Our Little Canadian Cousin

on the country roads. In October the woods were a blaze of colour,-clear gold, scarlet, crimson, coppery brown, and amber. The children brought home great bunches of the brilliant leaves,

, delicately lovely. Most of these treasures, with baskets full of velvety moss and yards of fairy-

preparations, and in making lists of Hallow-eve games and tricks. At last came the eventful evening, and with it about thirty merry people, old and young, but chiefly young. All of the Greys were there, of course; also Mr. Wil

great old-fashioned fireplace here, and a merry fire sparkled behind the gleaming brass andirons. Every trick that their hostess's brain could conjure up was tried. Those who cared to, bobbed for apples in a tub of water, and some were lucky enough to find five-cent pieces in their russets and pippins. An apple was hung on a string from the middle of a doorway, then set swinging, and two contestants tried which could

thing, was, in most cases, kept a secret, or confided only to the very especial chum! Then there were fortunes told by means of cabbages,-a vegetable not usually surrounded with romantic associations. Marjorie was the first to try this mode

d some of the old-fashioned games dear to children everywhere,-blind-man's buff, hunt-the-feather, post-towns, and other favourites. By and by, when the fun beg

elf-were sitting by the fire in Mrs. Merrithew's "Den," the very cosiest room in the house. Mr. Merrithew had a den, too, but he called his a study. Somehow it looked too much like an office to suit the children very well. Most of the volumes on his shelves, too, were clumsy law-books; all the books that any one wanted to read, except the children's own, were in "mother's den." Th

society. He had been greatly impressed by the procession, the hymns, and the sermon, and on coming home had asked his father many q

as now a fully accepted adopted aunt,-"wh

, laying "Rob Roy" on the table, for she liked to giv

what; like the Sons

know a patriot is one who loves his country. What sort

me see,-we couldn't be the Sons of

ed Dora, with drowsy sa

en of Canada?"

u must be in it, and you couldn't be called children,-though, of course,

htfully, "how would The Mapl

scorned thi

ieve 'The Sons and Daughters of Canada' would be the best of al

dent, and requested him to choose the other officers. So he made his father and mother the honourable patrons, Dora and Marjorie vice-presidents, and Kathie secretary-treasurer. This office, I may mention, she nobly fil

r. Her next proposal was a regular course of study in Canadian history and literature, and this was enthusiastically received. When Mr. and Mrs. Merrithew came home at tea-time, they found a well-organized "Sons and Daughters of Canada" club, and Mi

neuve, and many another hero became the companions of our patriotic students, both waking and in their dreams. The works of Canadian poets and novelists began to fill their book-shelves, and pictures of these celebrities to adorn their walls. They had regular weekly meetings, at which there were readings and recitations, and always one short historical sketch. Even Jack learnt his "piece" each time, and said

s, and an ever deeper love for their country, w