ty frames and hulls of vessels upon the stocks. The air
was freighted with the merry music of countless hammers, and

Covering many a rood of ground
Lay the timber piled around:
Timber of chestnut and elm and oak,
And scattered here and there with these
The knarred and crooked cedar-trees,
Brought from regions far away.

Not a port or sea is there in any clime but the tall and stately ships
of Bath have entered. Her name and reputation are worldwide. The onward
march of steam has, however, supplanted the slower power of sails, and
this, together with the growing industry of iron ship-building, has
prostrated the life of the city. The representatives of Maine in the
halls of Congress have striven vigorously and persistently in the
endeavor to evoke national aid in securing such legislation as will
enable these idle yards to compete with other more favored places.

[Illustration: ADIEU SEGUIN]

MAPLE-SUGAR MAKING IN VERMONT.

BY J. M. FRENCH, M.D.

The poet Saxe has written of his native State, that Vermont is noted for
four staple products; oxen, maple-sugar, girls, and horses:--

"The first are strong, the last are fleet,
The second and third exceedingly sweet,
And all uncommon hard to beat."

Whatever changes may have taken place in other respects, in maple-sugar,
at least, Vermont retains her preeminence, producing each year from
eight to ten million pounds, or more than any other single State, and
nearly one-third of the entire amount manufactured in the United States.

[Illustration: CATCHING SAP.]

To the farmer's boy among the Green Mountains the springtime is the
sweetest and most welcome of all the seasons. And however far he may
wander in later years from the scenes of his boyhood, yet often, in
quiet hours or when busied with the cares of life, his thoughts return
to the old homestead; and, as he walks again in the old paths, recalls
the old memories, and watches the old-time pictures come and go before
his mental vision, he enjoys again, and with a freshness ever new, the
pleasures of the maple-sugar season.

Midwinter is past. The "January thaw" has come and gone, leaving a
smooth, hard crust, just right for coasting. The heavy storms of
February have piled the drifts mountain high over road and fence and
wall; and the roaring winds of early March have driven the snow in
blinding clouds along the hill-sides, through the forests, and down into
the va