One of the prettiest drives in Halifax can be had in a place called the park (what we would call a park proper they call the gardens). This park, situated in the southern part of the city and overlooking an arm of the ocean, has twenty miles of smooth, beautiful roads winding around, and circling in and out among the trees. The roads were made by the soldiers, who received for their work twenty-five cents a day besides their regular army pay. There is also another strong fort in this park. There are, I think, nine forts, strongly garrisoned in and about the city. I wonder if any of THE PRAIRIE FARMER boys and girls have the same desire that I had when living away out West, where I never saw water, much less a ship, to go through a large ocean steamship. If you have I hope that some day you may be able to have your wish gratified as I had mine. One morning my friend said, “Will you go to a concert this afternoon or go and visit the ships?” “The ships of course,” I cried, and to the ships we went. The “Scotia” was just in on her way from Liverpool to New York, crowded with passengers. It was noon when we went on board, and the long tables were being laid out in the salon. Most of the cabin passengers were out “doing” the city so we saw only the steerage passengers. Now I had heard much of the steerage passengers, but really never imagined them to be such a poor, miserable looking set of beings. They sat around almost anywhere with a plate of soup or a dish full of other unpalatable appearing food and ate as though they did not care much whether they lived or died. I longed to speak to the children and the downcast looking mothers, but they were nearly all of foreign birth, and would not have understood me if I had. Many of the better class of passengers were in the little side rooms at their private meals, but we only caught side glimpses of them passing through. It was a very pleasant sensation to sit in the handsome saloon and almost imagine yourself to be sailing, sailing away in the great noble ship to the land of your dreams and fancies. There are many more things of interest about this pretty city I would like to touch upon, but I fear my space is already occupied, so will have to say good-by for this week. MARY HOWE. THE LITTLE LEGISLATURES. Most of these are in session again over the land. I do not mean those law-making bodies which meet annually at the State capitols to undo what they had done before, or otherwise make work for the courts and lawyers. But I allude to those little assemblies of young folks—lads and lasses—that weekly meet in the winter season in all the thousand and one school-houses and rural halls throughout our country. Legislatures did I call them? Not quite legislatures; but training schools in which legislators are made; and it is in these that our rising youth are qualifying themselves to govern the country that is so soon to be theirs.