THE LAKE SHORE— DIVERSION loi 



was a peculiarly arresting spot in the frozen wonder- 

 land — exquisitely still, yet remote as the lovely 

 face of a dear friend in the abandonment of death ; 

 but in summer it is a jewel in the setting of the 

 indescribably beautiful lake shore, which seems to 

 hold fast the inspiration of colour in the caress of 

 shadow and silence, as though, even whilst it 

 worshipped, it withheld its best gift from the 

 inexorable enchantment of the sun-god enthroned 

 over hill and valley, wind and wave, in the clear 

 compelling majesty of highest heaven. 



At the Clyst we lived very simply. The seven 

 o'clock breakfast-bell rang usually and most mer- 

 cifully in the neighbourhood of half-past eight. 

 When my host was at home he read and wrote 

 through the greater part of the day in his study, 

 and he always knew the English news according to 

 the Times. I don't think I ever remember a house 

 where people talked so much or gossiped less. My 

 hostess assisted her lady-help in the household 

 duties, as do the greater number of Canadian ladies. 

 I made my bed and kept my room in order except 

 for a weekly turn-out, but I was never permitted 

 to do the smallest household duty outside the 

 threshold of my own door. There was also a chore- 

 boy, who eventually found a place in the early 

 history of my farming experiment. 



He arrived at " the Clyst " about a week after 

 me, and his name was Heriot Hylton-Cave. He had 

 come out from England the preceding July armed 

 with an introduction to some desirable English 

 people, for whom he had worked through the harvest 

 and threshing seasons. The son of a clergyman's 

 widow of limited income, defective eyesight had 



