have been veritable slates. Resemblance to the
lime-washed houses of home was Robert's fancy; which, in Zack Bunting's
mind, was a perverted taste, as he recommended a brilliant green
groundwork, picked out with yellow, such canary-bird costume being
favourite in Yankee villages.

The few feet of garden railed off in front are filled with bushes
of the fragrant Canadian wild-rose; yellow violets, lobelias, and
tiger-lilies, transplanted thither from the forest glades, appear to
flourish. The brothers had resolved that Linda should not miss her
flower-beds and their gentle care even in bush-life.

For the rest, the clearing looks wild enough, notwithstanding all
civilising endeavours. That mighty wall of trees has not been pushed
back far, and the _debris_ of the human assault, lying on the soil in
vast wooden lengths, seems ponderous even to discouragement. Robert has
been viewing it all through stranger eyes for the last week, since he
heard the joyful news that they for whom he has worked have landed at
Montreal; he has been putting finishing touches wherever he could, yet
how unfinished it is!

To-day Andy alone is in possession; for his young masters have gone to
meet the expected waggon as far as Peter Logan's--nay, to Greenock if
necessary. He has abundance of occupation for the interval; first, to
hill up a patch of Indian corn with the hoe, drawing the earth into
little mounds five or six inches high round each stalk; and after
that, sundry miscellaneous duties, among which milking the cow stands
prominent. She is enjoying herself below in the beaver meadow, while
the superior animal, Andy, toils hard among the stumps, and talks to
himself, as wont.

'Why, thin, I wondher what th' ould masther 'ull say to our clearin',
an' how he'll take to the life, at all, at all; he that niver did a
hand's turn yet in the way of business, only 'musin' himself wid papers
an' books as any gintleman ought; how he'll stand seein' Masther Robert
hoein' and choppin' like a labourin' man? More be token, it's little o'
that thim pair down at Daisy Burn does. I b'lieve they 'spect things to
grow ov thimselves 'athout any cultivatin'. An' to see that poor young
lady hillin' the corn herself--I felt as I'd like to bate both the
captin an' his fine idle son--so I would, while I could stand over 'em.'

He executed an aerial flourish with his hoe, and the minute after, found
practical occupation for it in chasing two or three great s