"All aboard," and away we go again as fast as steam and a strong current can take us, passing an island here and there, a town or a village half French and English, with a sprinkling of the Indian tribes, on the banks of the river now and then. But by this time it is necessary to go below again and dine. Bed, board, and travelling, are all included in the fare, so everyone goes to dinner. There is, however, so much to see during this delightful trip, that nobody likes to be below any longer than can be avoided. Immediately after dinner most are on deck again, anxious to see all that is to be seen on this magnificent river. The sights are various and highly interesting to the mind or "objectives" of either artist or photographer. Perhaps one of the most novel subjects for the camera and a day's photographing would be "Life on a Raft," as you see them drifting down the St. Lawrence. There is an immense raft--a long, low, flat, floating island, studded with twenty or thirty sails, and half a dozen huts, peopled with men, women, and children, the little ones playing about as if they were on a "plank road," or in a garden. It is "washing day," and the clean clothes are drying in the sun and breeze--indicative of the strictest domestic economy, and scrupulous cleanliness of those little huts, the many-coloured garments giving the raft quite a gay appearance, as if it were decked with the "flags of all nations." But what a life of tedious monotony it must be, drifting down the river in this way for hundreds of miles, from the upper part of Lake Ontario to Montreal or Quebec. How they get down the rapids of the St. Lawrence I do not know, but I should think they run considerable risk of being washed off; the raft seems too low in the water, and if not extremely well fastened, might part and be broken up. We passed two or three of these rafts, one a very large one, made up of thousands of timbers laid across and across like warp and weft; yet the people seemed happy enough on these "timber islands;" we passed them near enough to see their faces and hear their voices, and I regretted I could not "catch their shadows," or stop and have an hour or two's work among them with the camera or the pencil; but we passed them by as if they were a fixture in the river, and they gave us a shout of "God speed," as if they did not envy our better pace in the least.