A greater contrast between the last two seasons—those of 1899 and 1900—could hardly have obtained. The spring of 1899 was unusually wet, and the consequence was that the Manitoban prairie flea took refuge in our houses out of the rain, and life became almost unendurable between the armies of fleas inside and the clouds of mosquitoes without. So bad were the latter that, seasoned as I am to their attacks, all my night collecting was done under difficulties, for after covering myself as far as possible (rather a nuisance on a hot, close night), I had to bathe every square inch of skin that had of necessity to be exposed, with a strong solution of alum. This last year, through the unusually dry spring and early summer, to be bitten by a mosquito was quite an event. The fleas too took advantage of the fine, dry weather, and resumed their usual prairie life, and left us in our houses in peace. It may not be generally known, but some parts of the country swarm with fleas, while in others they are hardly to be found. In the olden days, before the railways, when we had to fetch our supplies from the nearest towns—Emerson, in my case—by waggon, camping on the prairie as we went along, I was several times cautioned by old settlers on no account to camp on certain spots, or in certain localities, if it could be avoided, by reason of the swarms of fleas that had taken up their habitation there. These places were invariably those that would be selected as resting places, being dry, sandy or gravelly spots. Still, Manitoba cannot by a long way equal Southern Europe for fleas.