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safe side is to act just the same as if the house were reeking with the germs of consumption. What is one to do as a safe-guard? Simply this: Fumigate every room in the house with the vapor given off by heating formaldehyde; wash all floors, windows and wood-work with mild solutions of corrosive sublimate and water. Only after such a chemical cleansing, can the new quarters be considered safe for human habitation.

Is there anything new that can be done for those already afflicted with the disease? By all means. Let these poor sufferers ask themselves, What are the real benefits of "fresh air"? Ideal "fresh air" is that which has its proper proportion of oxygen, and is germ-free. If one afflicted with consumption can possibly have air of this kind in his own home, there is not the shadow of an excuse for leaving it in search of "climate." Let us illustrate. Suppose a man is overcome by illuminating gas, while in his room. The very first thing for his rescuers to do, is to take him out of the room, or let out all the gas. Bearing in mind this comparison and applying it to the consumptive in his own home, there are just two things to do: Either take the consumptive away from the germ-ridden air of his room, or let out the germs. Unfortunately, the latter refuse to go. Sleeping with open windows will not suffice; the air which comes in is not sufficient to drive them from their lodgings on the floors, walls and carpets, not to mention the bed-coverings; nor are the germs kind enough to take


A Portable Tent Of This Sort Makes A New Daily Camping Ground Exceedingly Practicable.

a hint and leave by the open window. In order to make the air of such a room germ-free, there remains just one thing to do: kill the germs by frequent fumigation. How often should this fumigation be done? Daily, if possible, but at least once or twice a week. A very good plan for a consumptive to follow is that of living in alternate rooms on alternate days. By so doing, each room can be fumigated and rendered germ-free on alternate days, as a result of which the consumptive will have the benefits of an absolutely pure air both day and night. Such a course, followed in conjunction with what is already known in the way of good nutrition and hygiene, should afford a home cure for every case of consumption that can be so treated from its earliest discovery. There is no individual who cannot act on the two suggestions here given,—first for prevention, and second for cure.

GREAT attention is being paid at the present time to the erection of thoroughly sanitary and fire-proof residences, railway stations and other buildings and it is maintained that such buildings may be constructed at less cost than with wood; concrete is used as the material and a number of

houses are cast from one set of molds.

An accompanying illustration shows the design and construction of a small concrete house built along the lines of the model home, which received the first gold medal at the International Congress on Tuberculosis held in Wash

ington, D. C. A remarkable feature of this house is that a hose may be used for cleaning, after the furniture, pictures and rugs have been removed, a stream of water being applied to the walls, ceilings and composition floors, which are drained to tile spouts discharging on the lawn. All fixtures are of concrete material, bracketed from the wall, for convenience in sweeping the floors.


A House That Received A Gold Medal. An admirable style of concrete dwelling.

There is no wood to shrink or rot, no shelter for vermin or insects, no corners for dirt, all corners being rounded. There is no insurance to pay, no painting required and little or no expense for repairs.

The building is so constructed that the waste heat from the cooking-range is utilized in winter for warming the house. There is no handling of coal or ashes. The coal is hoisted by a simple chain block and dumped through a coal hole on the roof into a large pocket. It is then fed automatically by gravity to the stove which combines, in one concrete fixture, the range, house heater, gas stove and hot water heater. The ashes drop from the fire box into cans which are removed from the outside.

The ice box is arranged for use as a fresh air closet, using no ice in cold weather and designed also to flush out with hose. The garbage system, too, is unique, a cast iron chamber being provided in the

smoke flue, where the waste is dried, then dumped by the use of a damper into the fire box, its fuel value being saved.

The windows are unit size cast iron, of casement type, with transoms over them to regulate ventilation easily. The walls are hollow to prevent dampness, and there are air circulation openings under the roof slab. Fire places are provided in all the rooms and the flues connect around the smoke pipe for natural ventilation.

In this concrete building, construction standard unit collapsible steel forms are used, which are designed to allow change of arrangement and variety in plants, and the "entire house is cast, with walls, floor and partitions, of reinforced concrete. The molds may also be used for any number of duplications of the original building that may be desired.

In the Rosemont railway station, shown at the head of the article, an interesting treatment has been made by the inlay of small marble blocks.

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REMEMBER it was not the hunter who exterminated the buffalo and the beaver and the seal and the otter. The poacher destroyed one group of sea furs, the railway and the farm supplanted the other. West of Mackenzie River north of British Co- • lumbia is a game region almost similar to Labrador in its furred habitat, with the exception that the Western preserve is warmer and more wooded. Northward from Ontario is another hinterland which from its very nature must always

be a great hunting ground. Minerals exist—as the old French traders well knew and the latter day discoveries of Cobalt prove—and there is also heavy timber; but north of the Great Clay Belt, between the Clay Belt and the Bay lies the impenetrable and—I think—indestructible game ground. Swamp and rock will prevent agricultural settlement, but will provide an ideal - fur preserve similar in climate to Labrador.

Traveling with Indian guides, it is always a matter of marvel and admiration to me how the Company have bred into the very blood for generations the careful nurture of all game. At one place we heard of a huge black bear that had been molesting some new ranches. "No take now," said the Indian. "Him fur no good now." Though we might camp on bare rocks and the fire lay dead ash, it was the extra Indian paddler who invariably went back to spatter it out. You know the white's innate love for a roaring log fire in front of the camp at night? The Indian calls that "a - no - good- whiteman - fire - scareaway-game."

Now take another look at the map. Where the Saskatchewan takes a great bend 300 miles northeast of Prince Albert, it is no longer a river—it is a vast muskeg of countless still amber water channels not twice the width of your canoe and quaking silt islands of sand and goose grass—ideal hidden and almost impenetrable for small game. Always muskeg marks the limit of big game and the beginning of the ground of the little fellows—waupoos the rabbit and musquash the muskrat and sakwasew the mink and nukik the otter and wuchak or pekan the fisher. It is a safe wager that the profits on the millions upon millions of little pelts—hundreds of thousands of muskrat are taken out of this muskeg alone—exceed by a hundred fold the profits on the larger furs of beaver and silver fox and bear and wolf and cross fox and marten.

Look at the map again. North of Cumberland lake to the next fur post is

a trifling run of 250 to 300 miles by dog train to Lac du Brochet or Reindeer Lake—more muskeg cut by limestone and granite ridges. Here you can measure 400 miles east or west and not get out of the muskeg till you reach Athabasca on the West and Hudson's Bay on the East. North of Lac du Brochet is a straight stretch of 1,000 miles— nothing but rocks and cataracts and stunted woods, "little sticks" the Indians call them—and sky colored waters in links and chains and lakes with the quaking muskeg goose grass and muskrat reed, cut and chiselled and trenched by the amber water ways.

If you think there is any danger of settlement ever encroaching on the muskegs and barrens, come with me on a trip of some weeks to the south end of this field.

We had been pulling against slack water all day, water so slack you could dip your hand down and fail to tell which way the current ran. Where the high banks dropped suddenly to such a dank tangle of reeds, brush wood, windfall and timbers drifted 1,500 miles down from the forests of the Rocky Mountains —such a tangle as I have never seen in any swamp of the South—the skeleton of a moose, come to its death by a jump among the wind fall, marked the eastern limit of big game; and presently the river was lost—not in a lake—but in a swamp. A red fox came Scurrying through the goose grass, sniffed the air, looked at us and ran along abreast of our canoe for about a mile, evidently scent

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