The inevitable comes at last, and the spirit forsakes its worn house of clay. At the funeral gather the whole country-side about the former home. The carriages fill the road and the yard, and the cottage is packed to the doors. From the town church the minister has come. He stands in the hall, reads from Sacred Writ, admonishes, gives a few words of solemn warning; the procession moves on, and in a few minutes all is over. Back to the cottage home comes the aged man, alone in this world--literally alone, for no one but persons of such advanced age can so keenly feel the absolute loneliness. Forty years ago he might have thrown off his grief and faced the world again, but for him now the day is gone beyond recovery. His eyes have suddenly dimmed, his one-time firm lower jaw relaxes, his step grows feeble. Evidently his days are numbered, and the reader must allow me to kindly draw the veil over him and leave him, as we see him, tottering down to join his companion of the past sixty years, who has preceded him but a few months. But is there in our country any more pleasing example of success than this old couple present? Successful they have been in a most eminent degree. They may not have accumulated any great store of wealth, but they have raised to Canada a family of sons and daughters who are a credit to our beloved country--sons and daughters whose families are working their farms and fields and helping to make our Province what it is to-day. * * * * * Before closing these somewhat random sketches of life in the early settlements and country districts of Upper Canada, I would wish to thank my readers for the courtesy of perusing these pages. May I also indulge the hope that they have given them some pleasure and profit in the reading, and add that it is my most earnest desire--may it also be yours--that our country, which we all love, may be guarded and led by the great Omniscient in the future as it has been in the past.