1690 another expedition was made ready at Boston to attack the Acadian forts. Eight small vessels, and seven or eight hundred men, were put under the command of Sir William Phipps, who had been in succession, shepherd-boy, ship-wright, and sea-rover. His title had been won by his clever recovery of a treasure of £300,000 from an old Spanish wreck, and though his “education was low," and his temper hasty, he afterwards attained the dignity of governor of Massachu

setts.

After a month's absence, Phipps and his fleet returned to Boston, with a number of prisoners and a quantity of plunder, which "was thought equal to the whole expense." After the feeblest resistance, Port Royal had fallen, and Massachusetts henceforth considered Acadia her special property, a claim duly recognized in her second charter. The colonial authorities appointed Tyng, a colonel of Maine, governor of the new territory, sending with him "to settle and establish him .... in the command of Port Royal," a Boston merchant named Nelson, who had "been continually conversant with the French" for over twenty years. On the way to Nova Scotia they were captured by the French. Tyng died in prison, but Nelson, during his confinement of four and a half years in Canada and France, contrived occasionally to send valuable intelligence concerning the projects of the French.

Meanwhile the New Englanders had left their conquest quite unguarded, but though the English flag was speedily hauled down, Villebon, the French commandant of Acadia, preferred to make his headquarters a little more out of the ene

my's reach. Accordingly he established himself some distance up the St. John. He exerted himself successfully to stir up the Indians and "pirates" against the New Englanders. From time to time they sent out marauding expeditions in return. to ravage the country which they claimed as their own. At last, realizing the futility of such ownership, they petitioned the crown to take their troublesome charge off their hands. Two years later, in 1697, this was done in a fashion little to their taste, for by the Treaty of Ryswick, Acadia was allowed to revert to the French-a proceeding afterwards characterized by a royal governor of Massachusetts as an execrable treachery to England, "intended without doubt to serve the ends of popery."

The outbreak of the War of the Spanish Succession however soon offered an opportunity to regain by force what had been resigned by treaty, and in the spring of 1704 a force was sent from Boston to ravage the Acadian coasts and lay waste the dyke-lands. Colonel Church, a noted Indian fighter, was in command, and great things were expected, but when the fleet met at the entrance of Port Royal harbor a council of war decided that it would be imprudent to attack the fort. The Bostonians were much enraged at this over-cautious behavior, and were by no means mollified when it appeared that Church had had orders not to attack. Indeed some people accused the governor, Dudley, of preserving the place for the sake of unlawful trade, in which he was to be a sharer. Cotton Mather wrote an indignant letter to the governor, declaring the case too black for him to meddle with. "The expedition baffled—

The fort never so much as demanded-An eternal grave stone laid on our buried captives-A nest of hornets provoked to fly out upon us-A shame cast on us that will never be forgotten-I dare not, I cannot meddle with these mysteries."

There is no doubt that during these years of warfare much illegal trade was carried on between the Acadians and the Boston merchants. Under pretext of redeeming captives, it was said that Samuel Vetch, and other well-known men had supplied the Queen's enemies with arms and ammunition. The charge was investigated and the accused were condemned by the General Court to fines and imprisonment, but the acts for their punishment were disallowed by the Queen as ultra vires.

This year, 1706, was remarkable for its Indian horrors, and once again Massachusetts, undeterred by former misadventures, resolved to raise a force to ravage Nova Scotia and "insult" Port Royal. A thousand men from three New England provinces were accordingly gathered at Boston, but unhappily a commander was chosen whose only known qualification for the position was "mere natural bravery," and when he found himself with "a raw undisciplined army" before Port Royal even this seems to have failed him. The fort, though in bad repair, was defended with spirit, and March, after spending ten days in desultory operations, retreated to Casco. This lame and impotent conclusion caused "a great clamor" in Boston, where preparations were already on foot, it is said, for celebrating the capture of Port Royal. The New Englanders would not yet give up hope of this result however, and March, with three gentlemen of

the council to aid in lifting the load of responsibility from his unwilling shoulders, was ordered to try his luck again. The rank and file, lacking confidence in their officers, signed a "Round robin" refusing to return to the attack, but back they had to go. Their unlooked-for re

turn caused consternation at Port Royal, but sick and dispirited, the New Englanders were not then to be feared, and Subercase again held his own.

Yet the days of Port Royal, as a French fortress, were numbered, and Subercase himself was to surrender to a New England general. In 1708, Vetch, lately convicted for "traitorously supplying the Queen's enemies," was sent by the colonies to England to urge an attack on Canada. He returned in the spring, with promises of aid, and the New Englanders flung themselves with ardor into warlike preparations, but the usual delays followed, and it was not till late in 1710 that the combined forces appeared before Port Royal. Hopelessly outnumbered, the French were soon obliged to surrender. On this occasion, the fortress was not given back to France, and though several times threatened or attacked, it was never re-taken, during the fifty years' conflict between France and England which had yet to pass.

Nova Scotia was not again annexed to Massachusetts, but, for good and evil, the close intercourse of the two provinces still continued. On the one hand, the French rulers of Canada still used the Acadians and Micmacs as a deadly weapon against the New Englanders. On the other, it was mainly owing to the courage and resourcefulness of New Englanders (though a British fleet co-operated with them nobly)

that the proud fortress of Louisbourg was humbled, and French. influence with the Acadians received its first staggering blow. The expedition was planned in Massachusetts, was carried out by a New England army, and was led by a popular citizen-soldier of Maine, the immortal Pepperell.

Again, one of the chief movers in the terrible retribution that fell on the ignorant and misguided Acadians, was the Massachusetts governor, Shirley. A force, composed mainly of New Englanders, put into execution the rigorous sentence of banishment, upon whole people, whose mournful story has been so sweetly sung by a New England poet. In later years, New Englanders occupied the deserted farms of the simple exiles, and for a time made it doubtful whether Nova Scotia might not add a fourteenth

a

star to the new American flag. At the close of the Revolutionary war there was another notable immigration, largely from New England. Many of these United Empire Loyalists afterwards settled in Upper Canada, but several thousands remained in the Maritime Provinces, and altogether a large proportion of the inhabitants of the eastern part of the Dominion trace their descent from New England families.

Since the invention of railways and telegraphs, and the introduction of commercial and political union, there is no longer a separation between the seaboard and inland provinces of the Dominion, but, on the other hand, intercourse with New England is far easier and more friendly than of old, and Boston still has its influence on the British people inhabiting old Acadia.

MRS

RS. CARTWRIGHT removed the wax fruit piece from an inlaid card table, and dropped the damask covering in a careless heap upon the sofa.

"I believe I'll take this table home with me," she said musingly. "They are all the rage just now, and this will exactly fill that vacant space by the music room door. Ancient possessions give one a legitimate excuse for introducing one's family history, where it would be the extreme of bad taste to sit down in a room full of modern furniture and apropos of nothing whatever, announce that our direct line of ancestry runs back to William the Conqueror or that the blood of royalty trickles down to us through the most exclusive colonial channels. I wonder if there's an upholsterer at the village who could be trusted to pack it. I wouldn't have it scarred for the world."

Her sister laughed as she ran a jewelled finger admiringly along the polished edge.

"You spoke just in time, Julia," she declared. "I was about to 'choose' that table for myself, as the children say. Let me remind you, my dear, that the village upholsterer is the blacksmith as well and would not hesitate to drive nails into that table top in his conscientious efforts. to pack it securely. Be warned by my experience with Grandmother Webster's mulberry platter which reached my china closet in four pieces. It was such a disappoint

ment! I wept until Henry in despair bought me a Royal Worcester dinner service in the hope of consoling me."

"If you have decided to take the table, Julia," said a quiet voice from the bay window, "I have no doubt Jason can pack it for you so that it will go unharmed."

The second sister looked inquiringly about the room.

"I ought to have something to offset," she said half complainingly. "I don't know why I haven't thought of that table before. I believe I will take the coffee urn which was mother's wedding gift from the vice-president. It will make a fine. display among our anniversary presents next month and give an excuse for expressing my preference for the colonial pattern in silver. I do so hope someone will give us that candelabra at Waring's. Dear me, how I wish the fuss and bother was over. Is the urn in the silver closet, Margeret? I believe I'll ask Sarah to rub it up a little; silver tarnishes so quickly in the country."

Miss Margeret, youngest of the three sisters, arose from her seat. "I will polish the polish the urn for you, Annette," she said. "Sarah is cooking this morning."

She carefully folded the damask cloth as her sisters left the room and crowded the books nearer together upon the centre table to make room for the deposed wax fruit piece. Then she moved the card table from the corner where it had stood since 435

her earliest remembrance, and drew chair and sofa nearer together in an attempt to fill the vacant space. It would not do; for the sofa's position had been carefully arranged to conceal a darn in the carpet. Margeret considered with a troubled face. "I don't believe there's a thing left in the house, that can be put in that corner," she decided. She was very thoughtful, as, sitting alone in a corner of the large dining room, she polished the coffee urn with loving fingers. It was exactly twenty years since Margeret Richards had come home from boarding school, to assist in the elaborate wedding preparations of her sister Julia, and to patiently take up the triple burden which awaited her in the care of an invalid mother, the direction of household affairs, and the management of an estate sadly impoverished by the starting in life. of three sons and the substantial marriage portions of two daughters. To Margeret had fallen the remnant of property as a compensation for "carrying the old folks through life." Not that the family regarded it in the light of compensation. To them the youngest sister was still a child dependent upon her parents and rather to be envied in her comfortable possession of the "home place." The constant strain of economy necessary to purchase household supplies and pay the interest on a large mortgage was laughingly stigmatized "Margeret's prudence." The brothers on rare and hurried visits strolled fondly about the farm, revisiting favorite haunts of their boyhood, but quite forgetting to notice that the woodland was diminished and the fields becoming barren. The sisters, on long summer visits, sat about under the fine old trees,

remarking upon the beauties of the place and regretting that Margeret could not be content to enjoy life quietly, instead of disturbing her own peace by constant anxiety for the corn-field or potato crop. The children, to whom Hillside farm was a refuge whenever it was not convenient to have them elsewhere, learned to look upon the farm and Aunt Margeret as their own particular property, and still talked of "grandpa's farm," although both grandparents were long since gone from earth.

"Margeret," called Mrs. Wilcox from the wide stairway, "where's Grandmother Richards' sampler? Frances told me to bring it for her den."

"In my room," Margeret replied briefly. It was some minutes later that the twelve year old daughter of her youngest brother, entered the room impetuously.

"Are you going to let Aunt Annette have everything in the house?" she demanded.

"Louise!" said Miss Margeret in a tone that would have silenced a child of her own generation. Louise, not having finished her remarks continued.

"I should think you'd like to have a few things left for yourself," she declared. "It is really too bad, for you never seem to have new things given you like the rest of the people I know. Mama has hosts of pretty silver and china things."

"They were wedding or anniversary presents," explained the aunt absently.

Louise considered. "I suppose they were," she said reflectively, "I never thought of that. And you can't have a wedding because nobody wants to marry you. But you