The Seaforth News, 1938-10-13, Page 6PAGE SIX.
THE SEAFORTH NEWS
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1938
he Little
Orphan
ilEMOONSIMIM-
Then he bade us :good -by, crossed rant .oi the side of Bowman's Hill.
the creaking floor and went away in In summer' this (bar of shadow moved
like a .clock -'hand on t'he green dial
of the pasture, and the help could tell
the time by the slant of it. Lone Pine
had a mighty girth at the Ib•ottorn, and
its bare body tapered into the sky as
straight as •an arrow. 'Uncle Elb used
to say that its one long, na'ked •branch
that swung and creaked near the top
of it, dike a sign ,of hospitality on the
highway of the •birds, was two hun-
dred feet from the ground. There were
a few stubs here and there upon its
shaft—the roost of crows and owls
and hen -hawks. It must have passed
for a low resort in the feathered king-
dom because it was only the robbers
of the sky that halted on Lone Pine.
This towering shaft of dead timber
commemorated the ancient forest
the darkness.
"Sing'lar characterl" Uncle
muttered.
I was getting drowsy and that was
the last I heard, In the morning we
found a small pail of milk sitting near
us, a roasted partridge, two fried fish
and some boiled ,potatoes. It was
more than enough to carry us through
the day with fair allowance far Fred.
Uncle Eb was a bit 'better 'but very
Larne at that and kept to his bed the
greater part of the day. The time
went slow with me I remember. Un-
cle E'b was not cheerful and told me
but one story and that had no life in
it. At dusk he let me go out in the
road to play awhile with Fred and.
the wagon, but came to the door and
called us in shortly, I went to bed in through which the northern Yankees
a rather unhappy frame of mind. The cut their trails in the beginning of the
dog roused me by barking in the mid-
dle of the night and I heard again the
familiar whisper of the stranger.
"Sh-h-I be still, dog," he whisper-
ed; .but I was up to my ears in sleep
and went under shortly, so I have no
knowledge of what passed that night.
Uncle Eb tells in his diary that he
had a talk with 'him lasting more than
an hour, 'but goes no further and nev-
er seemed willing to talk much about
that interview or others that follow-
ed it.
I only !know the man had 'brought
more milk and fish and fowl for lis.
We stayed another day in the old
house, that went like the last, and the
night man cane again to see 'Uncle
Eb. The next morning my companion
was able to walk more freely, but
Fred and I had to stop and wait for
him very often going down the big
hill. I was mighty glad when we were
leaving the musty old house for good
and had the dog hitched with all our
traps in the wagon. It was a bright
morning and the sunlight glimmered
on the dew in the broad valley. The
men were just coming from .break-
fast when we turned in at David
Brower's. A barefooted little girl a
bit older than 1, with red cheeks and
blue eyes and long curly hair, that
shone dike gold in the sunlight, came
running out to meet His and led me
up to the doorstep, highly amused at
the sight of Fred and the wagon. I
regarded her with curiosity and sus-
picion at first, while Uncle •Eb was
talking with the men. I shall never
forget that moment that David
Brower came and lifted me by the
shoulders, high above his head. and
shook me as if to test .my mettle, He
led me into the house then where his
wife was working.
"W'hat do you think of this small
bit of a .boy?" he asked.
She had already knelt on the floor
and put her arms about my neck and
kissed me.
"Ain' not home," said he. "Come
. all the way from Vermont with an al'
man. They're worn out 'both uv 'em.
Guess we'd 'better take 'em in
awhile."
"0 yes, mother—;please, mother,"
part in the little girl who was holding
my hand, "He can sleep with me, mo-
ther. 'Please let him stay."
She knelt 'beside .me and put her
arms around my little shoulders and
drew me to her 'breast and spoke to
me very tenderly.
"Please flet 'him stay," the girl
pleaded again.
"David," said the woman, ."3 could-
n't turn 'the little thing away, Won"t
ye hand methose .cookies."
Andso 'our life began in Paradise
Valley. Ten minutes later I was .play-
ing my first game of "I spy" with
little Hope Brower, •among the frag-
rant stooks of wheat in the field back
of the 'garde'n,
CHAPTER. ,VI
The lone pine stood in Brower's
pasture, 'j'us't Clear of the woods. When
the sun rose, one could see its taper
shadow` stretching away to the 'foot
of Woody Ledge, and at sunset it day
like, a fallen mast athwart th•e cow:
paths, its long top arm a flying pen•• home more if I 'had been :born in it;
Eb
century, They were a tall, big fisted,
brawny lot of men who came across
the Adirondacics from Vermont, and
began to break the green canopy that
for ages had, covered the valley of
the St, Lawrence. Generally they
drove a caw with their, and such
game as they could kill on the jour-
ney supplemented their diet of "pud-
ding and milk," Some settled -where
the wagon broke or where they had
buried a •member of the 'family, and
there they cieared the forests that
once covered the smooth acres of to-
day. 'Gradually the rough surface 'af
the trail grew smoother until it be-
came 'Paradise road—the well --worn
thoroughfare of the stage coach with
its "inns and outs," as the the driv-
ers used to say—the inns where the
"men folks" sat in the firelight of
blazing logs after supper and told
tales of adventure until bed -time,
while the women sat with their knit-
ting in the parlor, and the young men
wrestled in the stable yard. The men
of middle age had stooped and mas-
sive shoulders, and deep -furrowed
brows. 'Tell one of them he was grow-
ing old and he might answer you 'by
holding his whip in .front of him and
leaping over it between his hands.
There was a little clearing around.
that big pine tree when David Brow-
er settled in the valley. Its shadows
shifting in the light of sun and moon.
like the arm of a compass. swept the
spreading acres of his farm, and he
built his house some forty rods from
the foot of it on higher ground. Dav-
id was the oldest of thirteen children.
His .father had died the year 'before
he came to St. Lawrence county,
leaving 'him nothing but heavy re-
sponsibilities. Fortunately, his ,great
strength and his kindly nature were
equal to the ibinden. Mother and chil-
dren were landed safely in their new
home on Bowman's Hill the day that
David was eighteen. I have heard the
old folks of that country tell what a
splendid figure of a man he was those
days—six feet one in his stockings
and broad at the shoulder. His eyes
were gray and set tinder 'heavy 'br'ows,
I have never forgotten the 'big man
that laid hold of me and the broad
clean-shaven serious face; that looked
into mine the day I 'cause to Paradise
Valley. As I write I can see plainly
his dimpled chin, 'his 'large nose, his
firm mouth that was the 'key to his
character. "Open or shet," I have
heard the old folks say, "it showed he
was :no fool."
After two years David ,took a wife
and settled in Paradise Valley. lie
prospered in a small way considered
handsome thereabouts. In a' few years
he 'had cleared the rich acres ,of his
farm to the sugar .latish that was the
mtarth vestibule of the big forest; he
had seen the 'clearing 'widen until lis
could discern the 'bare summits of the
distant hills, and, far as he could see,
were the neat white houses of the set-
tlers, Children had came, 'three of
them—t'he eldest a son Who had left
home and died in a far •coun•try long
before we came 'to Paradise 'Valley--
t'he youngest a baby,
I..could not have enjoyed .my new
I had matchneed of a mother's tend-
erness, no .doubt, for d remember
with what a sense of peace and com-
fort I lay on the lap of. Elizabeth
Brower, that .first 'evening, and heard
her singing as she rocked. Tihe little
daughter stood at her knees, looking,
down at me and ,patting my bare toes
or reaching over to dell ,my face.
"God sent him to tis—,di
ilt he, mo-
ther?"
-
ther?' sa•id'she,
Maybe," Mrs. Brower answered,
'we'll be good to him, anyway."
Then that old query carte into any
mind. Ik
as ed them
'f it was heaven
n
where we were. •
"No," they answered.
"Taint any where near here, is it?"
I went an.
Then they told me about the gate
of death, and 'began sowing in me the
seed of God's truth—as I know now
the seed of many harvests. I slept
with (Uncle 'Eb in the garret, that
night, and for long after we .came to
the Brower's. He continued to get
better, and was shortly able to 'give
his band to the work of the .farm.
There.. was room 'for all of us in
that ample wilderness of his imagina-
tion, and the ory of the swift woke
its ,echoes every evening for a time,
Bears and panthers prowled in the
deep thickets, 'but the swifts took a
firmer grip on us, 'eing bolder and
more terrible. Uncle Eb 'became a
great favorite of :the family, and Dav-
id Brower carate to 'know soon that
he was "a good man to moil:'. and
could be ,trusted"to look after
things." We had not :been there long
when T heard Elizabeth speak of Ne-
hemiah—her lost son—and 'his name
was often on the 'lips of others. He
was a boy of sixteen when he went
away, and I learned no more of him
until' long afterwards.
A month or more after we came to
Faraway, I remember we went 'cross
lots in a big box wagon to the orch-
ard on the hill and .gathered apples
that fell in .a shower when 'Uncle Eb
went up to shake them down. Then
came the raw days of date ,October,
when the crows went flying south-
ward .before the wind—a noisy ,prair-
ie 'fleet that filled the sky at times—
and when we all put •on our mittens
and went down the winding cow paths
Jto the grove of butternuts in the pas-
ture. The :great roof of the wilderness
had turned red and faded into yellow.
Soars 'its rafters began to show
through, and then, in a clay or two,
they were all bare but for some
patches of evergreen. 'Great, golden
drifts of 'foliage 'lay higher than a
inn's head in the timber land about
the clearing. We had our best fun
then, 'playing "I spy" in the groves,
In that 'fragrant .deep of leaves one
might lie undiscovered a long time.
He could hear roaring like that of
water at every move of the .finder,
wallowing nearer and nearer 'possib-
ly, in his search. Old Fred came gen-
erally rooting his way to us in the
deep drift with unerring •acouracy.
And shortly winter carte out of the
north and, of a night, after 'rapping at
the windows and howling in the' chim-
ney and roaring in the b•ig •woods,
took possession of She earth.' That
was a time when hard cider flowed
freely and recollection found a ready
tongue among the .ol•der folk, and the
young enjoyed many .diversions, in-
cluding measles and whooping cough.
' CHAPTER VII
T had a lot of fun that first winter,
but none that I can remember more
gratefully than our trip in the sled
house—a tight :tittle 'house fitted and
fastened to a 'big sled. Uncle Eb had
to go to the nidi at Hillsborough,
some twelve miles away, and Hope
and I, after much coaxing and many
family counsels, got leave to 'go with
him. The sky was cloudless, and 'the
frosty air was all aglow in t'he sun-
light that morning we started. There
was a little sheet iron stove in one
corner of the sled 'house, walled in
with zinc and anchored with wires; a
layer of hay covered the 'floor and ov-
er that we spread our .furs and blank-
ets. The house had an open front, and
Uncle Eh •sat on the doorstep, as it
were, to drive, while we sat 'behind
him on the !blankets.
'"I love you very 'much," said Hope,
embracing me, after we were seated.
Her affection embarrassed me, I re-
member, I't seeme.d unmanly to be
petted like a doll.
"I hate to be 'kissed," I said, pulling
away from 'tier, at which Uncle Eb
laughed heartily.
The day carne when I would have
given hall my life for the words I
held so •cheaply •then,
"You'd better 'be goodt' me," she
answered, "for when mother dies I'm
goin' t' take care •o' you, :Uncle Eb
and Gran'nta Bisnette an' you an' ev-
erybody I love ;is 'goin' t' •come an'
live with me in a big, 'big 'house. An'
I'm goin' t' put you t' bed nights an'
hear ye say . yer .prayers an' every-
thing."
'"Who'll do the spankin'?" 'Uncle
Fib asked.
"My husban;" s'he answered, with
a sigh at bhe thought of •alt the trou-
ble that lay 'before her.
"At' I'll make him rub .your 'back,
too, 'UmsclehE,b," she added.
ueller guess he'll object
to that," said he,
"Then you oan give 'im five cents,,
an' I ,guess 'he'•11'be glad t' do it," s'he
answered promptly.
"Poor Mani He won't know whe-
ther Ire's rumnin' a poorhouse er a
hospital, will he?" said Uncle 'Eb.
"Look here, children," he added tak-
ing out his old leather `wallet, .as he
held the reins 'between his knees.
''Here's tew s'hillin' apiece for ye; an'
I want ye t' spendit jest eggsackly as
ye please." 'The last words were spok-
en slowly and with emphasis.
We :took the two silver pieces that
he handed to us and :looked then all
over and compared them.
"1 .know what I'll do," said she,.
suddenly, "I'm goin' t' buy my anoth-
er a new dress, or msbbe •a !beautiful
ring," she added thoughtfully.
For my own part I did not know
what I should buy. I wanted a real
gun most of all and my inalina'tian os-
cillated 'between that and a 'red rock-
ing horse. My mind was very busy
while I. sat in silence. Presently T
rose and went to ;Uncle'Flb and whis-
pered in his ear.
"Do ybu think I cool.cl get a real
riffle with 'two shi•11•in'?" I inquired an-
xiously,
"No," he answered in a low tone
that seemed to respect my .confidence.
"Bimeby, when .you're older, I'll buy
ye a rilfle—a real rip snorter, too, with
a shiny 'barrel 'n a silver lock. When
ye 'get clown t"the village ye'dl see lots
o' things y'd ruttier hev, prob'ly. If I
was you, children," he added, in a
louder 'tone, "I ..wouldn't buy a thing
but nuts 'n' raisins."
"`Nuts '•u' raisins," Hope exclaimed,
scornfully.
"Nuts 'n' raisins," he repeated.
'They're cheap 'n' satisfyin'. If ye eat
enough uv 'em you'll never want any-
thing else in this world."
I :failed to see the irony in Uncle
Eb's remark and t'he suggestion seem-
ed to have a good deal of merit, the
more I thought it over.
i"T any rate," said Uncle Eh, "'I'd
.git somethin' ler my Own selves."
"is10ll," said Hope, "You tell us a
lot o' things we could buy."
"Less seel" said Uncle •Eb, looking
very serious, "There's 'bootjaCks an'
there's wa•rmin' 'pall 'n' mustard .plast-
ers 'n' liver pads 'n' all them 'kind o'
things."
'We both shook our beads •d•oubt-
fuldy.
"Then" he added, "there are jim-
ntyjaoks 'n' silver no nuthin's."
There were many •other suggestions'
but none of them were decisive.
The snow lay 'deep on either side
of the way and there was a :glimmer
on every white (hillside where Jack
Frost had sown his diamonds. Here
and there a fox track crossed the
smooth level of the valley and dwind-
led on the distant 'hills like a seam in
a great white robe. Lt grew warmer as
the sun rose, and we were a jolly
company behind the merry jingle of
the sleigh 'bells. We had had a long
spell of quiet weather and the road
lay in two furrows worn as smooth as
ice at the 'bottom.
"Consarn it!" said 'Uncle 'Eb, look-
ing ,up at the sky, after we had been
on the road an 'hour or so. "There's
a sun dog. Wouldn't wonder if we
got a snowstorm 'fore night"
I was running behind the sled and
standing on the brake hooks going
down shill. He made me get in when
he saw the sun dog, and let our horse
—a rat -tailed .bay known as Old Doc-
tor—go at a merry pace.
We were awed to silence when we
came in sight of Hillsborough, with
spires looming far into the sky, as it
seemed to me then, and buildings
that 'bullied me with their big (bulk,
so that 1 had no heart for spending of
tate two shillings Uncle Eb (had .given
me. Such :sublimity of :proportion I
have never seen since; and yet it was
all very small indeed. 'The stores had
a smell about thein that was dike
chlorop'horm in its effect upon me;
for, once in them, I fell into a kind
of trance and had scarce sense en-
ough to know my own mind. The
smart clerks,• who generally came and
asked, "Well, young man, what can
I do for you?" 1 regarded with fear
and suspioion. I clung the tighter to
my coin always, .and said nothing, al-
though I saw many a trinket whose
glitter went to my somal with a mighty
fascination. We both stood staring si-
lently at the show cases, our tongues
helpless with awe and wonder, Final-
ly, after a whispered :conference,
Hope .asked for e "silver no nothing,"
and provoked so much laughter that
we .both Ificd to the side walk. Uncle
E'b lsad 'to •do our 'buying for us in the
end.
"Wall, w'h.at'•ll ye liev?" be said to
me at length.
I tried to think—it was no easy
thing to do after all 3 had seen.
"Guess 111 take e jacknife," I whis-
pered.
"'"Give this 'boy a knife," he demand-
ed. "Wants t' be goo 'n ,sharp. ,Might
hev t' skin a swift with it some .time.
"What ye want?" he asked, then
turning to Hope.
A doll," she' whispered.
"White or black?" said he.
'White," said. she, "with dark eyes
and hair."
"Want a real, splendid, dm's' -class
dols," he said to the clerk, "Thet
do, there, with the sky blue dress 'n
the .prole apron.".
We were worn 'out with excitement
when we left for •home under lower-
ing 'skies. We children lay side by
side under ,the robes, the doll 'between
us, and .were soon asleep. It, was
growing dark when lU,nele Eb woke
s and the snowwas 'driving in at
u, a g
r h air doorway. The was full f o
snow, I remember, and .Old Doctor
was .wading to 'his lcnees in a drift.
'We were up in the hills and the '.wind
whistled in our 'little chimney. Uncle
E'b 'had a serious look in his face. The
snow grew deeper and Old Doctor
went slower every moment.
"Six miles from home," 'Uncle Eb
unuttered, es lts held 'up to rest a mo-
ment. 5Six mile from home 'Fraid
we're in fer a night uv it."
We got to the top of Fadden's Hill
about •dark, and the snow lay so deep
in the cut we all got out for fear the
house would tip over. 'Old Doctor
ll•otnrdered along a bit'further until he
went down in, the drift and lay be
tween the shafts 'h'alf buried. We had
a shovel that always 'hung 'bes'ide a
small hatchet in the sled' 'house—for
one 'might need marsh beside the grace
of God of a winter's day in that coun-
try—and with it Uncle lEb began to
'Uncover the 'horse. We 'children stood
in the sled 'house door watching him
and holding the lantern. Old Doctor
was on his feet in a few minutes,
"'Taint' no use tryin'," said !Uncle
Eb, as he 'began to unhitch. "Can't
go no further t' -night."
Then he dug away the snow beside
the sled house, and hitched 'Old Doc-
tor to the horseshoe that w'as nailed
to the rear end of it. That done, he
clambered 'up the side of the cut and
took some rails off the .fence and
shoved them over on the roof of the
house, so that one end rested there
and the other on the high 'bank 'be-
side us. 'Then he cut a dot of hemlock
he had made over Old Doctor, ,bind-
ing theist with the reins. Bringing
more rails, he leaned them to the oth-
ers on the windward side and nailed
a big blanket over them, piecing it
out with hemlock thatching, so 'it
made a fairly comfortable shelter.
We
were under the wind in this deep out
on Fadden's Hill, and the snow piled
in upon us rapidly. We had a warns
blanket for Old Doctor and two big
.:buffalo .robes (for .our own use. We
;gave him a goad feed of 'hay and oats,
and 'then Uncle Eb cut up a fence
rail with our hatchet and built a roar-
ing fire in the stove. We had got a 'bit
chilly .wading in the snow, and the
fire gave us a mighty sense of conn -
fort.
"I thought somethin' might hap-
pen," said Uncle E'b, as he hung his
lantern to the ridge' pole and took a
big paper parcel out of his great coat
pocket. "I thought mebbe somethin'
might happen, an' so I .brought along
a 'bite o' luncheon,"
He gave us dried herring and bread
and butter and cheese.
"'S a little dry," he remarked,
while we were' eating, "but it's dryer
w here there's none."
We .had a pail of snow on tap of
the little store and plenty of good
'drinkin'g water for ourselves and the
'Old Doctor. in a few minutes.
After supper Uncle Eb went up the
side of the cut and brought 'back a lot
of hemlock boughs and spread them
under Old Doctor for bedding.
Then we all sat around the stove
on the warm robes and listened to the
wind howling above our little roof and
the stories of Uncle •Ebb. The hissing
of the snow as it beat upon the sled
house grew fainter by and by, and
Uncle Eb said he guessed we were
pretty well covered up. We fell asleep
soon. I remember he stopped in the
middle of a wolf story, and, seeing
that our eyes were strut, pulled us
back from the !fire a little and covered
us with one of the robes. It had been
a mighty struggle between Sleep and
Romance, and Sleep had won. 'I rous-
ed myself and begged him to go on
with the story, ibut he only said,
"H'us'h, 'boy; it's (bedtime," and turn-
ed 'up the lantern and .went out of
doors. I woke once o'r twice •in the
night and saw him putting wood on
the fire. He 'had put out the light. The
gleam of the fire shone on his face
when the ,opened the stove .door.
5"Gittin' a lectle cool here, Uncle
'lib," he was saying to himself.
(To be continued.)
"'There are many ' old unprofitable
pastures to be seen 'in the countryside,
heavily infested .with 'weeds—golden-
rod, 'Canadian thistle, wild carrot,
etc." says Dr. O. McConkey of the
Ontario Agricultural College, and he
continues:"These can 'be 'improved
200 to 3001% by I(it :fall .plowing, 1(2)
cropping for om'e or two years to :clean
off weeds, t(0) raising the soil 'fertili-
ty level, 104) seeding to a well 'balan-
ced pasture .mixture of legumes and
grasses.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS
Medical
SEAFORTH CLINIC
Dr. E. A. McMaster,, M.B., Gradu-
ate of University • of Toronto.
J. D. Coiquhoun, M.D., C.M., 'Grad-
uate of 'Dalhousie University, Halifax.
The Clinic is fully equipped with
complete and modern x-ray and other
up -Ito -date diagnostic and th•ereuptic
equipment.
Dr. Margaret K. 'Cam'pbell, M.D.,
LA,B.P., Specialist in Diseases in
Infants and Children, a e , will be at the
'Clinic last Thursday in every month:
from 31 t6'6 p.m.
Dr. F. J. R. Forster, Specialist in
Diseases of the Ear, Eye, Nose and
Throat, will be at the Clinic the first
Tuesday in every month from 4 to
6 pan.
Free well -baby clinic will be held.
on the second and last Thursday in
every month from 1 to 2 p.m.
MAW
W. C. S'PROAT, M.D., F.A.C.S.
Surgery
Phone 90-W. Office John. St., Seaforth
DR. H. HUGH ROSS, Physician
and Surgeon Late •of Landon Hos-
pital, London, England. Special at-
tention to diseases of the ey.e, ear,
nose and throat. Office and residence
behind Dominion Bank. Office Phone
No. 5; Residence Phone 104.
DR. F. J. BURROWS, ,Office Main
St, Seaforth, over Dominion Bank.
Hours 2-15 and 7 to 8 p.m. and by ap-
pointment. Residence, 'Goderich St.,
two doors west of 'United Church,
Phone 416,
DR, F. J. R. FO.RST'ER— Eye
Ear, Nose and Throat. Graduate in
Medicine, University of Toronto 116997.
Late Assistant New York Ophthal-
mic and Aural Institute, Moorefield's
Eye, and 'Golden Square throat hospi- •
tats, Landon. At. Commercial 'Hotel,
Seaforth, third Wednesday in each
month from 1.30 p.m. to 3 p.m.
Auctioneer.
GEORGE ELLIOTT, Licensed
Auctioneer for the County of Huron.
Arrangements can be 'made for Sale
Date at The Seaforth News. Charges
mbderate and satisfaction guaranteed
F. W. AHR'ENS, Licensed Aucitiot
eer for Perth and Huron Counties,
Sales Solicited. Terrns on Application.
Farm Stock, chattels and real estate
property, R. R. No. 4, Mitchell.
Phone 634 r 6. Apply at this office.
WATSON & REID
REAL ESTATE
AND INSURANCE AGENCY
(Successors to James Watson)
MAIN ST., SEAFORTH, ONT.
All kinds of Insurance risks effect-
ed at lowest rates in 'First -Class
Companies.
THE McKILLOP
Mutual Fire Insurance C
HEAD OFFICE—SEAFORTH, Ont.
OFIFICERS
President, Thomas Moylan, Sea -
forth; Vice President, William Knox,
Londesboro; Secretary Treasurer, M
, A. Reid, Seaforth.
AGENTS
F. McKercher, R.R.Il, Dublin; John
E. Pepper, R.R.1, Brucefield; E. R. G.
Jarmouth, Brodhagen; James Watt,
Blyth; C. F. Hewitt, Kincardine;
Wm. Yeo, Holmesville.
DIRECTOR'S
Alex.' Broadfoot, Seaforth No, 3;
James S'holdice, Walton; Wm. Knox,
Londesboro; George Leonhardt,
Bornholm No. 1; Frank 'McGregor,
Clinton No. 5; James Connolly, God-
erich; Alex MdEwing, Blyth No. 1;
Thomas Moylan, Seaforth No. 5;
Wm. R. Archibald, Sealfarth No. 4.
Parties desirous to effect insurance
or transact other business, will be
promptly attended to 'by applications
to any of the above named officers
addressed to their respective post -
offices.
Dry Bean Crop
Harvesting of dry beans has made
good+progress in Western (Ontario. In
Scent 'county the yieldis variable with
fields which .escaped excessive mois-
ture fairly good. 'In Middlesex and
Huron counties prospects are consid-
ered average. For the province as a
whole the yield is now forecast 'at
d17.8 'bushels per acre as compared
with 119.0 (bushels last year. The out-
look is good for a normal crop of
corn for husking, although in some
parts of Kent county some .damage
was caused by stories,