Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1888-06-08, Page 6THE THREAD OF LIFE; OR, SU'NSI3INE AND SHADE. 11 CHAPTER, V. instinotively on their strong point ; and in ten Minutes, he and. the Sq ire were feet friends, united by firm ties of common loves and common animosities, They were both Oxford men --et whatever yawning interval of time that friendly link forms always a solid bond of union between youth and ape; and both had been at the same college, Oriel, "I daresay you know my old rooms," the Squire observed with a meditative sigh. ' I They looped out over ellow& Quad, and h' had a rhyming Latin hexameter en a pane of stained glass in one of the bay windowe.' "I know them well," Hugh answered, with a rising smile of genuine pleasure—for he loved Oxford with e.love passing the love of her ordinary children. "A friend of mine had them in my time. And I remora - leer the line ; Oxoniam quare venisti prae meditari.' An excellent leonine as loon. ines go, though limp in its quantity,—Do you know, I fell in, love with that p.ine so greatly, that Y had a wire framework made to put over it,for fear some fellows should smash it some night, flinging about oranges at a noisy wine -party." From Oxford, they soon got off upon Suf- folk, and tl:e encroaohment of the sea, and the blown sands ; and then the Squire in- sisted upon taking Hugh for a tour dt pro• prietaire round the whole estate, with run- ning comments upon the wasting of the foreshore and the abominable remissness of the Board of Admiralty in not ereoting preper groynes to protect the interests of coast -wise proprietors. Hugh listened to it all with his grave face of profound sympathy and lively interest, putting in from time to time an acquiescent remark confirmatory of the wickedness of government officials in general, and of the delinquent Board of Admiralty in particular. " A;olian sands 1" he said once, with a lingering cadence, rolling the words on his tongue, as the Squire gauged by the big poplar of the morning's adventure to point him out the blown dunes on the opposite shore--".Eolian sands ! Is that what they call them ? How very poeti- cal ! What a lovely word to put in a triolet ! )Eolian—just the vary thing of all others to go on all -fours with an adjective like Tmolien !—So it swallowed up forty acres of prince salt -marsh pasture—did it, reallyj? That must have been a very serious loss indeed. Forty acres of prime, salt marsh 1 I suppose it was the sort of land covered with tall, rank, reedy grasses, where you feed those magnificent, rough -coated, long - horned, Highland -looking cattle we saw this morning 1 Splendid beasts : most pic- turesque and regal. "Bulls that walk the pastures in kingly -flashing coats," George Meredith would call them. We passed a lot of them as we cruised up stream to -day to Whitestrand.—And the sand has abso- lutely overwhelmed and wasted it all ? Dear me ! dear me 1 What a terrible calamity 1 It was the Admiralty's fault ! Might make a capital article out of that to bully the government in the Morning Telegram. Er.tcrryo A? FINt1i85. The Girton governese of these latter days *kande on a very different footing indeed in the fatuity fromthe fortypound-a.year-and, all -found young person who instructed youth as a final bid for life in the last generation, fibs ranks, in fact, in, the unwritten table of precedence with, the tutor who has been e, uni,veraity man; and, as the outward ani visible sign of her superior pesition, she dines with the rest of the household at seven -thirty, instead of taking an early dinner in the echool•room, with her junior Mils off hashed mutton and rice -pudding at half -past one. Elsie Challoner had been a Girton girl, She was an orphan, left with little in the world but her brains and her good looks to found her fortune upon; and she had wisely invested her whole small capital in getting herself an education which would. enable her to earn herself in after -life a moderate livelihood. In the family at Whitestrand, where she had lately dome, she lived far more like a friend than a governess ; the difference in years between herself and Winifred was not extreme ; and the two girls, taking a fanny to one another from the first, became companions at once, so inti- mate together, that Elsie could hardly with an effort now and again bring herself to exert a little brief authority over the minor details of Winifred's conduct. And, indeed, the modern governess, though still debarred the possession of a heart, is no longer exactly expeoted to prove herself a moral dragon ; she is permitted to reoognize the existence of human instincts in the world we inhabit, and not even forbidden to concede 'at times the abstract possibility that either she or her pupils might conceivably get married to an eligible person, should the eligible person at the right moment chance to present himself with the customary credentials as to position and prospects. " I wonder, E+ lsle," Winifred maid after lunch, "whether your oousin will really come up this afternoon? Perhaps he won't now, after that dreadful wetting. I daresay, as he only came down in the yawl, he hasn't got another suit of clothes with him. I shouldn't bo surprised if he had to go to bed at the inn, as Mr. Relf does, while they dry his things for Min by the kitchen fire ! Mr. Ralf never brings more, they say, than his one blue jersey." " That's not like Hugh," Elsie answered confidently. " Hugh wouldn't, go any- where, by sea or land, without proper clothes for every possible civilized con- tingency, He's not a fop, you know—he's a man all over—but he dresses nicely and ap- propriately.. always. You should jest pee him in evening clothes ; he's simply beauti- ful then. They suit him splendidly." " So I should think, dear," Winifred an- swered with warmth. " 1 wonder, Elsie, whether papa and mamma will like your Cousin ?" " It's awfully good of you, darling, to think so much of what sort of reception my cousin gets," Elsie replied with a kiss, in perfect innocence. (Winifred blushed faint- ly.) "But, of course, your papa and mam- ma are sure to like.him. Everybody always does like Hugh. There's something winning about him that insures success. He's a uni- versal favourite, wherever he goes. He's so clever and so niceeand so kind and so sym- pathetic. I never met anybody else so sympathetic as Hugh. He knows exactly beforehand how one feels about everything, and makes allowances so cordially for all one's little _ private sentiments. 1 suppose that's the poetic temperament in him. Poetry must mean, atbottom, I should think, keen insight into the emotions of others." "But pot always power of responding sympathetically to those emotions.—Look, for example, at such a case as Goethe's,' a clear voice said from the other side of the liedge. They were walking along, as they often walked,' with arms clasped round one .-"another's waists, just inside the grounds ';;close to the footpath that led across fields; ", ',;and only a high fence of privet and dogrose separated their confidencesfrom:theear of the fortuitous public on the adjoining footpath. So Hugh had come up, unawares from be- hind, and overheard their confidential chit- chat ! How far back had he oveth:ardi? Elsie wondered to herself. If he had caught it all, she would be so ashamed of herself "Hugh 1" she cried, .running on to the little wicket gate to meet him. I'm bo glad you've come. It's delightful to see you.— But oh, you must have thought us two dread- ful little sillies.—liow much of ourconversa- tion did yon catch, I wonder ?" " Only the last sentence," Hugh answered lightly, taking both her hands in his end kissing; her a quiet oousinly kiss on her smooth broad forehead. "Just that about poetry meaning keen insight into the emo- tions of others ; so, if you were saying any ill about me, my child, or bearing falser wit- ness againat your neighbour, you may rest assured at anyrate that 1 didn't hear it.-- Good -morning, Miss Meysey. I'm recovered, you see:'` dried and clothed and in my right inured—at least,,I hope so. I trust the hat is the same glee;?" Winifred held stet a timid small hand. " It's all right, thank :you," she said, with a mudded flush; "but I shall never, never wear it again, for all that. I couldn't bear to. I don't think you ought to have risked your life for so very little," "A life's nothing where a lady's concern- ed," Hugh answered airily With a mook bow. "But indeed you give me credit for too much gallantry. My life was not in question at all ; I only risked a delightful bath, which Was somewhat impeded by an unnooessarily heavy and awkward bathing dress.—What a sweet place this is, Elsie ; so flowery and bowery, when you get inside it. The little lane with the roses overhead seems created after designs by Birkeb Fester. From out - aide, I confess,, to a eating observer the first glimpse of Lust Anglian scenery is by no means reassuring." They strolled up slowly together to the Hall door, where the senior branches were seated on the lawn, under the shade of the one big apreadieg lime -tree, enjoyingthe delicious coolies of the breeze as it blew in fresh from the open ocean. Elsie wondered how Hugh and the Squire would get on together; but her wonder indeed was libtle needed; for Huggh, AS she had mid, always got en admirably with everybody every. where. He had a way of attacking people " If you did, my dear sir," the Squire said warmly with an . appreciative nod, "you'd earn the deepest gratitude of every owner of property in the county of Suffolk, and indeed along the whole neglected East Coast.—The way we've been treated and abused, I assure you, has been just scandal- ous. Governments, buff or bluehave all alike behaved to us with incredible levity. When the present disgraoeful administra- tion, for example, came into power'— Hugh never heard the remainder of that impassioned harangue, long since delivered with profound gusto on a dozen distinct elec- tion platforms. He was dimly aware of the Squire's voice, pouring forth denunciation of the powers that be in strident tones and measured sentences ; but he didn't listen; his soul was occupied in two other far more congenial pursuits : one of them, watching Elsie and Winifred with Mrs. Meysey; the other, trying to find a practicable use for A;olien sands in connection with his latest projected heroic poem on the Burial of Alaric, IEolian; dashes: Tmolian; abashes,. not a bad substratum, that, he flattered himself, for the thunderous lilt of his open- ing stanza. It was not till the close of the afternoon, however, that he could snatch a few seconds alone with Elsie. They wandered off by themselves then, near the water's edge, among the thick shrubbery ; and Hugh, sitting down in a retired spot under the lee of a sheltering group of guelder-roses, took his pretty cousin's hands for a moment in his own, and looking down into her great dark eyes with a fond look, cried laughing- ly : " 0 Elsie, Elsie, this is just what I've been longing for all day long. I thought I should never manage to get away from that amiable old bore, with hie enoroaohments and his mandamuses, and his groynes and his interlocutors. As far as I could under- stand him, he wants to get the Board of Ad- miralty, or the Court of Chancery, or some- body else high up in station, to issue in- structions', to the east wind not to blow .Eolian sands in future over his sacred property. It's too grotesque ; quite, quite too laughable. He's trying to bring an action for trespass against the German Ocean. Will yo bridle the deep sea with reins? will ye ohms ton the high sea with rode ? Will ye take her to chain her with chains who Is old. er than alt ye gods ? Or will ye get an injunction against her in due form stamped paper front the Lord Chief -justice of England? Canute tried it on, and found it a failure. And all the time, while the good old soulwas moaning and droning about his drowned land, there was I, just sighing and groaning to get away to a convenient corner with whom .E had urgent naivete affairs to settIe.—Myown dear Elsie, Suffolk agrees with you. You're looking this moment simply charming." " It's your own fault, Hugh," Elsie an- swered with a blush, never heeding overtly his last strictly personal obtrervatien, "You shouldn't make yourself so universally de- lightful. I'm sure I thought, by the way you talked with him, you were absolutely absorbed in the wasting of the cliff, and per- sonally affronted by the aggressive east wind. 1 was just beginning to get quite' jealous of the encroachments—For youknow Hugh, it's such a real pleasure to me always to see you,' She spoke tenderly, with the innocent openneee of old acquaintance ; and Heigh still holding her hand in his oven, leaned for- ward with admiration hi his sad dirk eyes, end put out hie face oleee tohers, is be had always done since they were children to. ether. "One kiss, ]dale,,'' he said persue- atvely,-."Quick, my child; we may have no other chane, Those .dreadful old bores willistiok t4 'alike leeches, "Gather ye rosee while yon may : Old Time is still a flying.' " Elsiedrew baok her face half in alarm, "No, no, Hugh," she: cried, struggling with him for a eeoond, " We're both growing too old for such nonsense now. Remember, we've ceased long ago to be children." "But as a oousin, Elsie," Hugh said with a wistful look in his oyes that bailable words. Elsie preferred in her own heart to be kissed by Hugh on different grounds,;. but she did not say so, She held up her face, however, with a rather bad grace, and Hugh pressed it to his own tenderly. " That's paradise, my dear," he mur- mured low, looking deep into her beauti- ful liquid eyes. " 0 son of my uncle, that was paradise. indeed ; but that was not like a oousin," she answered with a faint attempt to echo hie playf ulnees, as she withdrew, blushing, Hugh laughed, and glanced idly round him with a merry look at the dancing water. " You may call ib what you like," ho whirl- perod with a deep gaze into her big dark pupils. "I don't Dare in what capacity on earth you consider yourself kisred, so. long asyou still permit me to kiss you." For ten minutes they sat there taking— saying those thousand •and -one sweet empty things that young people say to one another under such circumstances—have not we all been young, and do not we all well know them?—and then Elsie rose with a sigh of regret. "I think," she said, "we mustn't stop here alone any longer ; perhaps Mrs. Meysey wouldn't like it." "Oh, bother Mrs. Meysey 1" Hugh oried, with an angry sidewerd toss of his head. "These old people aro a terrible nuisance in. the world. I wish we could get a law pass- ed by a triumphant majority that at forty everybody was to be throttled, or at least transported. There'd be some hope of a little peace and enjoyment in the world. then" i° O.h, but, Hugh, Mrs. Meysey's just kindness itself, and I know she'lllet you come and see me ever so often. She said at lunch I might go out on the water or any- where I liked, whenever I chose, any time with my cousin." "A very sensible, reasonable, intelligent old lady," Hugh answered approvingly, with a mollified nod. " I wish they were all as wise in their generation. The profes- sign of chaperon, like most others, has been overdone, and would be all the better now for a short turn of judicious thinning—.But Elsie, you've told them I was a oousin, I see. That's quite right. Have you ex- plained to them in detail the precise re- moteness of our actual relationship?" Elsie'slips quivered visibly. "No, Hugh," she answered. "But why? Does it mat- ter ?" " Not at all—not at all. Very much the Contrary. I'm glad you didn't. It's better so. It I were you, my child, 1 think I'd allow them to believe, in a quiet sort of way -unless, of course, they ask you point- blank, that you and 1 are first -cousins. It facilitates social intercourse considerably. Cousinhood's suck a jolly indefinite thing, one may as well enjoy as long as possible the full benefit of its charming vagueness." " But Hugh, is it right ? Do you think I ought to ?—I mean, oughtn't •I to let them know at once, just for that very reason, how slight the relationship really is between us ?" ' The relationship is not slight," Hugh answered with warmth, darting an eloquent glance deep down into her eyes. "Tho 're- lationship's a great deal closer, indeed, than if it were a much nearer one.—That may ba. paradox, but it's none the leas true, for all that.—Still, it's no use arguing a point of casuistry with a real live Girton girl. You know as much about ethics as I do, and a great deal more into the bargain. Only a cousin's a oousin anyhow ; and I for my part wouldn't go out of my way to descend gratui- tously into minute genealogical particulars of once, twine, thrice, or ten times removed, out of pure puritanism. These questions of pedigree are always tedious. What subsists all through is the individual fact that I'm Hugh and you're Elsie, and that I love you dearly—of course with a purely oousinly degree of devotion." " Hurth, you needn't always flourish that limitation in my face, like a broomstick." " Caution, my dear child—mere ingrained caution -the solitary resource of poverty and wisdom. What's the good of loving you dearly on any other grounds, I should like to know, as long as poetry, divine poetry, remains a perfeob drug in the publishing market? A man and a girl can't live on breadand cheese and the domestic offections, can they, Elsie? Very well, then, for the present we are both free. If ever circum- stances should turn out differently- . " The remainder of that sentence assum- ed a form inexpressible by the resources of printer's ink, even with the aid of a phonetic spelling, When they turned aside from the guel ler• roses at last with crimson faces, they stroll- ed side by aide up to the house once more, talking about the weather or some equally commonplace and uninteresting eubjecr, and joined the Meyseys under the big tree. The Squire had disappeared, and •Winifred came out to meet them on the path, "Ma- ma says, Mr. Messinger," she began timid- ly " we're going to a little picnic all by ourselves on the river to -morrow --up among the sandhills papa was showing you. They're a delicious place to picnic in, the sandhills ; and mamma thinks perhaps you wouldn't mind coming to join us, and bring ng your friend, the artist, with you. But t daresay you won't oare to' -0 me : there'll be only ourselves --just a family party." " Aly tastes are catholic," Hugh an- swered jauntily, "I love all innocent amusements—and most winked ones. There's nothing, on earth I should enjoy al much as a picnic in the sandhills,-You'll be coming too, of course, won't you, Elsie ? -Very, well, thea. I'll bring Relf, and the Mud -Turtle to boot. 1 know he wanto to go mud -painting himself, Ho may as well take us all up in a body." We shall' do nothing, you know, Wini- fred cried apologetically, " We shall only just sit on the sandhills and talk, or pick. yellow horned -poppies, and throw stones into the sea, and behave ourselves generally like a pack of idlers." "That'll exactly suit ,rte," llugh replied with a smile. " My moat marked'charm- idles are indolence and the practice of the Christian virtues, I hate the idea that when people invite thelk friends to a feast they're bound to do something or ether de- finite to amuse them. It's an insult to one's, intelligence ; it's degrading one to the level o#: inn000nb childhood, whiolt has to be kept. engaged with Blindman'e Buff and an un. limited supply of Everton toffee, for fear it should bore itself with its own inanity, Oa that ground, I consider music end games at anburbau parties the resource of'inoom- peteraoe. Sensible people find enough to amuse them in one another's society, with- out playing dumb orambo or asking riddles. Relf and I will find store than enough, I'm sure, to -morrow in yours and Ele.o'e.". He shook hands with them all roam' and raised bis hat in farewellwith that inimf. table grace which was Hugh. Messinggeer's peculiar *property, When he left the Hall that atternogn,'he left four separate con- quests behind him, The Squire thought this Leaden newspaper fellow was a most sonsible, right.minded, lnteili ant young man, with a head on hie shout era, and a complete nom e r hensfo ofthe h a � to and. wrongs of theintricateriparian proprietor's question, Mrs. Meysey thought Elsie's oousin was most politeand attentive, as well as an extremely high -'principle,' and excellent person. (Ladies of a certain age are always etrong on the matter cf prince. pies, which they discuss as though they were a definitely measurable quantity, like money or weight or degrees Fahrenheit,/ Winifred thought Mr. Messinger was a born poet, and oh, so nice and kind and appre- ciative. Elsie thought dear darling Hugh was jusb the same, sweet, sympathetic old friend and ally and comforter as ever. Aud they all four united in thinking he was very handsome, very clever, very brilliant, and very delightful. As for Hugh, he thought to himself, se he sauntered back by the rose -bordered lane to the village inn, that the Squire was a most portentous and heavy old nuisance ; that Mrs. Wyville Meysey was a comic old crea- ture ; that Elsie was really a most charm- ing girl ; and that Winifred, in spite of her bread-and-butter blushes, wasn't half bad, after all—for an heiress. The heiress is apt to be plain and forbid- ding. She is not lair to outward view, as many maidens be. Her beauty has solid, not to say strictly metallic qualities, and resides principally in a safe at her banker's. To have tracked down an heirees who was also pretty was indeed, Hugh felt, a valuable discovery. When he reached the inn, he found War- ren Relf just returned from a sketching ex. pedition up the tidal flats. " Well, Relf," he cried, "you see me triumphant. l've been reconnoitring Miss Meysey'a outposts, with au ultimate view to possible siege op- erations. To judge by the first results of my reconnaissance, she seems a very decent sort of little girl in her own way. If sonnets will parry her by storm I don't mind discharging a few cartloads of them from a hundred-ton•gun point-blank at her out- works. Most of them can be used again, of course, in case of need, in another cam- paign, if'000asion offers." " And Mims Challoner ?" Rolf suggested, with some reproof in his tone. "Was she there too ? Have you seen her also ?" "Yes, Elsie was there," the poet answer- ed languidly, as he rang the bell for a glass of sodawater. " Elsie was there, looking as charming and as piquente and as pretty as ever; and, by Jove 1 she's the cleverest and, brightest and moat amusing girl I ever inet anywhere up and down in England. Though .she's my own cousin, and its me that says it, as oughtn't to , says it, as ougntn't to say it, she's a credit, to the fam- ily. I like Elsie:' At times," I've almost. half a•mind, upon my soul, to fling prudence to the winds, and ask her to come and ac- cept a share of my poor crust in my humble garret.—But itwon't do, you know—it won't do. Sine Cerere etBaccieo, friget Vcnns..Eith- er I must make a fortune at a stroke, or Y must marry a girl with a fortune ready made to my hand already. Love in a cot- tage is all very well in its way, no doubt, with roses and eglantine—whatever eglan- tine may be—climbing round the windows ; but love in a hovel—which is the plain prose of ib in these hard times—can't be considered either pretty or poetical. Unless some Col- umbus of a critic, cruising through reams of minor verse, discovers my priceless worth some day, and divulges me to the world, there's no change of my ever being abte to afford anything so good and sweet as Elsie, —But the other one's a nice small girl of her sort too. I think for my part I shall alter and amend those quaint little verses of Blaokie's a bit—make 'em run : I can like a hundred women ; I can love a score; Only with a heart's devotion Worship three or four." Relf laughed merrily in spite of himself. Messinger went on musing in an under- tone : " Not that I like the first and third lines as they stand, at all : a careful versifier Would have ineiated upon rhyming them. I should have made " devotion " chime in with " ocean " or " lotion," or " Goshen," or " emotion," or something of that sort, to polish it up a bit. There's very good bud - nese to be got out of " emotion," if you work it properly ; but " ocean " comes in handy, too, down here at Whitestrand. I'll dress it up into a bit of verse this evening, I think, for Elsie or the other girl.—Wini. fred's her Christian name, Hard case, Winifred. "Been afraid" is only worthy of Browning, who'd perpetrate anything in the way of a rhyme to save himself trouble. Has a talse Ingoldsby gallop of verse about it that I don't quite like. Winnie's com- paratively easy, of course : you've got "skinny " and •• finny," and " Minnie " and "spinney." But nifred's a very hard case indeed. " Win e " and "guinea " aro good enough rhyme ,; but nob quite new,;: they've been virtu yt the done before by Rossetti, you know. But I doubt if I could even consent to mak love to a girl whose name's so utterly and atrooiously unman- ageable as plain Winifred, -Now, Mary —there's a name for you, if you like ; with ' fairy' and ' airy,' and ' chary' and vagary,' and all sorts of other jolly old- world rhymes to go with it. Or if you want to be rural, you cap bring in ' dairy' -do the pretty milkmaid buainess to perfection,' But Winifred'—" bin afraid'—the thing's impossible, It oeenpells you to murder the English language, I wouldn't demean ney- self—or I think it ought to be by rights be- mean myself -by writing verses to her with such a name es that. I shall send them to Llaie, who, after all, dererves them more, and will be flattered with the attention into the bargain.. At ten o'clock he Mame Out once more front his own room to the little parlor, where Warren Relf was seated " cooking " a sky he tone of his hasty seaside sketohee, Ile had an envelope in his hand and a hat on his head, " Where aro you eel" Relf asked oarelesely. "Ori, jest to the poet," Hegh Mae, • ` r answered with a gay• n. finished any new batch of verses ocean—emotion—potion-devotion t , and I'm pendia, them off, all hot fro • e oven, to my cousin Etefeo--They're. non ad in their way. I like them myeelf. 1 ab 11 print them, I think, in next week's Ath4deeum." (To Die caNT1NuEp.) The Greitt lIJ gfirt. cis Basin. Leeds iffercu i 'he repo the Canadian 1 meat on the "Gr'ea Mackenzie Basin," ` a scarcely fall' to in- sppire the imaginati n 0f all who read it by tide picture which it auggeete of almod. inmeasurable vastness and unlimited re- sources, The mind fails, itis true, to grasp the signficance of the figures with which the report deals. 1t is stirred not the less by the sense of indefinite magnitude which they imply, and by the potentiality of the natural forges described as lying yet undeveloped along the shores of this great Arctic river and its tributaries. It le within a few months of a century sinoo the discover- er who gave the river its name navi- gated its waters, and yet to the world. it . has remained through: all those years little more than a name. It requires indeed a big .map to show its course, and it will surprise many readers to learn that it has a coastline on Hudson's Bay of more than a thousand miles. Hitherto the Mackenzie halt been regarded as an Arctic river, taking its rise in the Great Slave Lake, and dis- charging itself into the Arotic Ocean—an enormous river; but its waters locked in im- penetrable ice for half the year, and tempt. mg only the fur hunter and traveller to ex- plore its inhospitable territories. A hundre'i years, after all, are but as a day when they have run their course ; and perhaps, after all, the true discoverers of the Mackenzie are the mambas of the committee whose elaborate report has now for the first time made known how enormous is the basin whichit drains, how priceless the wealth which it holds within its lande. Ac= cording to the report of the committee, it is a world in a miniature—in all its save popu- lation ; and is the most extensive petroleum field on the American continent, it nob in the' world. Besides its coast -lines on the two Aretic seas and on the Great Slave Lake, there is within tho region a possible area of 656,000 square milds fit for potato -growing, 497,000 suitable for the cultivation of bar- ley, 316,000 for that of wheat ; whilst the pastoral area is equal to 800,000 square' miles,and 150,000 square miles are aurifer- ous. Yet it is certain that this virtually new territory cannot be reckoned as a field for immediate colonization. Many years must pass before even Canadian enterprise will open up the Mackenzie Basin, and penetrate its wild and often ice -bound recesses by driv- ing the iron horse over its uncultivated lands, The auriferous and mineral wealth is likely to remain untouched until the present fields of labor are occupied, and the current of emi- gration flows in the direction of this hither- to comparatively unknown storehouse of an empire's riches. The report, we are told, attracts great attention ; and we are not surprised that it should do so. A terri- tory so rich, and yet so boundless, must have a certain fascination for even the or dinary emigrant; but, after all, the way must be paved by the pioneers, who in the future, as in the past, are the men who first reduced the impossible into the possible. How to Judge Draught Horses. The difference between the English and Scotch systems of judging draft horses has often excited curiosity. The Englishman begins with the body; and sometimes would seem to stick there, taking only casual glances at the lower extremities of the limbs. The Scotehman, on the other hand, begins with the feet, and just as seldom lets his eyes rise to the body as the Englishman allows his to descend to the hoofs. The. Scotehman argues that without sound, well set limbs, flat, clean, flinty bone, sloping pasterns, and large, sound feet, a draft horse can be of little use for hard work, however big and handsome hie body may be. The Englishman will not venture to dispute the truth of these conten- tions, but he finds that the big horses, as a rule, bring the highest prices, and so with him size and form of body have come to be considerations of first importance. It is hardly necessary to say that it is undesir- able to pursue either of these extremes. Good kgs and feot are undoubtedly essen- ials in draft horses, but we fear Seotehmen are, in many cases, carrying their notions too far, confining attention too exclusively to lege and feet; and neglecting' size and substance of body. S'ze will always be an important element in determining the value of a draft horse. Other,things being equal, the bigger horse will always bring more money than the smaller, and if only the greater weight is properly disposed over the rrame of the animal, it is, no doubt, worth more money. On the other hand, a huge body, however handsome it may be, is of value little in front of 'a big load if the limbsor feet are weak and unsound.' Thibet. The attack on the British garrison at Gra tong by a large force .if Thibetans indicates that the latter are seriously bent on hostili- ties. For a long time armed parties have crossed into Nepaul and created disturban-• ccsthere, and several skirmishes have Occur- red. The Bengal Government has been ob- liged to send troops to the frontier, and now it looks as if open war was to go on. Thibet has been one of the most vigorously exclu- sive of even Asiatic countries, A few yearn 'ago the famous traveller, Prajevalsky, was prevented from reaching its capital, Lassa, but a few months hence, it appears, he is go- ing to make another effort to get there, with an escort of two officers and a few men, he himself being in the Russian military ser- vice. Tho real opposition to opening Thibet to travel and trade is thought to come from Pekin, since Thibet is an integral part of s the Chinese Empire, and China watohee With suspicion all efforts to gain access bhrough this " back door " of her provinooe, whose trade and resources ehe wishes to. completely control, Whether the present tutbulenee in Nepaul is encouraged either atl'ekin or Lassa does not appear, but it is clear enough that the roeent amicable over- tures of the Viceroy of India have thus far proved of little avail, Vet, out of the hoe- tilitias may come important results towards the opening of Thibet.—/it. P. Times. One of the Boku(Russia) oil wells recently produced about 55,000,000 gallons in 115 days, The greater portion wee lata, beoaute there was no apparatus to control the etre. ;pet, which lowed mrayr to the rtYet.