The Saxon coloring prevailed;
three-fourths of the eyes were blue, with hair of that pale ash-brown
which the French call "_blonde cendree_" Out of them all there was but one
child who looked sickly. He had evidently met with some accident, and was
lame. Afterward, as the congregation assembled, I watched the fathers and
mothers of these children. They, too, were broad-shouldered, tall, and
straight, especially the women. Even old women were straight, like the
negroes one sees at the South, walking with burdens on their heads.
Five days later I saw in Halifax the celebration of the anniversary of the
settlement of the province. The children of the city and of some of the
neighboring towns marched in "bands of hope" and processions, such as we
see in the cities of the States on the Fourth of July. This was just the
opportunity I wanted. It was the same here as in the country. I counted on
that day just eleven sickly-looking children; no more! Such brilliant
cheeks, such merry eyes, such evident strength; it was a scene to kindle
the dullest soul.
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