imulant for that, working upon material too plastic and too
hypothetical; it is not yet a normal force, with an operation to be
reckoned on with confidence. It is indeed the touchstone for character
in a new people, for character acquired as apart from that inherited;
it sometimes reveals surprises. Neither Lorne Murchison nor Elmore Crow
illustrates this point very nearly. Lorne would have gone into the law
in any case, since his father was able to send him, and Elmore would
inevitably have gone back to the crops since he was early defeated by
any other possibility. Nevertheless, as they walk together in my mind
along the Elgin market square, the Elgin Collegiate Institute rises
infallibly behind them, a directing influence and a responsible parent.
Lorne was telling his great news.

"You don't say!" remarked Elmore in response to it. "Lumbago is it? Pa's
subject to that too; gets an attack most springs. Mr Fulke'll have to
lay right up--it's the only thing."

"I'm afraid he will. And Warner never appeared in court in his life."

"What d'ye keep Warner for, then?"

"Oh, he does the conveyancing. He's a good conveyancer, but he isn't
any pleader and doesn't pretend to be. And it's too late to transfer the
case; nobody could get to the bottom of it as we have in the time. So it
falls on me."

"Caesar, his ghost! How d'ye feel about it, Lorne? I'd be scared green.
Y'don't TALK nervous. Now I bet you get there with both feet."

"I hope to get there," the young lawyer answered; and as he spoke a
concentration came into his face which drove the elation and everything
else that was boyish out of it. "It's bigger business than I could have
expected for another five years. I'm sorry for the old man, though--HE'S
nervous, if you like. They can hardly keep him in bed. Isn't that
somebody beckoning to you?"

Elmore looked everywhere except in the right direction among the carts.
If you had been "to the Collegiate," relatives among the carts selling
squashes were embarrassing.

"There," his companion indicated.

"It's Mother," replied Mr Crow, with elaborate unconcern; "but I don't
suppose she's in anything of a hurry. I'll just go along with you far's
the post-office." He kept his glance carefully from the spot at which
he was signalled, and a hint of copper colour crawled up the back of his
neck.

"Oh, but she is. Come along, Elmore; I can go that way."

"It'll be longer for you."

"Not a bit." Lorne cast a shrewd