A very illuminating incident occurred at the Union Station on one of Sir Wilfrid’s last visits to Toronto which reveals the manner of his appeal to his people. Two young ladies spied the old statesman walking up and down the platform by his private car. One of them insisted that it was Sir Wilfrid, the other that it was not. A newspaper reporter overheard the argument and settled it by answering them that it was, indeed, the dean of the House of Commons. “I wonder if we could shake hands with him?” enquired the girls, excitedly. The reporter approached Sir Wilfrid and said: “There are two young ladies who would esteem it an honor to shake your hand. May I bring them to you, Sir Wilfrid?” “You may NOT, my young friend!” said Sir Wilfrid, “But you may take me to them.” Which he did, and so gracefully added to his legions. Much has been said of his affection for children, another expression after all, of that same kindness and dignity. A Toronto newspaper editor when a boy of fourteen, wrote a long letter to Sir Wilfrid from the boy’s point of view, referring to politics and to Sir Wilfrid’s stand on prohibition and other reforms. Deep as he was in the work of Parliament at the time, Sir Wilfrid did not neglect to reply promptly, and in a fine, courteous letter, said that he would be glad to discuss the questions at greater length when he should happen to visit the lad’s home-town. And when Sir Wilfrid passed through that way, the lad was invited to dinner with him. The politically “kind” man couldn’t do that. It required Sir Wilfrid’s genuine emotions towards the young. While humor did not abound in Sir Wilfrid’s speeches and debates, he had a shrewd wit, equal to all occasions. In a debate twitting Sir Charles Tupper on Sir Charles’s reminiscences of his political services, Sir Wilfrid said that between Sir Charles and Sir John A. Macdonald they had sailed the ship of state pretty successfully, Sir John supplying the brains and Sir Charles supplying the wind to fill the sails. * * * * *