able, and to this end
no one cause has contributed so strongly as the automobile. The
exhilarating motion makes necessary clothing of compact texture. This
truth is self-evident and does not require the involved chain of
reasoning by which a friend over our milkless teacups last night strove
to prove that by all laws of the game the auto makes milk cheap.

The burden of his demonstration is this. Autos have largely done away
with the keeping of horses for pleasures. Horses and horse-stables
inevitably breed flies. Flies in summer worry cows, and they, to escape
the annoyance, stand for hours in running streams and do not graze. For
lack of food, the milk-supply yielded by the cow is scanty, and milk
rises in price. The auto upsets all this, and, undeterred by the
horse-bred fly, complacent cows crop grass and distend their udders with
cheap and grateful milk. Now, the reasoning is plain and
incontrovertible at any one point, and yet urban milk grows dearer and
Northern travellers drink boiled tea _au natural_. Cows are the eternal
feminine and will not be explained by logic.

But we are in the latitude of the fox and not the cow. Should the most
valuable fox that runs be called a black-fox, or a silver-fox? What is
the highest price ever paid for a fox-skin? Do not try to get to the
bottom of these two innocent-looking demands. That way madness lies.
"How old is Ann?" pales before this. Canadian foxes present themselves
patriotically in red, white, and blue, and there are also black foxes
and silver ones. The black-fox is only less elusive than the black tulip
or the blue rose, and yet he inhabits the same section and cohabits
often the same burrow with the red and the cross-fox. By the way, a
cross-fox is not a hybrid; he bears the sign of the cross on his
shoulders, and so his name. The red-fox of America is not dissimilar to
the red-fox of Europe, and yet a red-fox in Canada may have a silver-fox
for its mother and itself give birth to a silver-cub. At the Mission at
Isle a la Crosse in latitude 55 deg. 30', about twenty years ago, an
experiment was made in breeding black-foxes. The missionary--Burbanks
got two black-fox pups, male and female, and mated these when they were
mature. From them always came mixed litters of red-fox, cross-fox, and
black and silver. It reminds one of the Black Prince of England, who was
son of a King and father of a King, yet never was a King!

We are told that Messrs. McDougall & Secor