d. The young generation
had almost no Irish accent, but all had sifted down to the peculiar
burring nasal whine of the backwoods Canadian.

Mr. and Mrs. Raften met Yan at the station. They had supper together
at the tavern and drove him to their home, where they showed him into
the big dining-room--living-room--kitchen. Over behind the stove was
a tall, awkward boy with carroty hair and small, dark eyes set much
aslant in the saddest of faces. Mrs. Raften said, "Come, Sam, and
shake hands with Yan." Sam came sheepishly forward, shook hands in a
flabby way, and said, in drawling tones, "How-do," then retired behind
the stove to gaze with melancholy soberness at Yan, whenever he could
do so without being caught at it. Mr. and Mrs. Raften were attending
to various matters elsewhere, and Yan was left alone and miserable.
The idea of giving up college to go on a farm had been a hard one for
him to accept, but he had sullenly bowed to his father's command and
then at length learned to like the prospect of getting away from
Bonnerton into the country. After all, it was but for a year, and it
promised so much of joy. Sunday-school left behind. Church reduced to
a minimum. All his life outdoors, among fields and woods--surely this
spelled happiness; but now that he was really there, the abomination
of desolation seemed sitting on all things and the evening was one
of unalloyed misery. He had nothing to tell of, but a cloud of black
despair seemed to have settled for good on the world. His mouth was
pinching very hard and his eyes blinking to keep back the tears when
Mrs. Raften came into the room. She saw at a glance what was wrong.
"He's homesick," she said to her husband. "He'll be all right
to-morrow," and she took Yan by the hand and led him upstairs to bed.

Twenty minutes later she came to see if he was comfortable. She tucked
the clothes in around him, then, stooping down for a good-night kiss,
she found his face wet with tears. She put her arms about him for a
moment, kissed him several times, and said, "Never mind, you will feel
all right to-morrow," then wisely left him alone.

Whence came that load of misery and horror, or whither it went, Yan
never knew. He saw it no more, and the next morning he began to
interest himself in his new world.

William Raften had a number of farms all in fine order and clear
of mortgages; and each year he added to his estates. He was sober,
shrewd, even cunning, hated by most of his