CHAPTER XV. 



Some of Our Neighbours. 



Soon after settling at W'elland Ranch we dis- 

 covered that we had a strange neighbour. lie 

 inhabits a tiny peninsula, dwelling in what is little 

 better than a hole in the steep face of the shore, closed 

 by a few planks and a sloping door flush with the 

 earth's surface. The shore for many yards along the 

 front of his " palace " is generally strewn with dere- 

 lict logs, fished out of the lake. He employs himself 

 sawing these up into cordwood. This is his only 

 occupation, and the proceeds from the sale are 

 his only source of livelihood. The man himself 

 we seldom see, though we hear the sound of his saw 

 almost every day. He is a recluse; and he is a China- 

 man. We are informed that he is an outcast from 

 the society of his countrymen. He is of unsound 

 mind, and it is for that reason that the rest of the 

 Chinks (as the Canadians call the Chinese) ostracise 

 him. If one of us chance to meet him on the railway 

 or on the shore, and accost him, " Good day," or 

 with any other friendly greeting, he never speaks. 

 Nor does he even give us a glance, but marches 

 stolidly on as though we were non-existent. 



When the first spring came we used to see him 

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