reigns in Florida during the winter time he had said, "show me," and started for the peninsular State with his big overcoat under his arm. Wrapped to the eyes in his big coat he sat, this morning that the thermometer registered at only seventeen above in St. Augustine, on a bench that faced the morning sun. I thought he must be warm, for his face was flushed, but it was only the warmth of his indignation.
"They told me to leave my overcoat at home," he said, "but I wouldn't do that. But I did leave my sweater, and now look at me! Had to go out this morning and buy a new one. There's no heat in the house I'm living in and I had to come out here and sit in the sun like a sage hen, and durn me if I'm warm now. Next time I take an excursion in winter, young man, I'll go North. I know a stove up in Chicago that I'll bet you is red-hot this minute, and I wish I was sitting side of it, durned if I don't."
The plaint of this man from Missouri is a song of different words, perhaps, but it is the same tune which all Northern people sing who happen to hit a Southern winter during one of the freezing spells which are so likely to reach the northern third of Florida. The most severe of these kill the orange trees and are felt to the very southern limits of the peninsula. Fortunately, there are periods of several years' duration in which
