plunge into without due
deliberation.

So the sun was high in the heavens when at last he saw ahead of him the
golden light that betokened a clearing, and heard the sound of farm
life echoing down the forest avenues.

Kirsty John's farm was a small, rough clearing near the Scotch line.
There were two or three fields, and in the centre of them a log shanty
and a small stable. Everything about the place was very neat; for
Kirsty's mother was a Lowlander and one of the most particular of that
great race of housekeepers. The little barnyard, ingeniously fenced
off with rough poles, the small patch of grass around the doorway, the
neat little flower garden, all showed signs of a woman's tasteful hand.
But Kirsty could do the man's part as well. Black John MacDonald had
died some years before, leaving his invalid wife to the care of their
only child. And Kirsty's care had been of the tenderest; and if in the
rough battle of life she became a little rough and masculine, the poor
crippled mother felt none of it. Kirsty managed everything with a
strong, capable hand, from felling trees to spinning yarn and making
butter. She received plenty of help, of course; Big Malcolm and Long
Lauchie were her nearest neighbours, and their families vied with each
other in seeing who could do the most for her. Weaver Jimmie, too,
would have been willing to let the weaving industry go to ruin if
Kirsty would but let him so much as carry in a stick of firewood on a
winter evening; but Kirsty kept her despised suitor so busy saving
himself from violent bodily injury, when in her presence, that his
assistance was not material.

Scotty could see her now as he came down the forest path. She was
working in the little rough hayfield, pitching up the forkfuls of hay
on to a little oxcart with masculine energy. Her skirt was turned up,
showing a striped, homespun petticoat, and beneath it her strong bare
ankles. Her pink calico sunbonnet made a dash of colour against the
cool green of the woods.

Scotty took a leap at the low brush fence that surrounded the clearing
and went over it in one bound. Then he stood stock still with sudden
surprise; for there, right in front of him, seated on a low stump with
an air of patient expectancy, was a small figure almost enveloped in a
big, blue sunbonnet.

"Oh!" cried Scotty in amazement.

"Oh!" echoed the Blue Sunbonnet. It came suddenly to life, leaped from
the stump and pitched itself upon h