of the
countryman either his ticket or his fare, and threatened to put him off the
train at the next station if he did not produce either the one or the
other.

"But, ma guid man, I haena a copper aboot me, or it's wullin' enough I'd be
to gie ye a shullin' or so for this fine drive."

"Well, off you get then the next time we stop."

"But shurely ye wadna be pittin' a puir man oot o' yer waggon, or chapel,
or whatever ye ca' it, whan there's sae mony empty pews? I'm no croodin'
onyane, an' I'm wullin' enough to sit onywhere."

"We don't take people on the cars for nothing," said the conductor,
decidedly. "If you can't pay, you can't ride."

"Weel, it's the rich anes that's aye the stingiest, shure enough," replied
the man, more to himself than to the brass-buttoned figure before him. "But
ye widna fin' the like o' yersel' owre in ma kintry, let me tell ye! The
puirest farmer widna refuse to gie a stranger a lift if he was gaun the
same way as himsel', even if it was only a kairt that he had, an' it loaded
to the brim."

"Can't help it," replied he of the buttons, with a grin. "Off you get at
the next station, or we'll put you off without ceremony."

"But I'll no gang aff, if I may be sae bold as to tell ye!" said the now
angry farmer. "Ye took me to Truro against ma wull, for why did I want to
gang to a place that I never heard o' afore; so, then, ye'll tak' me back
to Halifax again, wullin' or no, an' whan I get my money back I'll sen' ye
the price o' the drive. If ye think I'm croodin' the gentlemen, I'll gang
oot an' sit on the steps o' yer backdoor, but, guidness only kens! there
seems room enough in these empty pews for a dizzen o' ma size."

"Here, conductor, I'll pay the man's fare," said Mr. Sherwood, who had
listened to the conversation with ill-concealed amusement.

This being satisfactory to the conductor, the man was allowed to keep his
seat in peace, and, engaging him in conversation, Mr. Sherwood discovered
that he had been the guest of the man's brother during one of his trips to
Prince Edward Island. His home was on the north side of the island, and the
farm of Roderick McDonald was well known as one of the best-paying places
on the "Garden of the St. Lawrence."

On finding that the man beside him was the Yankee horse-buyer, Mr. McDonald
rose and shook his hand with a warmth that showed his pleasure at the
meeting.

This unexpected kindness from one whom he had learned to consider as a man
o