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bout their work, setting the table, "bilin' the tea," and frying the bacon. When Red McWha came in from the barn, and stamped the snow from his feet, Rosy-Lilly said "Hush!" laid her finger on her lip, and glanced meaningly at the moveless shape in the bunk. "We mus' let 'im sleep, Rosy-Lilly says," decreed Johnson, with an emphasis which penetrated McWha's unsympathetic consciousness, and elicited a non-committal grunt. When supper was ready, Rosy-Lilly hung around him for a minute or two before dragging her chair up to the table. She evidently purposed paying him the compliment of sitting close beside him and letting him cut her bacon for her. But finding that he would not even glance at her, she fetched a deep sigh, and took her place beside Johnson. When the meal was over and the dishes had been washed up, she let Johnson put her to bed in her little bunk behind the stove. She wanted to kiss her father for good-night, as usual; but when Johnson insisted that to do so might wake him up, and be bad for him, she yielded tearfully; and they heard her sobbing herself to sleep. For nearly an hour the two men smoked in silence, their steaming feet under the stove, their backs turned towards the long, unstirring shape in the big bunk. At last Johnson stood up and shook himself. "Well," he drawled, "I s'pose we mus' be doin' the best we kin fer poor old Joe." "He ain't left us no ch'ice!" snapped McWha. "We can't leave him here in the house," continued Johnson, irresolutely. "No, no!" answered McWha. "He'd ha'nt it, an' us, too, ever after, like as not. We got to give 'im lumberman's shift, till the Boss kin send and take 'im back to the Settlement for the parson to do 'im up right an' proper." So they rolled poor Joe Godding up in one of the tarpaulins which covered the sleds, and buried him deep in the snow, under the big elm behind the cabin, and piled a monument of cordwood above him, so that the foxes and wild cats could not disturb his lonely sleep, and surmounted the pile with a rude cross to signify its character. Then, with lighter hearts, they went back to the cabin fire, which seemed to burn more freely now that the grim presence of its former master had been removed. "Now what's to be done with the kid--with Rosy-Lilly?" began Johnson. Red McWha took his pipe from his mouth, and spat accurately into the crack of the grate to signify that he had no opinion on that important subject. "They
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