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little white-sailed yachts made a neat and inspiring picture as they contested for the prizes. Those who won went home happy in their trophies of victory; those who did not had, at any rate, a delightful sail. The boat-houses were turned into places of entertainment, and fine lunches were given at that of the king as well as at many others. My riding society had been specially invited to take their refreshments at the boathouse of Dr. Trousseau.

As we were all gayly going to lunch after viewing the sport, general attention was attracted to a balloon which was at the moment ascending from the foot of Punch-Bowl Hill. Scarcely had the light globular object reached the upper currents of the atmosphere, when it was whirled away with fearful speed, for it was a very windy day. On watching the car under the balloon, we noticed that the man had cut himself adrift, and was descending from mid-air in a parachute. He was coming down bravely; but what was the horror of all of the spectators to observe that instead of landing on the wharf, or even in the port, he was being carried far out to sea, beyond the breakers, where the waters were alive with sharks. Steamers and boats were immediately got under way to effect his rescue, but he was never seen again. The balloon from which he had made his fatal leap also disappeared, and no trace of either was ever discovered. The poor man probably met his fate from the jaws of the monsters of the deep the moment he touched the water.

In the evening there was a grand display of fireworks, and a procession of the fire companies of the