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"Oh! I can beat that one," cried Jess. "Let's hear you," responded the black-eyed miss. "Listen, then," returned her schoolmate: "'A canny young canner of Cannee, One morning observed to his Granny, "A canner can can A lot of things, Gran, But a canner can't can a can, can 'e?"" Now, how is that for a match for your limerick?" This started the ball a-rolling.

There is, for one, that fine, old, standard publication, Barrel and Box, devoted to the subjects and the interests of the coopering industry; there is, too, The Dried Fruit Packer and Western Canner, as alert a magazine as one could wish in its kind; and from the home of classic American literature comes The New England Tradesman and Grocer. And so on.

A large proportion of the tomatoes grown for canning are planted under contract, by which the farmer agrees to deliver the entire yield of fruit fit for canning, which may be produced on a given area, at the contract price per bushel or ton. The canner is to judge what fruit is fit for canning and this often results in great dissatisfaction.

Because the American buyer and canner alike would spend a dollar to make a dollar. And the British Columbia packers wanted a cinch, a monopoly, which in a measure they had. They were an anachronism, MacRae felt. They regarded the salmon and the salmon waters of the British Columbia coast as the feudal barons of old jealously regarded their special prerogatives.

Whether this visitor be hairy or smooth-skinned, a manufacturer of honey, a canner of animal flesh or without any determined calling, whether she be Spider, Butterfly, Fly or Beetle makes no difference: the instant the little yellow louse espies the new arrival, it perches on her back and leaves with her. And now it all depends on luck!

To-day the processes of cloth making are practically unknown outside the factory. Knitting has become largely a machine industry. Ready-made clothing has largely reduced the sewing done in the home. In the matter of food, the housekeeper may, if she chooses, have a large part of her work performed by the baker, the canner, and the delicatessen shopkeeper.

Nestling among a group of giant yellow pines on a ridge well up from the beach, two white tents gleamed. This was the camp of Marian and Lucile. The rock-ribbed and heavily wooded island belonged to Lucile's father, a fish canner of Anacortes, Washington. There was, so far as they knew, not another person on the island. They had expected a maiden aunt to join them in their outing.