After passing, on our left, the burial-plot attached to the first Roman Catholic Church of York, and arriving where Parliament Street, at the present day, intersects, we reached the limit, in that direction, of the "Reserve for Government Buildings." Stretching from the point indicated, there was on the right side of the way, a range of "park lots," extending some two miles to the west, all bounded on the south by what at the present time is Queen Street, but which, from being the great thoroughfare along the front of this very range, was long known as "Lot Street." (In the plan above spoken of, it is marked, as already stated, "Dundas Street," it being a section of the great military way, bearing that name, projected by the first Governor of Upper Canada to traverse the whole province from west to east, as we shall have occasion hereafter to narrate.) In the early plan of this part of York, the names of the first locatees of the range of park-lots are given. On the first or easternmost lot we read that of John Small. On the next, that of J. White. In this collocation of names there is something touching, when we recall an event in which the first owners of these two contiguous lots were tragically concerned. Friends, and associates in the Public Service, the one as Clerk of the Crown, the other as Attorney-General for Upper Canada, from 1792-1800, their dream, doubtless, was to pass the evening of their days in pleasant suburban villas placed here side by side in the outskirts of the young capital. But there arose between them a difficulty, trivial enough probably at the beginning, but which, according to the barbaric conventionality of the hour, could only be finally settled by a "meeting," as the phrase was, in the field, where chance was to decide between them, for life or death, as between two armies--two armies reduced to the absurdity of each consisting of one man. The encounter took place in a pleasant grove at the back of the Parliament Building, immediately to the east of it, between what is now King Street and the water's edge. Mr. White was mortally wounded and soon expired. At his own request his remains were deposited in his garden on the park-lot, beneath a summer-house to which he had been accustomed to retire for purposes of study.