“Yes, I know. We are a small people,” he said quietly, “but no more real democracy exists anywhere in the world than in this country of mine. We are a small people, but,” he said, with a sweep of his hand toward the west and the north, “the future is with us. The day is coming when along this waterway great cities shall be, with factories and humming industries. These plains, these flowing hills will be the home of millions of men, and in my lifetime, too.”
His eyes began to glow, his face to shine with a rare and fascinating beauty.
“Do you know the statistics of your country? Do you know that during the last twenty years the rate of Canada's growth was three times greater than ever in the history of the United States? You are a great commercial nation, but do you know that the per capita rate of Canada's trade to-day is many times that of the United States? You are a great agricultural people, but do you know that three-quarters of the wheat land on this continent is Canadian, and that before many years you will be coming to Canada for your wheat, yes, and for your flour? Do you see that river? Do you know that Canada is the richest country in the world in water power? And more than that, in the things essential to national greatness,—not these things that you can see, these material things,” he said, sweeping his hand contemptuously toward the horizon, “but in such things as educational standards, in administration of justice, in the customs of a liberty loving people, in religious privileges, in everything that goes to make character and morale, Canada has already laid the foundations of a great nation.”
He stopped short, abashed, the glow fading from his face, the light from his eyes.
“Forgive me,” he said, with a little laugh. “I am a first class ass. I fear I was blowing like a fog horn. But when you touch Canada you release something in me.”
While he was speaking her eyes never left his face. “Go on!” she said, in a voice of suppressed emotion, “go on. I love to hear you.”
Her wonted poise was gone; she was obviously stirred with deep emotion.
“Go on!” she commanded, laying her hand upon his arm. “Don't stop. Tell me more about—about Canada, about anything,” she added impatiently.
A warm, eager light filled her eyes. She was biting her lips to still their tremor.
“There's plenty to tell about Canada,” he said, “but not now. What started me? Oh, democracy. Yes, it was you that began it. Democracy? After all, it is worth while that the people who are one day to fill this wide land should be truly democratic, truly free, and truly great.”