The Half Way House 
through the woods at last, we came upon the 
Half Way House standing on an open high 
place. 
The Half Way House is just what such a 
refuge should be, warm, clean, and hospitable. 
The door opens into a large kitchen with a 
generous stove on one side and a floor that 
shines from much scrubbing. The McPher- 
sons keep the place and have for many a year, 
though Mrs. McPherson is still bonnie and 
charming. 
Mr. McPherson was away at the time of our 
visit, on his yearly trip to Halifax, to lay in 
provisions for the winter, of which forethought 
there is certainly need. 
Besides Mrs. McPherson, a tall Highlander 
who looked after Dan's comfort, and a young 
woman who helped about the house, we were 
the only beings in that distant and lonely spot, 
excepting a white dog with a black head and a 
tortoise-shell cat with a tortoise-shell kitten, 
which she constantly licked and which afflicted 
her motherly heart by frequently flying oflf to 
an enclosure where the cows came at night, and 
racing around the top rail out of reach of the 
maternal tongue. 
263 
