We wish to keep the attention of wheat-raisers fixed upon the Saskatchewan variety of wheat until seeding time is over, for we believe it worthy of extended trial. Read the advertisement of W. J. Abernethy & Co. They will sell the seed at reasonable figures, and its reliability can be depended upon.
I don't believe you ever
Knew any one so silly
As the girl I'm going to tell about—
A little girl named Dilly,
Dilly-dally Dilly,
Oh, she is very slow,
She drags her feet
Along the street,
And dilly-dallies so!
She's always late to breakfast
Without a bit of reason,
For Bridget rings and rings the bell
And wakes her up in season.
Dilly-dally Dilly,
How can you be so slow?
Why don't you try
To be more spry,
And not dilly-dally so?
'Tis just the same at evening;
And it's really quite distressing
To see the time that Dilly wastes
In dreaming and undressing.
Dilly-dally Dilly
Is always in a huff;
If you hurry her
Or worry her
She says, "There's time enough."
Since she's neither sick nor helpless,
It is quite a serious matter
That she should be so lazy that
We still keep scolding at her.
Dilly-dally Dilly,
It's very wrong you know,
To do no work
That you can shirk,
And dilly-dally so.
Uncle Jim's Yarn.
Old "Uncle Jim," of Stonington, Conn., ought to have a whole drawer to himself, for nothing short of it could express the easy-going enlargement of his mind in narratives. Uncle Jim was a retired sea captain, sealer, and whaler, universally beloved and respected for his lovely disposition and genuine good-heartedness, not less than for the moderation of his statements and the truthful candor of his narrations. It happened that one of the Yale Professors, who devoted himself to ethnological studies, was interested in the Patagonians, and very much desired information as to the alleged gigantic stature of the race. A scientific friend, who knew the Stonington romancer, told the Professor that he could no doubt get valuable information from Uncle Jim, a Captain who was familiar with all the region about Cape Horn. And the Professor, without any hint about Uncle Jim's real ability, eagerly accompanied his friend to make the visit. Uncle Jim was found in one of his usual haunts, and something like the following ethnological conversation ensued:
Professor—They tell me, Capt. Pennington, that you have been a good deal in Patagonia.