“What would be a good time and place to call on him?” “In answer to that I will give you an outline of his movement for his business day, and you may judge for yourself. Promptly every morning at half-past seven he arrives at his law office in Lower Town and sees clients there until ten o’clock, when he goes to the City Hall to take up his work as Mayor. Here he keeps in close touch with every detail of city administration. “It has been said that not a nail is driven on public property without his knowledge. This, of course, is an exaggeration, but it is the truth that he is the first mayor Quebec has had in sixty years who has been able to run the municipal government without an annual deficit in the treasury. And yet with all his economy he has instituted numerous public improvements. On the strength of this work for Quebec he has several times been reëlected Mayor and has held the office for eleven years. “After an hour at the City Hall he is driven to Parliament House, where he transacts the business of the Province until half-past one. Here, in addition to his general work, he gives special attention to the land and fisheries department, which he has made the most important in the provincial government. He has so developed it that it yields a larger income than any other. “Mr. Parent takes a light luncheon at half-past one, and remains in Parliament House until four o’clock, when he returns to his law office, where he gives himself up to cases and to his financial interests until seven. Now comes a dinner which is hardly more hearty than his luncheon, and after this he attends the meetings of committees, which assemble in the evening chiefly to suit his convenience. This schedule is as regular as clockwork. The Premier makes a point of letting nothing interfere with it. Exactly at the times and places I mention you can find him.” Armed with this knowledge, and with a letter of introduction, I sought the Premier at the House of Parliament—a stately building of massive stone, standing out against the sky on the heights of the “Gibraltar of America,” and commanding a huge panoramic view of the Lower Town, of the St. Lawrence and St. Charles rivers, of the Isle of Orleans, the wide valley of St. Anne and the sweeping lines of the Laurentian Mountains. The ante-room was crowded, as I had been told it would be, but an attendant at once took in my letter and almost immediately returned. “The Premier cannot see you to-day,” he said, “but will be very glad to meet you at this office at twelve sharp to-morrow. If you would accept a little word of advice,” he added, official manner giving way to French-Canadian courtesy, “I would say that it would be well to be exactly on time. By five minutes past twelve, if you are not here, the Premier will be engaged with some one else, and then your opportunity will be gone. He never spends time in waiting. This is what you might call one of his peculiarities.”