In sheltered places the little garter snake makes his home. When Winnipeg Penitentiary was being built, the workmen discovered thousands of these harmless reptiles in a neighbouring cave. Minks, weasels, squirrels, badgers and gophers are common enough. The gopher is a grey little creature something like a rat and more like a squirrel. He has the queerest way of squatting bolt upright upon his haunches, and staring defiance at passing carriages and trains. Often he holds a stalk of bearded grass in his mouth, and this gives him a comical whiskered appearance. Frequently in the great grain district one sees the “French weed” (_Thlaspi arvense_), which seeds in silver discs. It is the farmer’s chief pest, being highly prolific and difficult to eradicate. In France, its native land, this innocent-looking member of the mustard family grows within decorous bounds, giving no trouble to agriculturists, so that French visitors to Canada resent the ill-will it there excites. The wild mustard, accidentally introduced in wheat imported years ago for cultivation, is another agricultural nuisance, though it works less havoc than the native thistle—a bright-hued offender. A while ago the Russian thistle filled farmers with fear, but stern measures were taken, and it has been exterminated. Many a flowery stretch of land owes part of its beauty to the wild oat, a frail, fluffy growth whose seed sails for miles at the impulse of the gentlest breeze. * * * * * I think Canada’s chief charm is her people, with their delightful freedom from snobbishness and their sense of the dignity of labour. Prime Ministers of Provinces give themselves no airs of superiority, and, so far as manner is concerned, there is nothing to distinguish a railway director from a railway porter. One class, however, does seem to occupy a position of some superiority. I refer to shoe-blacks. It is not in my heart to begrudge them their exaltation of spirit. They are artists. Canadians, not particularly concerned about dress in a general way, have agreed in attaching great importance to a well-polished boot. In the haphazard British Isles almost anyone is considered capable of applying blacking and brushes to footgear, but in Canada the operation ranks as an art, whose professors are understood to have been born with their special aptitude. Britishers on a first visit to the Dominion mechanically place their boots outside their bedroom doors on retiring for the night. How the bell boys smile! The desired end is not to be attained that way. In the morning you must go yourself, with your boots on your feet, to one of the palatial saloons where the art is practised. The result, attained by protracted and cunning exertions, is sure to surprise and please you. Nay, in the joy of finding your boots transformed to mirrors, it is likely you will not bewail the substantial fee demanded.