It was Scott's first effort to redeem his promise to repay his creditors, and it brought to him substanial profits, netting £8,228 "a matchless sale for less than three months' work."

The authorship of the "Waverley Novels" was as hotly disputed as that of the famous Letters of Junius, and the year 1827 is memorable as that in which the Great Unknown threw off his mask and disclosed Sir Walter Scott as the author of these tales. The confession was made by him at the Theatrical Fund Dinner, given in Edinburgh, on February 23d, of that year, and was divulged in response to Lord Meadowbank's toast of "The Author of Waverley." The "Life of Napoleon," which no one now reads, and which on the Continent was a failure from the start, appeared four months later; before the close of the year the first series of "The Chronicles of the Canongate" (each of whose three talesThe Highland Widow, the Two Drovers

and The Surgeon's Daughter-had a foundation in fact), and the first series of his "Tales of a Grandfather, being the History of Scotland," written in imitation of J. W. Croker's Stories from the History of England, and with a dedication to "Master Hugh Littlejohn," his grandchild Lockhart (for whose use "these Tales were written in the interval of other avocations," were published); "The Fair Maid of Perth" followed in the spring of 1828, and was succeeded by the second "Chronicles of the Canongate" and series two of the "Tales of a Grandfather"; the year 1829 closed with the third series of these Tales, the publication of "Anne of Geierstein; or, The Maiden of the Mist" (chiefly the work of leisure hours in Edinburgh, not of quiet mornings in the country, and the last of his works prior to his apoplectic stroke) and much miscellaneous but not unprofitable work; 1830 welcomed a further series of the "Tales of a Grandfather," besides a

"History of Scotland," while "Count Robert of Paris" and "Castle Dangerous," belonging to 1831, and in reality the productions of a paralytic patient, complete the long list of Sir Walter Scott's immortal works.

"Castle Dangerous" safely launched, Scott's career was drawing swiftly to its close, and he felt that he was destined shortly to follow those life-long friends who one by one were falling through the broken arches of the bridge of life. Death came to this "perfect gentle knight" at his beloved Abbotsford, to which he had hastened from the sunny shores of Italy when he perceived "life's candle tapering to a close," and there, on the 21st day of September, 1821, in presence of his children, and with the music of the rippling Tweed in his ears, "God's finger touched him and he slept." Five days later, all that was mortal of Scotland's greatest novelist was laid beside the body of his wife, beneath the sod which grew fresh and green among the venerable ruins of Dryburgh Abbey.

I have not spoken of Scott as a dramatist, because there is little in that con

nection to record. Well-nigh every poet tries his "prentice hand" at the drama, and Scott was no exception to the rule. It may appear paradoxical, but I think the history of English literature sustains the assertion, that a good poet rarely or never makes a good dramatist, and, besides, Scotland, so famous for its poets, has never produced a really great dramatist. Byron, of all poets the most dramatic, could produce nothing better than "Sardanapalus," and Alfred Tennyson has added nothing to his renown by his ponderous historical plays. It is, I think, a significant fact that while Scott wrote several dramas, and that all of them were failures, yet in the cunning hands of the skilful playwright both his poems and romances have met with an abundance of deserved success. Witness "Guy Mannering," "The Antiquary," "The Heart of Midlothian" and "The Lady of the Lake." Of dramas proper Scott wrote at least five, but not all of his readers, I apprehend, have read "Halidon Hill," "The Doom of Devorgoil" or "The House of Aspen." (To be continued.)

"There's too much salt in the oatmeal," said Mrs. Jones to Nell,

A swarthy daughter of the South, who did the housework well; "Too much salt-nonsense," answered

Jones, "you're always finding fault;" "Not without cause," snapped Mrs. Jones; "the oatmeal is too salt."

"I'd give a hundred-dollar bill to get a meal in peace;"

"And I would give my life, Tom Jones, to have this quarreling cease;" "It would stop instantly, I'm sure, if you would change your course;" "Poor me again," said Mrs. Jones, "I'll sue for a divorce."

Bill Brown reached home quite tired and rather cranky Monday night;

I wish you and your auto were in far-off Timbuctoo;

money on a horse,

"When I've no dress fit to put on-I'll

sue for a divorce.”

a different tone of voice at a tramp or ragamuffin from his salute to a decent laboring man, or a gentleman, apparently

the-Sound,

Went touring in their auto to see the

country 'round;

The fuse burnt out when they were far

from cottage and from inn, And rain poured down in torrents and

drenched them to the skin.

"Pat, you are trying to kill me; I swear it, it is true;

sense, however, sometimes, as if by instinct, goes under the clothes and spots. the loafer, sharp and rascal despite his broadcloth. In this latter case the bark is apt to be sharp and accentuated and is the prelude to a "bite." There is nothing sly or underhand about this barking dog. He may be a noisy nuisancewhich most of us are-but he won't bite, unless you resent his opinion of you, in

an unbecoming manner. You may try to make friends with him in several languages and various modes and attitudes, but he will have none of you, if you are not the right kind of a man. On the other hand, if, on a second survey, he finds he has made a mistake, he will wag his tail joyfully, yet discreetly, and say in his dog language, "Excuse me, I guess you are all right and a pretty good fel

low." A barking dog seldom bites. They

will bark fronting you. It is the fellows who come behind and snap a bite that are dangerous among dogs, the same as backbiters are among men, yea, verily, and women also.

The

A barking dog is preferable to a biting dog, but a good, genuine dog has always a bite in reserve to back up his bark should occasion require. snake sounds its rattle, the lion roars while in pursuit, the cat and tiger tribe alone pounce on their prey without warning. Give me the man who will scold his servant girl for wastefulness after leaving an order at his grocer's for a barrel of flour and a ham to be sent to a poor widow with a family. "His bark is worse than his bite."

PROGRESS IN CANADIAN TRADE.

Within the past five years, Canada's total trade has increased by 65 per cent.; that of the United States, 33 per cent. ; that of Great Britain, 19 per cent. Canada's foreign trade is $83 per capita; that of the United States, only $35. Her

revenue is $12.49 per capita, and her expenditure $9.56; the United States' revenue being $7.70 and expenditure $7.04. The public debt of Canada is but $66 per capita, while that of her sister commonwealth-Australia-is $230. Canada's over-sea trade last year was $451,000,000, more than double that of Japan; almost equal to Russia's. Her merchant shipping tonnage exceeds Japan's; her rail

way mileage is half that of Russia.

Every section of Canada has shared in this wonderful betterment. The fisheries of the maritime provinces have steadily grown in volume and value through the stimulus of an annual distribution, in bounties, among the fishermen of $160,000 the interest on $4,500,000 obtained under the Halifax award of 1897 for allowing the United States fishermen free entry into Canadian waters for a term of years. The forest wealth of the Laurentian valleys has been yielding most generous returns, owing to the rapid depletion of the American woodlands increasing the price of this commodity. The dairy and fruit exports from Quebec and Ontario have trebeled in extent and quadrupled in price. The manufactures of the Eastern areas have gradually expanded, until they form a noteworthy feature in the country's assets, while the great Northwest-the vast prairie country, the home of the farmer and the ranchman-is pouring out annually a wealth of yellow grain and kindred products which represents a condition unequaled in any region. that has lacked the talismanic influence of gold, which caused the "rushes" to Australia, California, and the Klondike. -From "Canada's Commercial and Industrial Expansion," by P. T. McGrath, in the American Monthly Review of Reviews, for July.

In both branches of the Cape Legislature the provincial newspapers of the Colony are well represented. Most of the papers published in Port Elizabeth, East London, Grahamstown, King William's Town and Queenstown have special correspondents. Some of these are members of the Assembly and of the Legislative Council. Others are proprietors and editors of newspapers.

Anticipating a lively session, the editor and proprietor of a provincial newspaper some years ago started from East London by steamer for Cape Town. There was a storm on the way and the ship rocked as probably never ship rocked before outside the Bay of Biscay. It was therefore natural that the editor should have concluded his first letter to his paper with the words: "My head still carries the motion of the ship."

The editor was one of the best writers in South Africa, but his article describing the voyage to Cape Town and the approaching opening of the Legislature was far below his standard of excellence.

The editor of his rival newspaper noticed the lapse and, under the caption of "What The Folks Are Saying," he inserted the following item: "That the letter from the editor of The Sun indicates that his head carried something stronger than the motion of the ship."

The reporter for The Sun sent its editor a marked copy of his contemporary, with a letter stating that the allusion to the editor's head carrying "something

stronger than the motion of the ship" had been the subject of a great deal of talk and had caused many a laugh at his expense; also that a number of his readers were anxious to know what reply he would make.

When the editor of The Sun received the marked copy of The Star, together with the reporter's letter he laughed heartily at both. Then he read over his article for the first time since it had been published and remarked to himself, "If such trash had ever reached my hands from a correspondent in Cape Town or elsewhere, I would have thrown it in the wastebasket. Then he wrote his reporter as follows:

"My Dear Green-In my absence I expect you to act as editor as well as reporter. If you ever receive another article as barren of ideas and as utterly inane as the first of my letters from Cape Town, tear it up and throw it in the wastebasket even though it comes from Yours truly,

WM. MCKAY. This greatly surprised the reporter and taught him a lesson he never forgot, viz., that it is always best to frankly acknowledge mistakes, lapses, shortcomings or failures. The ablest editors and the brightest reporters sometimes write. poorly, but not every editor and by no means every reporter would be willing to frankly admit it.

The column which contained the funny reference to the editor's article abounded