Jane Urquhart

There was a story, a true if slightly embellished story, about how the Ontario village was given it's name, it's church, its brewery, its tavern, its gardens, its grottoes, its splendid indoor altars. How it acquired its hotel, its blacksmith's shop, its streets and roads, its tannery, its cemetery, its general store. This was a legend that appealed to fewer and fewer people in the depression of the early 1930s.