THE SEEDING MONTH 271 



door and window open. Softest, warmest sun- 

 shine. Good day's work." 



On April 8 Roddy McMahon returned for the 

 seeding month. It was cold and stormy, but he 

 wasn't afraid of the weather, and talked with much 

 energy about the stones, although eventually I 

 removed the greater number of these myself, stoning 

 not being among his strong points. We were both 

 very anxious to get in the seed early, and he was 

 mightily pleased that it was so clean and good to 

 look at and to show other people. He promptly 

 volunteered to take his turn at the mill-handle, 

 although he criticized my new purchase as " good 

 and slow all right." In my heart I was afraid he 

 might not be quite so careful as I was in picking 

 out any stray wild oats when bagging up ; but I 

 had determined to pickle every grain myself, and 

 reserved that occasion for the final capture of those 

 strange, dark, creeping vampires of the grain world 

 which, when they once obtain entrance, take pos- 

 session of the soil with swiftest power, and cannot 

 only take the place of the wheat but suck health 

 and strength from the few blades here and there 

 that fight through its thrall into a puny existence. 

 Wild oats can knock off three-fourths of the 

 value of a wheat crop almost before the farmer 

 has time to realize that the enemy is within the 

 field. 



The second day after the return of Roddy 

 McMahon I awoke to a heavy snowfall, and fell 

 back on a heavy heart. 



That time I was utterly, completely rebellious. 

 Through the winter weeks I had got up on time 

 and done my chores more or less cheerfully, but the 



