greatest width. The opposite shore is the western boundary of the town of Woolwich, which has always remained under the quiet rule of agriculture, and made no attempts to enter the field of commerce. Capital has been sparingly invested in manufactures; and although her people have the prestige of wealth and brains, Bath will undoubtedly continue for years to come as she is to-day. She is the natural head of the lower Kennebec, which embraces so many charming nooks and corners in its winding way to the sea. The remaining beauties and spots of interest of the river will be treated in a future article, on "The Upper Kennebec."

From the western extremity of Fiddler's Reach the city of Bath stretches northward for several miles, fringing the waterfront with its scores of docks and ship-yards. Years ago nearly the entire city was hidden from view by the lofty frames and hulls of vessels upon the stocks. The air was freighted with the merry music of countless hammers, and

Not a port or sea is there in any clime but the tall and stately ships of Bath have entered. Her name and reputation are worldwide. The onward march of steam has, however, supplanted the slower power of sails, and this, together with the growing industry of iron ship-building, has prostrated the life of the city. The representatives of Maine in the halls of Congress have striven vigorously and persistently in the endeavor to evoke national aid in securing such legislation as will enable these idle yards to compete with other more favored places.

MAPLE-SUGAR MAKING IN VERMONT.

BY J. M. FRENCH, M.D.

The poet Saxe has written of his native State, that Vermont is noted for four staple products; oxen, maple-sugar, girls, and horses:—

Whatever changes may have taken place in other respects, in maple-sugar, at least, Vermont retains her preëminence, producing each year from eight to ten million pounds, or more than any other single State, and nearly one-third of the entire amount manufactured in the United States.

CATCHING SAP.

To the farmer's boy among the Green Mountains the springtime is the sweetest and most welcome of all the seasons. And however far he may wander in later years from the scenes of his boyhood, yet often, in quiet hours or when busied with the cares of life, his thoughts return to the old homestead; and, as he walks again in the old paths, recalls the old memories, and watches the old-time pictures come and go before his mental vision, he enjoys again, and with a freshness ever new, the pleasures of the maple-sugar season.

Midwinter is past. The "January thaw" has come and gone, leaving a smooth, hard crust, just right for coasting. The heavy storms of February have piled the drifts mountain high over road and fence and wall; and the roaring winds of early March have driven the snow in blinding clouds along the hill-sides, through the forests, and down into the valleys. But now the coldest days are over, and the sun, in his returning course, begins to send down-rays of pleasant warmth. The nights are still sharp, and the March winds have not yet ceased to blow; but for a week, the snow has been melting at noon-day on the southern slope of the hills.

THE YOKE.

One afternoon, when the sun seems a little warmer than usual, the farmer comes in to the house, on his return from a trip to the wood-lot, saying, "Boys, this is good weather for sap. We must get the buckets out, and be ready to tap the trees to-morrow."

The buckets are stored in the loft over the shed, or at the barn or in the sugar-house, where they were carefully laid away after last year's season was over. Now they must be washed and scalded, repaired if necessary, and carried around to the trees.

Twenty-five years ago nearly all the buckets were made of pine or cedar, had wooden hoops, and were without covers. At present many of them are made of tin, and are provided with covers.

By night, with all hands at work, the buckets are washed and distributed. They are left in sets of half-a-dozen at convenient distances through the orchard, or else are turned bottom-upwards on the snow, one at the foot of each tree.

Sometimes it happens at this stage of the proceedings that a storm comes up unexpectedly, a cold spell follows, and operations are delayed accordingly. But, if the weather continues fine, the next day the trees are tapped.

GATHERING THE SAP.

Armed each with a bit-stock and one-half or three-quarter-inch bit, the farmer and his older boys go from tree to tree, and, selecting a favorable spot a few feet from the ground, break off any rough pieces of outer bark, and bore a hole into the tree to the depth of one or two inches. Formerly a larger bit was used, and the bore was rarely more than an inch in depth; but experience has shown that the smaller and deeper bore injures the tree less and secures a larger quantity of sap.

Next the younger boys, acting as assistants, come forward with spouts and nails and buckets. The old style of spout consists of a wooden tube some five or six inches in length, tapered slightly at one end to fit the auger-hole, and with the upper half of the cylinder cut away down to an Inch from the point where it enters the tree. The new style, now largely used, is made of galvanized iron, is of smaller size, and has attached to it a hook on which to hang the bucket. Sometimes, also, spouts of tin are used, being driven into the bark just beneath the auger-hole.

After the spouts have been driven in, the buckets must be put in place and fastened there. If iron spouts are used they are already provided with hooks. If wooden or tin ones are used, instead, the common practice is to drive into the tree, a few inches below the spout, a nail made of wrought-iron, with a tapering point and thin head, and upon this to hang the bucket by means of its upper hoop; or, if the ground is level and the snow nearly gone, it is sometimes set upon the ground.

BOILING SAP—THE OLD WAY.

At