II 



THE MIRAGE OF SPRING— MY FIRST 

 CHORE-BOY — A NEW HORSE AND A 

 NEW MAN— SEEDING 



Just as the enchanting season known as the Indian 

 summer usually precedes the severity of the Cana- 

 dian winter, so does a twin-sister of enchantment, 

 which is as a mirage of spring, frequently break into 

 the monotony of winter temperature, sending zero 

 and its baffling blizzards away on the wings of the 

 four winds with just one soft breath of delicate and 

 delicious sweetness. Sometimes the blessed break 

 is as a tiny oasis in the desert, lasting but a day or 

 so ; sometimes it lingers on for two or three weeks. 

 Snow melts, ice shutters abandon the window-panes 

 with a crash, the glorious sun peers in and lies 

 deliberately, and most soothingly, about winter never 

 coming any more ; snow tears drip — drip all day 

 long from the stable roof ; long stretches of golden 

 stubble and islands of black loam emerge from the 

 soft white wrappings of winter, or peer inquisitively 

 at the sun through a mask of melting snow ; in the 

 gay sunlight and soft sweet air the plaintive note of 

 the snow-bird seems to borrow a tone of the English 

 thrush ; and if it were not that the cautious bluffs 

 are still bare and dark, that the prudent trees with- 



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