each, for he
prided himself on being able to fill all orders that reached him. Yet
the load he took to the city was much larger than usual. As he drove
down the hill and passed the cabin he studied the location.

"The drainage is perfect," he said to Belshazzar beside him on the seat.
"So is the situation. We get the cool breezes from the lake in summer
and the hillside warmth in winter. View down the valley can't be
surpassed. We will grub out that thicket in front, move over the
driveway, and build a couple of two-story rooms, with basement for
cellar and furnace, and a bathroom in front of the cabin and use it with
some fixing over for a dining-room and kitchen. Then we will deepen and
widen Singing Water, stick a bushel of bulbs and roots and sow a peck of
flower seeds in the marsh, plant a hedge along the drive, and straighten
the lake shore a little. I can make a beautiful wild-flower garden and
arrange so that with one season's work this will appear very well. We
will express this stuff and then select and fell some trees to-night.
Soon as the frost is out of the ground we will dig our basement and lay
the foundations. The neighbours will help me raise the logs; after that
I can finish the inside work. I've got some dried maple, cherry,
and walnut logs that would work into beautiful furniture. I haven't
forgotten the prices McLean offered me. I can use it as well as he.
Plain way the best things are built now, I believe I could make tables
and couches myself. I can see plans in the magazines at the library.
I'll take a look when I get this off. I feel strong enough to do all of
it in a few days and I am crazy to commence. But I scarcely know where
to begin. There are about fifty things I'd like to do. But to fell and
dry the trees and get the walls up come first, I believe. What do you
think, old unreliable?"

Belshazzar thought the world was a place of beauty that morning. He
sniffed the icy, odorous air and with tilted head watched the birds.
A wearied band of ducks had settled on Loon Lake to feed and rest,
for there was nothing to disturb them. Signs were numerous everywhere
prohibiting hunters from firing over the Harvester's land. Beside
the lake, down the valley, crossing the railroad, and in the farther
lowlands, the dog was a nervous quiver, as he constantly scented game
or saw birds he wanted to point. But when they neared the city, he sat
silently watching everything with alert eyes. As they reached t