o be hauled through the bush to floor the shanties.
They now had to decide what kind of shanty they wanted. The cheapest, he
told us, for all, men, women, and children, had gathered to hear about
the building,--was a house twelve feet by twelve, with basswood staves
for flooring or the bare soil, an opening that served both as door and
window, with a blanket to keep out the cold, basswood scoops or elm bark
for the roof, in which a hole was left to let out the smoke. There were
many such shanties, but living in them was misery. From that sort they
varied in size and finish, all depending on the settler's means. With
$25 a good deal could be done. Size and finish were agreed on, it being
understood the master, who had most money, would have a larger house.
This being decided, Mr Brodie set to work to dig his cellar and I was
sent to Simmins to see if he could supply shingles for the three
shanties and to ask Sal if he would hire until they were finished. I
took the compass and found their clearance without trouble. In returning
Sal, who carried his axe, blazed the trees, so that it would be easy to
know the way. The following morning his mother accompanied Sal. She came
to show how they made bread in the bush, and had brought a dishful of
bran-risings. Explaining what yeast was and how to treat it, she set a
panful of dough. When the mass had risen, she kneaded it, and moulded it
into loaves. The bake kettle having been warmed, the loaves were placed
in it, and when they had risen enough, she put the cover on, and planted
the kettle in a bed of glowing embers. The bread was sweet and a welcome
change to the cakes made on the griddle or frying-pan. We had more than
bread that day. Mrs Simmins pointed out plants, like lambs quarter and
dandelion, whose leaves made greens that added relish to our unvarying
diet of pork. How much more she taught I do not know, but her visit was
a revelation to our women-folk. Grannie was delighted with her singing
because she could hear it.

CHAPTER VII.

ANDREW ANDERSON'S DIARY

In Scotland it had been the master's custom to keep a record of work
done, and of money paid or received. On parting with a neighbor, a
farmer who had a notion of emigrating, he was asked, as a favor, to keep
notes of his own daily experience. He had his doubts as to accounts of
Canada he had read being correct, and knew whatever the master set down
as to climate and other conditions he could depend upon.