The brightest
sunlight I ever saw was dancing and riding on the green sparkling
ripples that wrinkled the broad surging surface before me. Beside me
on a bench under the awning sat a party of American ladies from the
other side--at least so I conjectured, and with reason. A look decided
it. They were clad in pronouncedly cool costumes, dresses that would
make a full ball toilet in Canada, but which exposed much prettiness
to the ruthless action of the sun and wind on this hot midsummer
afternoon. They were using their lips and tongues in a violent manner,
accompanying commonplace remarks with the most exaggerated varieties
of facial expressions I ever saw. But they were only harbingers of
what one meets on landing. These strangely attired damsels in
elaborate head-gear and high-heeled shoes strutted about the streets
of Ogdensburg in any number. They give life to the pretty town I must
admit, and excite the interest of the uninitiated tourist who is
accustomed to judge women, especially, according to the standard
peculiar to Canada. It is a wonder to me that the drowsy and vapid
condition of Ogdensburg's _vis-a-vis_ does not check, in some measure,
the animation and spirit of that busy town. There was more life there
on that sleepy summer afternoon than I have seen in a month in some of
our cities, with all their pretensions. It is only fair to the United
States to admit that the spirit of progress and enterprise underlies
every square inch of its soil and animates every fibre of its
constitution.
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