, no longer being able to
follow it on account of the swiftness of the water, they carried their
canoes across the land to a chain of lakes connecting with the post.
This station has been given up many years, and the river is used now
chiefly be Indians and hunters in the winter.

It has long been known that Hamilton Inlet was of glacial origin, the
immense basin hollowed out by this erosive agent being 150 miles in
length. How much further this immense valley extended has never been
known. Mr. Cary says that the same basin which forms Hamilton Inlet
and enters Lake Melville, the two being connected by twelve miles of
narrows, extends up the Grand River Valley as far as Gull Island Lake,
the whole forming one grand glacial record. From Lake Melville to Gull
Island the bed was being gradually filled in by the deposits of the
river, but the contour of the basin is the same here as below. The bed
of the country here is Archaean rock, and many beautiful specimens of
labradorite dot the shores. In the distance the grim peaks of the
Mealy Mountains stand out in bold relief against the sky.

The country about this interior basin is heavily wooded, and spars of
75 feet can be obtained in generous numbers. Were it not for the
native inhabitants, mosquitoes, and flies, the interior would present
conditions charming enough to tempt any lover of nature. It is the
abundance of these invincible foes which make interior life a burden
and almost an impossibility. To these inhabitants alone Grand Falls
has ceased to chant its melodious tune. Hereafter its melodious ripple
will be heard by Bowdoin College, which, in the name of its explorers,
Cary and Cole, claims the honor of its discovery.--_New York Times_.

* * * * *

ANTS.

By RUTH WARD KAHN.

Astronomy has made us all familiar with the conception of the world
over our heads. We no longer speculate with Epicurus and Anaxagoras
whether the sun may be as large as a quoit, or even as large as
Peloponnesus. We are satisfied that the greater and the lesser lights
are worlds, some of them greatly exceeding our own in magnitude.

In a little poem of Dante Rossetti's, he describes a mood of violent
grief in which, sitting with his head bowed between his knees, he
unconsciously eyes the wood spurge growing at his feet, till from
those terrible moments he carries away the one trivial fact cut into
his brain for all time, that "the wood spurge has