PREPARING SEED-GRAIN 255 



over the tree, I turned to draw out my leg and found 

 it fixed as in a vice. The ghastly fate of the lower 

 limbs of Roddy McMahon's father flashed to my 

 brain, and I had a bad moment. Most thankfully 

 I made the passage home on two sound limbs, and 

 resolved never to take chances concerning my most 

 useful extremities, and kept the vow. 



In the intervals between stable and feeding 

 chores and the emancipation of felled trees it was 

 almost unbearably cold. On Monday, January 14, 

 I learned from my neighbour that the temperature 

 had dropped to fifty-five below. I begged that he 

 would not tell me of any further descent, and felt 

 thankful that I didn't possess a thermometer. 

 Nevertheless, the following notes in my diary bear 

 witness to the fact that one is physically in thrall 

 to the inexorable hold of extreme cold. 



" "January 16. — Chored, and made good progress 

 with th'e wood pile. Bitterly, almost unbearably, cold. 



" January 17. — Sleepless nights and feeling the 

 cold badly. Could do nothing worth doing to-day. 

 Getting up late and going to bed early to economize 

 fuel. 



''''January 18. — An appreciable shade warmer. 

 Small addition to wood pile, as poor Pax feels the 

 cold terribly and whined to come home early. 



" January 19. — Mr. Green (my neighbour's hired 

 man) brought me a loaf of excellent bread and did 

 a splendid morning's work for me. Temperature 

 considerably easier but the wind bitter, and every 

 sign of a blizzard. Felt bad and sad. My lesser 

 ills are so trying. Chilblains and occasional rheuma- 

 tism, and even the horses can be rather exasperating, 



