THE FROZEN HARVEST OF 1907 333 



whinny, and Felicity galloped up to welcome me, 

 with Nancy in close attendance, and my poor old 

 Ricky plodding along in the rear. The three horses 

 walked with me to the gate, and I remembered that 

 grain was not the only produce on a prairie farm, 

 and that one who knew things had said that every 

 situation had its compensation. And the beasts 

 did make up for a lot and were always there. The 

 cloud lifted. I determined to work my way over 

 the rock of difficulty gamely. 



The light of a lamp shone from my bedroom 

 window. I thought that perhaps my brother had 

 come along from his homestead to help me through, 

 but I found Marjorie McDougall, who had come up 

 on the mail to stay a day or two with me to help 

 me with my chores. 



The house already bore the McDougall mark of 

 a house in order. The kitchen was warm and bright, 

 supper was ready, and an air of good cheer pervaded 

 the whole. 



Si Booth did not get back till the next evening, 

 and the next day we finished the reaping of the 

 breaking. That night a very severe run of frost 

 set in, and after that the forty-nine acres of summer- 

 fallow blackened day by day in the rays of a blazing 

 sun. 



The new stooker had not long been out from 

 England. He was the son of a tailor, living in the 

 neighbourhood of London, and had been appren- 

 ticed to his father. He knew nothing whatever of 

 life or work on the land. On Saturday night a 

 gale blew, and on Sunday morning just twelve 

 stocks stood for the four dollars due for his pay. 



I restooked the greater part of his beat with 



