“And now came the splendid Canadian Pacific—
Through scenes now sublime, now tame, now terrific,
Past forests of fir, and along the wild shore
And storm-beaten crags of Lake Sup-e-ri-or.
There was such an outcry at this that the captain, who was facing the bridge, looked back to see what was the matter.
“All right, Captain,” sung out Randolph. “No iceberg in sight—only a queer kind of ore.”
“I’m glad it isn’t mine,” remarked Tom.
“The Winnepeg grasshoppers followed Miss Bess
Entangling themselves in each silken tress,
Nor struggled for freedom, for when they were caught
They thought them but meshes the sunbeams had wrought.
“We halted at Banff, where the Bow and the Spray
Come leaping from cradles of snow far away;
And joining white hands, the bridegroom and bride
Glide silently down toward the sea side by side.
“Again we have entered our palace on wheels,
And cry out anew, ‘How homelike it feels!’
The ‘Nepigon’ broad and the stately ‘Toronto’
We can never forget, not e’en if we want to;
Nor ‘Calgary’ sturdy, and fair ‘Missanabie’;
But nearest our hearts, there can no better car be
Throughout the whole world, whatever befall,
Than faithful old ‘Kamloops,’ the dearest of all.
“At Glacier we saw the great river of ice,
And a bear almost ate up a boy in a trice;
While one of the girls gave her poor little ankle
A twist and a wrench, whose twinges still rankle!
At last we arrive at our long journey’s end;
The continent crossed, at Vancouver we send
One glance of regret and a farewell combined
O’er the car we are leaving forever behind.
“At our next stopping place we had to try hard
To pronounce the name of our hotel ‘Dri-árd’;
Victoria’s awfully English, you know,
And nothing that’s ‘Yankee’ was found high or low,
Except our excursionists, everywhere seen
Until they embarked, northward bound, on the Queen.
We sailed and we sailed, through channels and reaches,
Past wild, rocky shores and verdure-clad beeches,
Until we emerged from the tortuous tangle
And moored at the dreary old wharf of Fort Wrangell,
Where many a totem pole reared its proud head,
Once gorgeous in trappings of sable and red.
“At Juneau we halted—ah! how can I tell
Of all the adventures that shortly befell
Two hunters, who started out boldly to kill
Any sort of a beast that roamed on the hill.
Their perils and hardships, when distant from Juneau
And lost in the woods, I am sure that you do know
Enough that on meeting the enemy there,
Venerunt, viderunt, vicerunt—a bear!
“Since then our startling events have been fewer;
We’ve mounted the glacier that’s named after Muir,
And trembled to see its blue pinnacles fall
In fragments before us, like Jericho’s wall.
We saw all we could in the fair town of Sitka,
But could not go far for want of a fit car,
And now we’re sailing o’er Frederick’s Sound,
On board the good Queen safe and well,
Homeward bound!”
The applause which followed this effusion was tremendous. It was suggested that the last half of the journey had been rather slighted; but Mr. Selborne explained that he had it direct from the author that this disproportionate treatment was caused by lack of time in which to fill out the poem as originally sketched.
“The next piece,” he continued, “was in the nature of an epic. It was certainly personal in its bearings; but so was every epic, and too much delicacy in an editor always results in an insipid periodical.”
The curiosity of his auditors having been thus aroused, he gravely read: