Among the well-to-do French Canadian families in the Province of Quebec, a white hearse and a white casket is always used for the burial of a child. If they cannot afford this, they simply hire "a rig" as they call it; and put as many of the family on the rear seat as the space will allow, and on the front seat sits the father and drives the horse, while in his lap he holds the tiny white coffin, and in it is the body of the little dead child. Many, many of these primitive funeral processions pass along the Cote-des-Neiges Road to the Roman Catholic Cemetery which lies behind the mountain--for the infant mortality in this particular province is very, very heavy. On Saturdays, and on Sunday afternoons, too, this road takes a more cheerful aspect, when hundreds of boys and girls arrive on snow shoes, or come in long sleighs, dragging toboggans behind them, for these hills back of Mount Royal are a splendid winter playground. Almost every winter there is a ski-jumping contest, when some wonderful athletes come from Norway and other Northern countries to compete with these young Canadian athletes. Then, too, there are young Frenchmen who love to race their horses, sometimes they practice the speed of a mare along these roads, and then some beautiful Sunday afternoon they take part in horse races along the river road. In wintertime it is so very cold that the great St. Lawrence river is frozen solid, and all day long traffic is driven over this ice from shore to shore. From the top of Mount Royal one can distinctly see the road which leads from the city of Montreal to a good-sized town on the south shore known as Longueil. This road is marked by little evergreen trees which have been cut from the forest and placed along either side of the roadway, to mark the path when dusk draws on. It is a very picturesque sight to watch this river road on a busy morning, when one can see a procession of red or blue box sleighs, each one being driven by a _Habitant_ farmer, who sits on his bags of potatoes and onions and pork, and jogs along very comfortably toward the great city. Once every winter Monsieur Tremblent would drive his fine team of horses over from Montreal to Longueil by the river road to call on some of his political friends and that year he allowed little Oisette to go with him, and she begged to take the little Dudley girls with her, so they were all wrapped up with extra care and cuddled down among the robes on the rear seat, and when it was too late to send him back, it was discovered that Carleau had followed them when they left the island of Montreal and started out on the wide river's frozen surface. The little Dudleys were just a little nervous at first, but they saw so many teams in front of them going toward the opposite shore that at last they forgot about the great river which lay under the frozen road.