EVERY summer thousands of American tourists stream over the border by motor or train to Montreal. They move about the big stores, dine at great hotels, admire the quaint shops, marvel at the unaccustomed French inflection and tongue. They stare at the great cathedrals, at the habits of monk and friar, drink without let or hindrance of French wines, go home happy in the belief that they have “seen Quebec.”By M. GRATTAN O’LEARY18 min
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