The Guests Were Escorted Down The Avenue By Their Host And His Family, And As He Bade Them Good Night, The Shouts And Merry Laughter Of The Younger Ones Rang Joyfully In The Night Air, Startling The Passers By With Their Frolicsome Happiness.

Mr. Perrault's table had a wide reputation, and although he never issued general invitations, it was rarely without two, or more, guests, for those who happened to be at the Asyle at meal time were cordially invited to join in the family repast.

From taste and habit, his board ever presented a tempting display; but, as regards himself, he was most abstemious, partaking sparingly and of but few dishes, while to his guests his hospitality was unbounded. His old cook sometimes found her task hard, or pretended to; and on one occasion, returning from confession, she remarked that she had said to M. le Cure, when he counselled patience and submission, "je voudrais bien vous y voir," (I would like to see you in my place). Even in those days cooks were testy, for, when Mr. Perrault found fault with her, she would answer as impertinently as one could in these days: "voulez-vous que je vous dise la verite? Vous commencez a etre degoute de ma cuisine," (Do you want me to tell you the truth? You are getting tired of my cooking). To the tried and impatient, the above incidents will cause them to ask themselves if there be any truth in the old saying: "God sent us food and the devil sent us cooks."

A custom illustrative of the habits of that period, was the visit of relations on New Year's morning. Old and young presented themselves at five o'clock and repaired in a file to Mr. Perrault's bedroom to receive his blessing. He afterwards rose, dressed and made all happy by giving them suitable presents and paying graceful compliments. Later in the day was witnessed a still more interesting scene, when his pupils, of both sexes, and doubtless to their fullest number, arrived at his hospitable mansion to offer him their grateful acknowledgements of his kindness. A table, close by where he sat, in a large arm chair, was covered with piles of "horns of plenty," filled with sweetmeats, and to each he presented one, with a small piece of silver; and these children, who needed more substantial gifts, had but to make their wants known and they were rarely refused.

On that day he also made calls immediately after Grand Mass, in the extremity of his politeness carrying his hat under his arm, regardless of the weather, with the queue of his wig blown to and fro by the wind. His arrival, as a matter of coarse, caused a social stir, often recalled with pleasure by many afterwards.

MARCHMONT.

"Oh! give me a home on that bold classic height, Where in sweet contemplation in age's dark night, I may tread o'er the plain where as histories tell Britain's stout-hearted Wolfe in his victory fell."

Adjoining the expanse of table land, now known as the Plains of Abraham, and divided from it to the east by a high fence, lies with a southern exposure a level and well-cultivated farm - Marchmont - tastefully laid out some sixty summers ago by Sir John Harvey, next occupied for several years by Sir Thomas Noel Hill, subsequently owned by Hon.

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