“Doc” Jenkins was a brawny athlete in his younger days. While in the House he always captained the Parliamentary cricket team which annually tried conclusions with the Press Gallery. I recall an amusing incident which happened one Saturday just before the annual match commenced. There was a great crowd of spectators and it was difficult to keep them off the field of play. Mr. Kimber, the little gentleman usher of the Black Rod, who thought he owned the Parliament buildings, strenuously resented being ordered behind the ropes and the crowd of onlookers greatly enjoyed the polite but forcible way in which Dr. Jenkins enforced the rules against the irate little gentleman. Then there was S. J. Dawson, “Smooth Bore” Dawson, they called him, for the quiet slickness of his speech, who was the builder of the Dawson Road, which first opened the way from the head of Lake Superior through hundreds of miles of wilderness to the Red River. There was also J. Israel Tarte, who, when a Conservative, was defeated in Quebec, if I remember aright, by his Liberal opponents scattering thousands of his photographs with him wearing a masonic apron. One of Mr. Tarte’s trite sayings was, when accused of corrupting a constituency, “Elections are not won with prayers.” The Social Side of the House. Parliament has its social side, and I found in the years I was at Ottawa that friendships did not respect party lines there, as was commonly supposed. The case of David Mills and Sir John Macdonald, already mentioned, is on illustration. There we had a repetition of the story of David and “John-A-than.” Sir John loved to hear David hold forth on constitutional questions and would listen to him by the hour, although he once called him “a mass of undigested information.” Often the two would talk matters over sitting side by side in the House, and it was an open secret that the Honorable David might have had a portfolio in Sir John’s cabinet any time he desired. One of the men who helped personal friendships in a very practical manner was Alonzo Wright, known to the House, if not to the country, as the “King of the Gatineau.” Alonzo was comfortably situated so far as this world’s goods are concerned. He was descended from the first owner of the site of the city of Hull, and he had married the granddaughter of the first owner of the site of the city of Ottawa. At his fine estate at Ironsides up the Gatineau River, he gathered every Saturday members of Parliament from both sides of the House. He was a veritable John Bull in personal appearance, and his hospitality was of the John Bull kind. Party bitterness gave way in the presence of the “King of the Gatineau,” and many a politician found that the member on the opposite side of whom at first he did not think much was not such a bad fellow after all.