Apropos of smuggling, a funny incident came under my observation. A young married cousin some years ago lived on the border dividing Canada from the United States, and while (with the fresh memory of the Fenian raids) countenanced, as was said, by the Americans, expressed great dislike to Brother Jonathan. He dubbed her a thorough Yankee, and she proved herself a very cute one. Well, these ladies had been accustomed under lax custom house discipline to drive over to St. Albans and purchase many effects, cotton especially, at a very much less price than on Canadian soil, and were very indignant when a new official was appointed, who openly boasted that no tricks would be played upon him. That was enough for my sprightly cousin. She arranged a plan with her sister, went over in a light waggon, and when stopped at the frontier by the aforesaid young clerk on her return, who, with many apologies, requested leave to search her vehicle, answered in a tone of impatience, "Well, search my waggon as much as you please, but don’t wake my baby." She held in her arms a good-sized baby in long clothes, a heavy veil covering the face. The official searched and found nothing contraband. He was, however, very much disgusted to hear later that the baby was a mass of dress and cotton goods, and that Mrs. K., as she walked up and down the platform soothing her supposed infant, was inwardly chuckling over her clever trick played on the too confident custom house clerk. *SOCIETY IN QUEBEC FIFTY YEARS AGO.* Fifty years ago Quebec was a prominent military station, and from that circumstance, as well as the fact that it counted amongst its members so many of the truly good old French families of the _ancienne noblesse_, there was then none of that petty jealousy between French and English. They had fought valiantly, but when peace was declared they shook hands heartily and became friends. The English reserve was tempered by French suavity, and as Captain Warburton, in his Stadacona _Feuilleton_, says, "There were such a number of pretty girls in Quebec, and so attractive, such pleasant manners, combining maidenly reserve with refined out-spokenness, they were irresistible, and some English mammas, it was said, murmured sadly when they heard their darling sons were to be sent to Canada, fearing they would be effectually captured, as they certainly would be, in the silken but enduring nets of the fair demoiselles; however, they must have been satisfied eventually, for the ladies of whom the military gentlemen deprived us of have done credit to their native city."