In a little time, then, a Nile farm becomes a rare beauty-spot, instead of a waste of mud; tor now the crops are grown. The lentils bend with their heavy load, and the fields of grain turn their well-filled heads from side to side that the ripening sun may change their green freshness into gold. What landscape, unadorned by art, can be more lovely than such a farm, narrow though its limits may be, with its grove of palms to fan the breeze and scatter their sweet fruitage into the lap of the happy fellahin? Here no weeds grow to annoy him. No stone-crops are belched to the surface each year to stop the plough. And this is good, for the Egyptian plough has no scientifically curved coulter or subsoil attachment. When the crops are ripened the irrigation must rest awhile, for all hands are pressed to help with the ingathering. - From " The Modern Nile," by Edward L. Wilson, in Scribner's Magazine for September.