ndiwork of the dear
brothers who had wrought so hard for them. And how were these repaid
for that past toil, by the sweet mother's smile as she entered the neat
little parlour, and was established in the rocking-chair which Arthur
had manufactured and cushioned with exceeding pains! The other furniture
was rather scholastic, it is true, being a series of stools and a table,
set upon rushen matting of Indian make; the beams overhead were unceiled,
and the hearth necessarily devoid of a grate. But the chimney space--huge
in proportion to the room--was filled with fragrant and graceful forest
boughs; and through the open casement window (Arthur had fitted the
single sash on hinges, doorwise) looked in stray sprays of roses,
breathing perfume. Mrs. Wynn was well satisfied with her exile at that
moment, when she saw the loving faces of her sons about her again, in
the home of their own raising.

A most joyful reunion! yet of that gladness which is near akin to tears.
Robert would not give anybody a minute to think, or to grow sad. His
father and George must walk with him all round the clearing and down to
the beaver meadow. His acres of spring-burned fallow, his embryo garden,
his creek and its waterfalls, must be shown off as separate articles of
the exhibition.

'Bob, what are these?' The old gentleman stopped before an expanse of
blackened stumps, among which a multitude of molehills diversified the
soil.

'Potatoes, sir. That's the Canadian way of raising them on new land--in
hills of five thousand to the acre. You see ridges would be out of the
question, or any even system of culture, on account of the stumps and
roots.'

'I suppose so,' said Mr. Wynn drily; 'such ground must certainly require
a peculiar method of working. I daresay you find it incumbent on you to
forget all your Irish agriculture.'

'Well, I had a good deal to unlearn,' answered Robert. 'I hoped to have
had our logging-bee before your arrival, and then the farm would have
looked tidier; but I could not manage it.'

'Do you mean to say the trees stood as thick here as they do there? If
so, you have done wonders already,' said his father. 'My poor boys, it
was killing work.'

'Not at all, sir,' contradicted Robert right cheerily; 'I enjoyed it
after the first few weeks, as soon as I began to see my way. We've been
quite happy this winter in the woods, though bush-life was so new and
strange.'

'It seems to me simply to mean a permanent descent