Homesteading 



over the lake, making a radiant and shining 

 path across a part of the great inland sea, whose 

 waters wash its rocky shore as the Atlantic does 

 the Cornish coast, we got one of those glorious 

 views that live in our memory to our last days. 

 Soon after passing this rugged strip of coast, 

 with its sharp railroad curves, rock cuttings, 

 and trestle bridges, we reached Fort William and 

 Port Arthur, through whose mammoth elevators 

 the bread-stuff for millions finds its way to the 

 world's markets. Suggested by the sight of 

 these, our talk drifts on to the question of out- 

 lets and transportation facilities for the present 

 and probable future production of these immense 

 areas of fertile soil. Our car conductor, who 

 finds time to join in the conversation, is 

 naturally all for improving the railroad facilities 

 to and through the Eastern Provinces, and he 

 points out that on a good track the big modem 

 locomotive could haul a hundred thirty-ton cars, 

 and asks " is not that nearly or quite as 

 cheap as water transport." He is reminded, 

 however, that the railroads are in the habit 

 of working for their shareholders. A citizen 

 from Dakota is all for J. J. Hill's railroads across 

 the border, saying "that way you get ice-free 

 ports all the year round," but some one remarks 

 that while much doubtless goes that way in 



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