A DAUGHTER OF THE PRAIRIE 129 



order, so that you can get along all right until I 

 come back." 



Mabel Mazey arrived just after our midday meal 

 on the next day and went to work with a will. She 

 scrubbed the floors, polished grates, helped my 

 brother set up the little heater, and finally she 

 washed out every cloth she could lay hands on. 

 I was lying down with the tail-end of the headache 

 of the day before, but conversation was general 

 through the stove-pipes. 



" Guess now I'm right down tired. And your 

 sister, she will be thinking it's supper-time." 



It is wonderful what effect the warmth of a 

 Canadian stove will have on the brain of a chilled 

 and tired body. Of it come conquering moments 

 luring one on to new efforts. I went down and got 

 supper in a twinkling. Mabel Mazey was the 

 friendliest person, with a well-shaped head set on a 

 well- formed body, curly hair growing in the prettiest 

 way off a white brow, smiling eyes, and a humorous, 

 well-shaped mouth with perfect teeth, and a chin 

 that just curled off a pillar-like throat ; yet in those 

 days one couldn't possibly describe her in any other 

 way than rough and ready. 



All her days she had worked in the open air and 

 loved it. In herding cattle, tending young stock, 

 ploughing, discing, harrowing, she was equally 

 useful, happy, and at home ; but she was a true 

 daughter of the four winds of the prairie, and often 

 have I listened to argument as to which is the most 

 rousing way of the wind in Canada — north, south, 

 east, or west. She didn't jump at the idea of coming 

 over once a week to break the back of my domestic 

 duties. 



