STONING THE LAND 187 



day or so on the place you will see that others can 

 do just as well as this man McMahon." 



I saw I was up against a strong sense of the com- 

 parative, and inquired about his wife and child. 



When we got home I found that Roddy McMahon 

 had finished work, cooked his own supper, and gone 

 on to his cousin's for the night. 



I prepared supper and took it with the new man, 

 thinking he might be lonely, as undoubtedly he was. 



" Ah, how different it all is ! " he said with a deep 

 sigh after he had thrown a most unflattering glance 

 around the kitchen. " At home you should have 

 seen my house. My dining-room — a carpet, arm- 

 chairs, sideboard and all." 



In the morning milking was a slow process. 

 Roddy McMahon, always kind to newcomers, 

 helped him out with the hard cow, and then took 

 him off with the team and pick, crowbar, and stone- 

 boat to learn the meaning of stoning the land. 



At the end of the morning he returned looking 

 so very tired that I said that I would go along and 

 help in the afternoon, and he enjoyed himself 

 thoroughly when I spent a full ten minutes getting 

 together all the little stones that don't matter. 

 Roddy McMahon got off the plough and took me 

 to a big fellow in the neighbourhood of the plough, 

 and showed me how to test its depth and raise it 

 if possible by inserting the crowbar as a lever, and 

 when it was too tightly set to move in this manner 

 to free it from the imprisoning earth with the 

 pick ; and all without a word, barring the usual 

 phrase of encouragement at the end, " I guess you'll 

 get them out all right — but it ain't no work for a 

 woman." 



