In the greenness of Dominion Square is the most beautiful piece of sculpture I have seen. All the statues that stand about in Montreal are finer than most of their kind, and there are no such hideous creations as are set up in Boston and New York. The Dominion Square statue is a bronze figure of a Sir John A. MacDonald. The face of the figure is all that is serene and benign, and the lines of the body and of the hands are made with strength and beauty. Whether it is like Sir John A. MacDonald, one does not know--’tis enough that it’s an exquisite piece of workmanship with which to adorn a city. And the Maisonneuve statue is a fine, handsome thing, and is altogether alive. The bronze is no bronze, but has seventeenth-century red blood in its veins, and the arm that is held high and the hand with the flag mean conquest and victory. I shall see Quebec and the length of the blue river before I see you again, and they, like Montreal, will be mingled with a many-tinted looking-forward to being with you again. High upon the tower of a gray-stone building that I see from my window is a carved gorgon’s head, a likeness of Medusa with snaky locks. She is hundreds of feet above me as I sit here, but I see the expression of her face plainly--it is desolate and discouraging. It says, Do you think you will see that fair lily Annabel Lee again? Well, then, how foolish are you in your day and generation! I in my years have seen the passing of many fair lilies. Always they pass.-- Tell me, Annabel Lee,--always do they pass? But no--I shall find you again. You will make all things many-tinted for a thousand thousands of gold days. And are we not good friends in way and manner? And do we not go the foot-pathway together? But I wonder always why the gorgon seems so fearfully knowing.-- Always my love to you. MARY MACLANE. XXIV MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE TO ME And after some days my friend Annabel Lee wrote me this upon a square of rice paper: Boston,--Monday. Dear Mary MacLane:--Don’t you know a gorgon is the knowingest thing in the land? You may believe what your friend says of fair lilies. But have I ever said that I am a fair lily? As for my eyes--they are good chiefly to see with. And they are bad for many things. Yes--get thee home soon, child. I miss you when I come to deck me mornings with my lavender slip and my scarlet frock. And the gold marguerites have not been brushed since you went away. Naught have I to bear me company except Ellen, the faithful little tan deer--and she can not wait upon me, and she cannot worship me. What hast done with Martha Goneril the cat? I would fain you had left her here. But Mary MacLane--_you_. Do you know about it? YOUR FRIEND ANNABEL LEE. XXV THE GOLDEN RIPPLE