I decided to leave by a train which was alleged to depart at twelve o'clock. I jumped into a taxi at eleven-fifty. "You're cutting things pretty fine," said the chauffeur, "but I guess we will make it all right." Hence we dashed along the road at a pretty rapid rate and I thought the driver deserved the extra quarter that I gladly gave to him. I placed my things in the hands of a dark porter and gasped: "Has the train gone?" My worry was quite unnecessary. In the great hall of the station there were about three hundred of Henry Ford's satellites going off on their Christmas vacation, as well as many others. The train that should have gone six hours before had not arrived. There were no signs of mine. It seemed to have got lost, for nothing could be told about it. Other trains were marked up as being anything from three to six hours overdue.
After waiting in a queue near the enquiry office for about an hour, I at last got within speaking distance of the man behind the desk marked "Information." He could tell me nothing, poor chap. His chin was twitching just like a fellow after shell shock. Noting my sympathetic glance, he told me that an enquiry clerk only lasted one-half hour if he were not assassinated by angry citizens who seemed to blame him for the trains being late. He denied all responsibility, while admitting the honour. He said that he was the sixth to be on duty. The rest had been sent off to the nearest lunatic asylum. At that moment he collapsed and was carried away on a stretcher, muttering, "They ain't my trains, feller." Never was such a night. I made several life long friends. All the food in the buffet got eaten up and the attendant women had quite lost their tempers and quarreled with anyone who looked at all annoyed.
After waiting about five hours, I became a little tired. I was past being annoyed, and expected to spend my life in that station hall, so I sought food in the buffet. As I approached the two swinging doors, they opened as if by magic and two good looking, cheery faced boys stood on each side like footmen and said: "Good evening, Cap."
"Ha!" thought I to myself, "what discernment! They can tell at once that I am a military man," so I smile pleasantly upon them and asked them how they knew that I was an officer in spite of my mufti. They looked astonished, but quickly regaining their composure, asked what regiment I belonged to. I told them, and soon we got very friendly and chatty. They introduced me to several friends who gathered round, and fired many questions at me in regard to the war. Amongst their number was a huge person of kindly aspect. One of my early friends whispered that he was the captain of their football team and a very great person. He said but little. They explained that they were members of a dramatic club, and that they had given a performance in Detroit. We chatted a great deal, and then a fellow of unattractive appearance, and insignificant aspect remarked: "You British will fight until the last Frenchman dies." He laughed as he said it. He used the laugh which people who wish to prevent bodily injury to themselves always use when they insult a person. It is the laugh of a servant, a laugh which prevents a man from getting really annoyed. I am glad to say that the rest turned upon him and I merely said lightly: "There are many fools going about but it is difficult to catalogue their variety until they make similar remarks to yours."
The large football player was particularly annoyed with that chap and the others remarked that he was a "bloody German." We were much too tired and weary to talk seriously, but I gathered from these youths that they were very keen to get across to the other side, to fight the Boche.
We discussed Canada. It almost seemed that they wanted to sell Canada so great was the admiration they expressed. They envied the Canadians their opportunity to fight the Germans. They praised the country, its natural resources and beauty. They admired the Englishness of their neighbors. This is an interesting fact: all Americans that I have met cannot speak too highly of the Canadians. I have heard American women talking with the greatest of respect about our nation as represented by our people in Canada and Bermuda.
After a couple of hours these fellows went off, expressing a desire to take me with them. In fact, two of them tried hard to persuade me to go to Chicago in their special. Evidently they had had a good supper. I hope that I shall meet the large football chap again.
At about seven in the morning my train at last appeared, and as the sun was rising, I climbed into my upper berth while the fellow on the lower groaned, stating that he had the influenza, called "the grip" over here. This sounded encouraging, for I expected to breathe much of his air.
I at last arrived at Niagara in Ontario and sought the Inn called Clifton. It is run very much on English lines and suggests a very large country cottage in Blighty, with its chintz hangings. All around was a wide expanse of snow and the falls could be heard roaring in the distance. I had seen them before, so I promptly had a very hot bath and lay down and went to sleep in my charming little bedroom with its uneven roof.
I am not going to describe the Falls. They are too wonderful and too mighty for description, but they are not too lovely and not too wonderful as a great beauty gift from God to prevent us humans from building great power houses on the cliffs around, and so marring their beauty.