That January an English-speaking family rented a house right next to the Tremblent home. Oisette watched them as they moved in, with the greatest interest; she soon discovered that there were two girls and a smaller boy. The boy seemed to be about her own age.

As soon as they were settled, their governess came out from the city of Montreal, on a tram car, to teach them each morning. Oisette learned also to watch for her appearance.

Then, when the mysterious lessons were over, the pupils, well bundled in very warm clothing, would escort their governess to the trolley station; after that they were free to play out in the beautiful snow all the day long.

They built a huge snow fort to keep out the Indians, which the boy insisted still lurked in the woods back of Mount Royal. They built a snow house to live in, a room for each one of them, and an extra room for guests, since there was plenty of snow; and, last of all, they started a wonderful snow man, which was to stand on guard at the house door.

At first Oisette was terribly shy about playing with them, but they were inclined to be friendly with her and even tried to talk in the French tongue with her, for their governess had told them to do so. When finally they saved a bone every day for Carleau, so that he spent most of his daylight hours in holding the fort for them, and when they begged Oisette to show them her turtle, she was won over.

And after a week or so she boldly showed them how to improve their snow man by marking his face with lumps of charcoal for eyes, red flannel for lips, an old pipe stuck in his mouth, and a very battered old hat of her father's on his head, she became their strongest ally. In fact she received so much praise from the Dudley family that she became quite embarrassed. However, she learned to call them all by their baptismal names. Such good sturdy English names they were. The boy was George Howard Dudley, he being named for King George of England of course, and the elder girl was Alexandra May after the Dowager Queen and present queen of England, and the younger was called Victoria after her own grandmother, who, in her time, had been named after Queen Victoria, who reigned over the British Empire so many, many years. This younger little Dudley girl was always called "Queenie," which name Oisette thought was very beautiful indeed.

One day they were all out toboganning together on the hillside when a funeral procession passed along the road below. As the hearse appeared in sight little Oisette stopped in her play and crossed herself; the others, after a moment, stopped their shrill screaming too, and waited respectfully.

One of the children who was sliding on the hillside that morning was a little American cousin from Plattsburgh, New York; being a newcomer, she had never before seen a hearse just like this one.

It was white all over, runners and body and harness, and on the four corners of this hearse were figures made in white plaster; these figures represented kneeling angels, and they had gold tipped wings and were holding long gold trumpets to their lips. In the center of the top of this vehicle was an upright gilt cross and from it floated long streamers of white, these flapped in the chill wind.

Three sleigh loads of mourners followed, and though they had black crepe streamers tied to their fur caps, they did not appear mournful at all, for the men were smoking pipes and chatting together, and they all leaned out to look at the snow man which the children had constructed.

Among the well-to-do French Canadian families in the Province of Quebec, a white hearse and a white casket is always used for the burial of a child. If they cannot afford this, they simply hire "a rig" as they call it; and put as many of the family on the rear seat as the space will allow, and on the front seat sits the father and drives the horse, while in his lap he holds the tiny white coffin, and in it is the body of the little dead child. Many, many of these primitive funeral processions pass along the Cote-des-Neiges Road to the Roman Catholic Cemetery which lies behind the mountain—for the infant mortality in this particular province is very, very heavy.

On Saturdays, and on Sunday afternoons, too, this road takes a more cheerful aspect, when hundreds of boys and girls arrive on snow shoes, or come in long sleighs, dragging toboggans behind them, for these hills back of Mount Royal are a splendid winter playground. Almost every winter there is a ski-jumping contest, when some wonderful athletes come from Norway and other Northern countries to compete with these young Canadian athletes.

Then, too, there are young Frenchmen who love to race their horses, sometimes they practice the speed of a mare along these roads, and then some beautiful Sunday afternoon they take part in horse races along the river road.

In wintertime it is so very cold that the great St. Lawrence river is frozen solid, and all day long traffic is driven over this ice from shore to shore. From the top of Mount Royal one can distinctly see the road which leads from the city of Montreal to a good-sized town on the south shore known as Longueil. This road is marked by little evergreen trees which have been cut from the forest and placed along either side of the roadway, to mark the path when dusk draws on. It is a very picturesque sight to watch this river road on a busy morning, when one can see a procession of red or blue box sleighs, each one being driven by a Habitant farmer, who sits on his bags of potatoes and onions and pork, and jogs along very comfortably toward the great city.

Once every winter Monsieur Tremblent would drive his fine team of horses over from Montreal to Longueil by the river road to call on some of his political friends and that year he allowed little Oisette to go with him, and she begged to take the little Dudley girls with her, so they were all wrapped up with extra care and cuddled down among the robes on the rear seat, and when it was too late to send him back, it was discovered that Carleau had followed them when they left the island of Montreal and started out on the wide river's frozen surface. The little Dudleys were just a little nervous at first, but they saw so many teams in front of them going toward the opposite shore that at last they forgot about the great river which lay under the frozen road.

This shore at first looked like a thin blue line; by and by it began to look like a wall, and at last the children could see roads and houses and churches, and when they looked back there was the great city of Montreal, which they had left; now it looked like a thin blue line.

Carleau caused some excitement by chasing off after another dog, and leaving the prescribed route. They had to stop the horses and call "Carleau, Carleau, mauvais chien," to coax him back again. When he did return, he was told to jump into the sleigh and lie down under the robes, at the children's feet. Once in a while, if the sleigh gave an extra bump, he would give a short bark, but it was hardly noticed at all above the jingle of sleigh bells, the laughter of the children and the squeak of the runners over the ice.

On each side of this road enterprising business men have placed advertisements, printed both in English and in French. The Dudley children found great delight in reading these aloud; for already their governess had taught them to read and to spell very well indeed.

Our little Quebec cousin had to maintain a discreet silence, for she had never been to school and could not yet read either French or English. On Sundays she recited her catechism to the CurÉ, and in another year's time she would go to a convent, to be educated by the nuns, as her older sisters were now being taught.

Fortunately, Monsieur Tremblent could well afford to educate his children, but there are many French Canadians who never learn to read nor write, because education is not free in this province and is not compulsory. Is this not a very sad condition of things to exist in a Christian country in the twentieth century! But we must not blame these people individually. Remember, it is the government which controls such matters. Oisette had a quick mind and sharp eyes and by listening to the chatter of these English tongues she picked up a great deal of information.

Each morning, all that winter, our little Quebec cousin waited patiently for her playmates to finish their lessons, and be ready to come out and play with her. She had been told that she must wait and not disturb them, so she sat all hooded and cloaked by her cottage window until she heard their voices. The French Canadian child certainly has two good traits, Obedience and Patience.

When her neighbors finally came trooping out, she would open her own door with one of her slow smiles and call out "Bon Jour, mes amis," and then Carleau, who had waited just as patiently as his little mistress, would rend the air with barks and yelps of joy, and the wonderful playtime would commence.

While the snow still lies deep in the woods, but the March winds and sunshine are causing the sap to rise in the trees, comes the magical time in the Province of Quebec, known as "Maple Sugar Time." In early days the Indians, who then inhabited this land, tapped his trees aslant with a tomahawk and inserted above this opening a strip of wood or pipe from which the sap fell drop by drop into a birch bark receptacle. This sap was boiled in earthenware vessels. In this way they obtained a quantity of thick black syrup, the only sugar used by the Indians. As the sap was always boiled in the open, bits of bark fell into it and it had a smoky taste. But about fifty years ago, this maple sugar industry was more carefully looked after, and nowadays the well-to-do farmer has a sugar house, and a fine grove of maple trees, and glittering tin sap buckets hang on all the trees; and instead of a large iron kettle for boiling the sap, evaporators have been installed, where the sap runs in thin and clear and comes out a beautiful light brown sirup.

Imagine the joy of little Oisette when she was allowed to go to a sugaring off with her little English neighbors. They drove off from the main highroad into a path in the woods where the runners of the sleigh sunk in deep slush and snow, and finally came to this tiny house in the heart of the wood. There was a fine wood fire under the evaporator, and from it steam was rising. The contents gave out a most delicious aroma.

Each child was given a spoon and a saucer, and in the saucer was poured about a cupful of boiling hot sirup; this fluid had to be stirred around and around fast and faster, until it thickened. When it was about the consistency of butter it was spread on slices of bread and eaten while it was still hot. Each child tried to see who could be ready first. The Dudley children were expert at it, and sang "Waltz me around again, Willie, around, around, around," as they stirred. Oisette felt shy with so many English children and would only say "VoilÀ" when her sugar was ready to be consumed.

Some of the older members of the party tried another method. They packed a pan full of clean white snow, gathered in the woods, and pounded it down very smooth and hard; on this was poured the very hot sirup, which formed at once into a sort of toffee, thin but clear and delicious to taste, but very chewey, somebody called it "The dentist's friend," because eating it is apt to loosen fillings in one's teeth.

Carleau, Monsieur Tremblent's dog, had arrived at the sugar house with the sleigh, and some one was unkind enough to give him a bit of this maple toffee. Poor Carleau, it glued his teeth tight together so that he could not bark, nor could he chew. The only thing he could do was to shake his head sadly from side to side and whine and whine and whine. This act made the whole party laugh in chorus, and dogs are very sensitive creatures, so when he discovered that this derision was directed toward him, he forsook the party altogether and trotted off home alone.

Later on in the afternoon, there came a time when the merrymakers themselves began to feel a little ill at ease, and longed to be off home and get a good drink of water. Then some one produced a big bottle of pickles and passed those about. Pickles never tasted so good before to any one as they did to that sugaring off party in the Canadian woods.

When the little girls were again in the big sleigh, ready to go home, each one was presented with a nice little cake of sugar, with escalloped edges. Oisette put hers carefully away in her treasure box. It was quite a long time before she cared to eat it: and as for Carleau, when he smelled sirup boiling in his master's kitchen, he fled out of doors.

It is marvelous to watch such a winter break up. The snow, which has planted its four feet deep in the city streets, is, of course, carted away on the main thoroughfares, so that the cars can be operated with the aid of sweepers and shovelers; but on the side streets when after a big storm the snow is piled in banks each side of the pavement, it is very like walking through a beautiful white tunnel, of course the tunnel has no top, and one is able to see the beautiful blue sky overhead, and to hear the jingle of many sleighbells, as no vehicle on runners is allowed to proceed without these bells.

The ice in the river, early in April, begins to crack and groan until suddenly on some sunny day, with a roar of sound, it piles itself high upon the banks. The melting snow on the hillsides runs down to meet it; the icicles, which have hung like white fringe everywhere, drop, drop, drop—like ripe fruit. Presently the double windows and storm doors are taken from off the buildings. The foliage on Mount Royal comes out a lovely green, the wooded hills are full of violets and trilliums, the latter is a three-leaved white lily, white and graceful, and when brought into captivity will thrive for a week if it has plenty of water. Summer comes on with a rush, and up the side of Mount Royal the elevator starts running for the season. Do you see the only springtime is when winter may be said to leap into summer!