MY FIRST CHORE-BOY 141 



" There are two things I haven't the smallest 

 intention of doing in Canada or anywhere else," I 

 answered. " Milking and making bread." 



On the 1 8th Heriot Hylton-Cave, released by the 

 Millingtons, joined my forces as chore- boy. Owing 

 to my ignorance in the art of hitching up, I had 

 walked five miles down to the Fort for my mail and 

 two miles on to the Clyst to find out the exact date 

 of his arrival. I found that it was that same day, 

 and after four-o'clock tea we set out on the seven- 

 mile tramp home. Before we marked half-way I 

 felt quite sure he was feeling a little tired, and, 

 with a guilty feeling that my companion did not 

 enjoy walking as much as I, longed for landmarks 

 long before they were due to arrive. How- 

 ever, we reached home, and Mabel Mazey's daily 

 visits and my stable-cleaning duties ceased for a 

 while. 



Without inquiring into the average wages of 

 chore-boys of Mr. Millington or my neighbours, I 

 had offered Heriot Hylton-Cave fifteen dollars a 

 month. He was always up so very early at the 

 Millingtons', the stables on the occasion of my 

 visits had seemed particularly clean and tidy, and 

 he had had the advantage of some months' experience 

 on the big farm of the Englishman to whose imme- 

 diate care he had been confided, and to whom from 

 his own account he had rendered valuable service 

 at harvest-time. Then he had made his own 

 dressing-table at the Clyst, and my frankly ex- 

 pressed admiration of the neat and ingenious 

 contrivance brought forth the history of his know- 

 ledge and experience of carpentering which sounded 

 well, and I felt it would be invaluable and count for 



