipeg in the early days; M. J. Haney, the contractor, under whose direction the Crow’s-Nest Pass Ry. was built; Hartley Dewart, the leader of the Liberal party in the local legislature; the Bengoughs; Geo. H. Gooderham; Col. Noel Marshall; Acton Burrows; Col. Grasett, Chief of Police; Col. George T. Denison, the police magistrate, whose printed reminiscences make very interesting reading; Arthur Rutter, of Warwick Bros. & Rutter; William Littlejohn, the city clerk; and of course, His Worship Mayor Thomas Church, and a big bunch of other live and hospitable citizens.
No matter how large or how small, every city has something or other of which it is pardonably proud. Halifax has it harbor, its citadel and its Point Pleasant Park; St. John has its big fire, its high tides and Reversible Falls; Montreal, its splendid situation Mount Royal and its Royal Victoria Hospital; Ottawa, its Parliament Buildings and Chaudiere Falls; Vancouver, its Stanley Park; Quebec, its romantic history, its citadel, its Dufferin Terrace and its Chateau Frontenac; Moncton, its “bore”; Peterboro, its big Trent Canal lift lock—the biggest in the world; Kenora, its ten thousand islands; Lake Louise, in the Canadian Rockies, its enchanting beauty; Oshawa and Galt their manufactures; but Toronto’s great boast is that it possesses the biggest fair on the continent and the tallest building in the British Empire.
CHAPTER XIII
Scarlet and Gold—The Rough Riders of the Plains—The
Fourth Semi-Military Force in the
World—Its Wonderful Work in the
Park—Why the Scarlet Tunic