"On one occasion," he said, "while returning by steamer from Lachine, an oddly-dressed person sailed along with us. He had a short-tailed blue coat with metal buttons that once had been clear, but the salt spray of the Atlantic Ocean had dimmed their lustre, a woollen-striped, double-breasted waistcoat, while a pair of velveteen pantaloons graced his _hurdies_. He was a forward kind of little man from the south of Scotland, who had paid little attention to the cut of his whiskers, and the hair of his head seemed to furnish a good cover for game of a peculiar kind. "The tone of my voice, or some other Scotch keepsake, drew him near me, when the following confab took place: "'I hae surely seen your face some gate afore, mon, but whar it's mair than I can cleverly tell.' "'At the fair o' Minnyvive, man?' quoth I. 'Are not ye'--there I hung fire. He helped me out by adding: "'The Laird o' Birrboy.' "'Exactly,' I replied, and he believed or seemed to believe me, although I had never seen his face in my life before. "As the steamboat neared the Lake of Two Mountains, on the Ottawa, giving the passengers a peep at the wilderness, 'What a lang planting!' he exclaimed. 'I wonner wha's Laird o't?' "I replied in a kind of knowing manner that he would see the Laird presently, and shortly we came upon an Indian encampment by the bank of the river. The Indians were busy among their canoes, skinning some deer and muskrats they had caught. "'Yonder, Birrboy, yonder's the Laird!' quoth I, pointing to an Indian Chief with the feathers of wild birds stuck round in his hat, and long silver earrings hanging down on his shoulders. "'Bless me!' said Birrboy, with open mouth, 'and yon's the Laird?' "'It's all that's for him,' I continued, 'and yonder's the gardener coming after him.' This was another Indian with a branch of a tree on his shoulder for the fire. "'Bless me! He's a queer Laird that, and is that ane of his seats?' "I explained that it was, and that he had many such like up and down the 'lang planting.' "'What wad the bodies about Minnyvive think if they saw sic lairds and gairdeners coming up the fair as thae, mon?' he exclaimed. 'I'll be hanged gin they wadna creep in aneath the beds wi' fear, like Nell Coskerie in a thunner-storm.' "Landing on the shore at a place called Chute of 'Blendo,' we came upon pieces of junk pine split up in thin pieces. "'An' what ca' ye thae now?' inquired the Scotchman. "'Shingles,' I replied. 'The people of this country cover their houses with them.' "'Hech, mon, and are thae the Canada sclate?' he returned. 'Ye hae queer names for things here. There's a shoe like a swine trough ye ca' the saboo, then there's a shoe ye ca' the morgason, a kin o' thing like a big splenchan the bodies row their feet in. Deil hang me, if ever I heard o' sic names. I'll never bring my mooth into the wye o' pronooncing them.' "Proceeding up the river we came near to the public works.