Slike stranica
PDF
ePub

docks, over 600 feet long and built of stone and concrete; the Wellington Barracks, and Point Pleasant Park with its beautiful drives, delightful winding walks, and charming sea views.

The park is imperial property, but is leased to the city indefinitely for a shilling a year. It is closed to the public one day in each year to preserve the property against the claim of right of way.

Many travellers enter the Evangeline country from the opposite direction. Leaving Boston, by steamer at 4:30 in the afternoon they arrive at Yarmouth the next morning and then proceed over the Dominion and Atlantic railway to Digby, a pleasant summer resort located on the Annapolis basin opposite the "Digby Cut" and about three miles from the Bay of Fundy.

Its attractions are fine rowing and sailing, excellent salt water fishing, and the largest and most. delicious cherries. Digby cherries. are known far and wide.

Twenty miles further on we come to Annapolis, pleasantly located at the eastern end of the Annapolis basin. It was formerly called Port Royal and it played a very important part in Acadian history. The ancient earthworks still remain in a good state of preservation, and the ruins of the old French wharf can still be seen. Two of the buildings are yet in existence. -the magazine in the central part of the fortifications, and the officers'

quarters now occupied as a resi dence by the caretaker. From this point the route for sixty miles lies along the Annapolis river, through beautiful valleys and through villages until Wolfville is reached. This city is usually selected as headquarters by those who wish to visit the places made famous by Longfellow in his poem Evangeline. It is about three miles from Grand Pré and within easy reach of all places of interest.

As I wished to have a longer ocean trip and to see something of New Brunswick,' I selected a different route from those usually taken. Leaving Boston in the morning, I took a steamer for St. John, N. B., via Portland, Me. It was in the hottest week of the summer when the mercury reached 98° in the shade and the nights. brought little relief. It is always a fine sail out of Boston Harbor, but under such circumstances it was especially pleasant. Never did ocean breezes seem more delightful.

Late in the afternoon we entered Casco Bay, passed in among the beautiful islands, and reached the landing at Portland. As we were. on the way to Evangeline Land it seemed especially fitting that we should stop for a short time, at least, where Longfellow was born and where he spent his youthful days. Standing upon the deck of the steamer and looking out upon the city we recalled his poem "My Lost Youth," especially the lines:

[blocks in formation]

Of all my boyish dreams.'

We remained only a short time, but as I had previously visited the city and all the places of interest connected with the early life of the poet, I was not disappointed.

During the night we skirted the rocky coast of Maine, passed Bar Harbor, a noted seaside resort, and reached Campobello in the early morning. A little later we entered Passamaquoddy Bay and landed at Eastport on the St. Croix river, the dividing line between Maine and New Brunswick.

The herring fisheries constitute the chief industry of the people in this section. Large schools of herring visit this coast at certain times in the year. These are caught in immense numbers by means of weirs. They are then properly prepared, packed in tin boxes and sold as sardines.

Leaving Eastport no further stop is made until St. John is reached about six in the evening. The site of this city is historic ground.

The St. John river was so named by Champlain because it was discovered on St. John's Day, in 1604. The first setlements at its mouth were made by the French early in the seventeenth century.

One of the most interesting and exciting events of this early history is that of the feud that existed, between Charles La Tour, who had a fort at the head of the St. John harbor, and his rival, D'Aulnay Charnisay, who had his headquarters across the Bay of Fundy at Port Royal.

The story has been beautifully told in a book called "The Lady of Fort St. John."

The present city numbers about 50,000, and it ranks as the fourth city in the Dominion.

It has suffered severely from fires and in 1877 nearly one-third of it was destroyed.

The burned portion was soon rebuilt and it now presents a very substantial appearance.

It is an interesting fact that in 1783, after the surrender of Cornwallis, many hundreds of Loyalists left the country and settled in St. John. John. Benedict Arnold is said to have lived for two years on the St. John river at Frederickton.

One of the most interesting sights for tourists at St. John is the reversible falls.

The St. John river is 450 miles long and at some distance above the city it is three or four miles wide. The whole volume of this

great river finds its way to the sea through a deep ravine that is spanned by a suspension bridge. You visit the bridge at one time and you find the mighty torrent of water rushing in one direction with great fury; at another you find it rushing with equal fury in the opposite direction; and on a third a third visit you find no fall at all, but a calm and quiet river, on which steamers are passing up from the bay. One writer describes it as follows:

"When the ebb tide has emptied the harbor, the accumulated river waters fall through this ravine as through a mighty sluice gate. As the tide returns the fury of the escape is diminished, the river is gradually checked, till a level is reached on either side of the great gate, and quiet reigns while the antagonists take a breathing space. But soon the tremendous Fundy tide overpowers the river, bears it down, and roars

triumphing

through to brim the upper basin. Before it can accomplish much in this direction, however, its retreat is ordered and the recovering river presses on its rear. This battle is fought twice every day and the river is so far successful that it holds its freedom and can never be subjugated into a tidal river with drowned shores and banks of ooze."

After spending several days in that section and sailing up the St. John river a distance of 85 miles to Frederickton, the capital of New Brunswick, we left for Nova Scotia. Taking the fast and commodious steamer "Prince Rupert," crossed the Bay of Fundy to Digby and followed the route already described to Wolfville.

we

In another article we will write of Grand Pré as we saw it, and give some account of the expulsion of the Acadians as we learned it from one of the descendants-the only one now living at Wolfville.

LEUCOCYTES. - A LESSON IN TEMPERANCE.

By J. A. CULLER.

If it were not for pain most people would probably kill themselves. off in a few years; but the trouble here is that pain comes only after the harm has been done and seems more like a penalty for past misdeeds; it comes soon enough, however, to act as an efficient check to self-destruction.

Can anything be done to lead young people who are full of life and energy to be temperate without letting them wait for the pain. which is nature's check when it is too late to make full amends.

Young people are usually impetuous; if a picnic is suggested they want it right away; a reward in fu-.

ture years is only a mild incentive. We regard it as the mark of a barbarian that he is satisfied if his present wants are gratified and that he makes no provision for the future; but this is by no means a distinctive mark of barbarism. In one sense this trait is more prominent in civilized people, as appears in this, there is a definite amount of energy in the universe. This energy may manifest itself through various machines and organisms in form of work, and the amount of work will be exactly in proportion to the amount of energy that enters the machine or organism.

Now we all know that if a machine is badly cared for it soon becomes rickety and out of repair, and although plenty of energy is at hand it now passes by and not through the machine. Just so with our bodies. Nature intended that for our life work a definite amount of the world's energy should pass through us; but we may indefinitely decrease the capacity of our bodies for transmitting energy and it will pass by and not through.

For example, if the boiler's tubes are heavily incrusted with lime and the steam pipes leak at the joints. and are not wrapped with asbestos or the slide valve is not properly set, then the energy of the coal, though all given out, does not accomplish the work intended or that it might accomplish under other conditions. Similarly we may eat good food and breathe good air

and yet our organs of digestion, assimilation, and secretion may be so changed from what nature intended that while the energy from our food is all at hand it is not expended in doing the work intended.

This is what we mean when we say that civilized man does not provide for the future. He does not save his organism.

The duty of the young is not to husband his energy for that can be had in abundance at any time, but to save the machine through which energy can be made to do the work desired.

The most effective temperance teaching is that which will enlist a boy on his own side and induce him to work for rather than against his organism, for the purpose given above.

There are many ways by which an effort may be made to accomplish this and one good way we give here.

Probably all plants and animals have some provision within themselves for resisting the ravages of microbes from without. It seems strange that a young plant while. yet very tender is able to survive the onslaughts of its invisible enemies, but it is probable that it is able to secrete and throw out a very powerful germicide which we now use under the name formaldehyde.

Very interesting investigations have been going on in regard to the character and the work of the white corpuscles of our bodies. These

go by the name Leucocytes or Phagocites and are found not only in the blood but distributed through all the tissues of the body. These are composed of one cell with a nucleus and can breathe, and move themselves about much like the amoeba. They lead a sort of independent existence and go about as scavengers of the body. One peculiar thing about them is that they are not limited to any particular place or channel, but can elongate and draw themselves through the walls of the organs of the body without making any hole where they pass through. Their mission is to go about in search of enemies and when they meet there is always a fight to the finish and either the enemy is destroyed or the Leucocyte gives up its life in the struggle.

As the white corpuscle moves about if it meets any foreign substance such as bacteria, or dead matter as well, it will extend itself in all directions making itself quite thin and then project the edges of its body forward enveloping the foreigner and by means of its juices dissolving it.

They will attack anything that is foreign or that has served its purpose and is no longer of use. Splinters of bone are carried away through their agency.

Catgut used by the surgeon and purposely left in the body is removed by the Leucocytes. They remove old and exhausted cells and

prepare the way for new generations. In old age when the cells of our tissues will no longer reproduce their kind then the Leucocytes step in and, as best they can, conduct the organism through old age to a natural death.

The body may be considered a castle and the skin as the wall of the castle. Without are countless enemies waiting for any opportunity to break in and within are thousands of soldiers always alert and ready to defend the castle. A scratch or cut of the skin is a breach in the wall. At this point the micro-organisms from without try to effect an entrance and it is now that the Leucocytes are found ready to grapple with the enemy and destroy him even if he has to die with him.

The pus or "matter" which collects in almost every sore is simply an accumulation of a large number of the dead bodies of our friends who have given up their lives to

save us.

To catch a cold would mean death if it were not for the white corpuscle; and the number of their dead bodies which a child may blow from his nostrils or raise from his throat is an evidence of the terrific struggle which has taken place. In case bacterids of inflammation are swarming in the blood the struggle with the white corpuscle is most active in the lymphatic organs, and the soreness in

« PrethodnaNastavi »