THE END OF THE YEAR 251 



destitute, for if matters are past improvement at 

 least they effect a change. By the time I had 

 ended my attempt to impress upon my neighbour 

 the depth and breadth of the value of the gift of 

 w^hich his wretched cattle had robbed me, I believed 

 it all myself, and w^ent to bed on Christmas night 

 a very injured person indeed. 



The morning found the temperature set forty 

 below zero, and the wind biting. I went out and 

 worked at the fence and the gate, but in sprints of 

 ten minutes only. I was vainly endeavouring to 

 staple barbed wire into place when I saw Mrs. 

 McDougall driving up the trail with a hoHday 

 Ij guest. 



" I guess I could make you a gate in no time," 

 she said. I did not doubt it, because she really 

 could do anything. 



We had a long and pleasant gossip about English 

 people and things as we sat around my stove, but I 

 think she was the first and last of my visitors that 

 winter, barring my neighbour and the Vicar. 

 The cold settled in badly, the thermometer spending 

 its time anywhere between forty and fifty below 

 zero. In the last days of the old year I went in to 

 tell my predecessor that my bank draft from England 

 might be late, so that if it did not reach him by the 

 first he would understand. 



To my intense surprise he expressed himself 

 perfectly content to wait as long as I pleased, not 

 only for the principal, but for the interest. 



I thanked him and was greatly relieved, but 

 declined the offer to postpone payment of the 

 interest, having heard once that compound interest 

 would^break the Bank of England. However, he 



