icture."

"She is--no mistake!" Samson declared. "She's a good-hearted girl, too.
You can tell that by her face and her voice. She's as gentle as a kitten,
and about as wide awake as a weasel."

"I don't care much for girls these days," Harry answered. "I guess I'll
never get married."

"Nonsense! A big, strapping, handsome young feller like you, only twenty
years old! Of course you'll get married."

"I don't see how I'm ever going to care much for another girl," the boy
answered.

"There are a lot o' things in the world that you don't see, boy. It's a
big world and things shift around a good deal and some of our opinions
are apt to move with the wind like thistledown."

It was a long, wearisome ride back to the land of plenty, over frozen
ground, with barely an inch of snow upon it, under a dark sky, with a
chilly wind blowing.

"After all, it's home," said Samson, when late in the evening they saw
the lighted windows of the cabin ahead. When they had put out their
horses and come in by the glowing fire, Samson lifted Sarah in his arms
again and kissed her.

"I'm kind o' silly, mother, but I can't help it--you look so temptin',"
said Samson.

"She looks like an angel," said Harry, as he improved his chance to
embrace and kiss the lady of the cabin.

"The wind has been peckin' at us all day," said Samson. "But it's worth
it to get back home and see your face and this blazin' fire."

"And the good, hot supper," said Harry, as they sat down at the table.

They told of the Brimsteads and their visit.

"Well, I want to know!" said Sarah. "Big house and plenty o' money! If
that don't beat all!"

"That oldest girl is the thing that beats all," said Samson. "She's as
handsome as Bim."

"I suppose Harry fell in love with her," Sarah suggested, with a smile.

"I've lost my ability to fall in love," said the young man.

"It will come back--you see," said Sarah. "I'm going to get her to pay us
a visit in the spring."

Harry went out to feed and water the horses.

"Did you get along all right?" Samson asked.

"Colonel Lukins did the chores faithfully, night and morning," Sarah
answered. "His wife helped me with the sewing yesterday. She talked all
day about the 'Colonel.' Mrs. Beach, that poor woman from Ohio on the
west road who has sent her little girl so often to borrow tea and sugar,
came to-day and wanted to borrow the baby. Her baby is sick and her
breasts were paining her."

CHAPTER XIV

I