My friend, Mr. Egerton R. Young, has asked me to write a few words of preface to his book. Although he needs no words of mine to introduce him to the people "at home" as the Canadians call the Motherland, I very gladly comply with his request. It was on a sunny day in the early part of May, 1887, that I met Mr. Young away at Meaford on the shores of Georgian Bay. We passed the river, -crowded with boys and men snatching with leaded hooks at the mullet...