The abundance in Ontario is something marvellous to the people of the Old World. Look into our orchards and see the bushels of fruit lying under the trees and going to waste, and this will convince the most persistent grumbler that we are all right after all, and have but little to grumble about. In thickly populated Europe all this fruit would have been picked up and put to some use as human food. Every apple would be used, and dried and stored away for future use. It is only the plentifulness of everything in Ontario which causes our people to be so wasteful. See our children take single bites from apples or pears, and throw them away, only to bite another. Wasteful again, because of exceeding abundance. Really our farmers have but little to grumble about, for our land literally flows with milk and honey, and is one of the most bountiful countries in the world. Some of our citizens now and again cast longing eyes towards Florida, fancying that in that land of perpetual sunshine more pleasure can be experienced than in our own land, possessing the four seasons clearly and distinctly defined. It is quite a mistake. This beautiful Ontario of ours presents, as the seasons flow along, a variety of contrasts in scenes and foliage which the warm climates know not of. Our springs are incomparably finer and pleasanter than anything down south, and our foliage is greener and cleaner than hot countries can show. Our summers are just hot enough to give us a taste of what hot weather really is, and make us long for the russet fall season, with its golden grains, and red-cheeked fruits, and delightful sombre days, when our atmosphere becomes veritable champagne in itself, followed by the forest pictures of bright colors as the frost touches the foliage. Our bright, crisp, clear, cold and jolly sleighing is life-giving to the uttermost human extremity, and we would not have a warm, muddy, rainy winter if we could. Then comes our spring season, just the interlude, as it were, between winter and summer, when the old drifted snowbanks are disappearing, and this is the season which gives us the “sugaring-off,” which cannot be duplicated anywhere out of our North American continent. Ontarians have a glorious heritage in climate, soil, seasons, government, and pleasures, and we do not need to be casting about for anything better in this world, for it is not to be found. Any one of us who does not love our beautiful country is recreant to his best interests. Indeed, if he does not, I boldly assert it is only because of his want of knowledge of other lands to enable him to make comparisons with his own. Let us stick to our country and place it far to the fore, as it is now quickly attaining to that position. CHAPTER XXII. Criticisms by foreign authors--How Canada is regarded in other countries--Passports--“Only a Colonist”--Virchow’s unwelcome inference--Canadians are too modest--Imperfect guide-books--A reciprocity treaty wanted.