CRAP TER -\T. 
OUR DUCKS. 
There is only one United States. With it no coun- 
try can compare. A land of enlightenment, energy and 
industry whose wealth, profusely scattered through 
its length, breadth and depth, affords investment and 
employment to the world at large. Peculiarly adapted 
is its wide range and diversity of climate, an attribute 
endowed by nature. Visit the “Sunny South,” home 
ot the orange and magnolia, a land of birds and flow- 
ers, an ideal resting place for our migratory birds. 
Travel north and we pass an imaginary frost line, be- 
tween 30° and 35°, parallel, the line of demarcation 
during the winter solstice of our various migratory 
birds; thus northward, over the lake regions, until we 
arrive at the Canadian border, where, situated on the 
confines of North Dakota, stands Fort Pembina, op- 
posite to St. Vincent, the coldest signal service station 
in the United States. During the year of 1860, the 
thermometer dropped to 60° below zero, and in the 
winter of 1892 the writer saw it 54° below at Hallock, 
a town upon the Great Northern Railway, eighteen 
miles south of the line, ten miles distant from the 
Great Red River of the North (which divides Minne- 
sota from North Dakota), exposed to “‘all the airts that 
blow,” whereas St. Vincent is to some extent pro- 
tected by the river bluffs which fringe it on the Min- 
nesota side. 
