The Connecticut labor press., 1920-11-06
CHAPTER Il-continued.

3
 Darkness was settling down-dark- l ness of the seventh night since their departure from Emerson-when. like mole on the face of the plain, lit tie gray lump grew on the horizon. Arthurs rose in his sleigh and waved his fur cap in the air; Harris sent back an answering cheer. Slowly the mole grew until in the gathering shad- ows it took on indistinctly the shape of building, and just as the rising moon crested the ridge of the Pembi- na hills the travellers swung up at the door. Arthurs walked unerringly to nail on the wall and took down a lan- tern; its dull flame drove the mist slowly down the glass, and presently the light was beating back from the glfstenfng frost which sparkled on ev- cry log of the little room.
 "Well, here we are in Hungry Ha11," said Arthurs. Everything just as I left it." Then, turning to his wife, "Come. Lil," he said. Jack, perhaps you have an engagement of your own." He took his wife in passionate em- brace and planted fervent kiss upon
 
 ample. Then they sat down on the boxes that served for chairs, amid a happiness too deep, for words. So the minutes passed until Mrs. Ar thurs sprang to her feet "Why, Mary" she exclaimed, 'T do believe you're crying" while the moisture glistened on her own cheek. "Now, you men, clear out! I suppose you think the horses will stable them selves? Yes, I see you have the box full of wood, Fred. That's not SO bad for, start. Leave some matches, and say. You might just get our boxes in here. Remember we've lived in these clothes for the best part of two weeks
 The young men sprang to their task, and as soon as they were out of the house the girls threw their arms about each other and wept like women to- gether. It was only for a moment; a quick dash of the hand across the eyes, and both were busy removing coats and wraps. The door opened, and their "boxes." as we'll as other equipment from the slefghs, were car ried in, and the men disappeared to the little stable at the back of the house. After several attempts the girls succeeded in starting fire in the rusted stove. and soon it's grateful heat was radiating to every corner of the room.
 The house was built of poplar logs, hewed and dove-tailed at the corners with the skill of the Ontario woods man. It was about 12x16 feet in size with collar-beams eight feet from the floor. The roof was of two thick nesses of elm boards. with tar paper between. The floor was of poplar boards. The door was in the east side, near the southeast corner; the stove stood about the center of the east wall. The only window was in the south; six panes of 9x10 glass suf- feed for light. Through this window another lantern shone back from the darkness, and the f1fckering light from the stove danced in duplicate. A rough board table sat under the window; box nailed in the southwest corner ev- idently served as cupboard. No tools or movables of any value had been left in the place, Arthurs having stored such effects with a neighbor, some dozen miles away, lest they be stolen from the cabin by some interruptions traveller during his absence.
 The days that followed were days of intense activity for both men and women. There was much to do, in- side and out. In the interior of the little house an extraordinary change was wrought; simple draperies and pictures relieved the baroness of the walls; shelves were built for the ac- commodation of many trinkets dear to the feminine heart; rag carpet cov- cred the center of the floor; plain but appetizing dishes peeked enticingly from behind the paper curtain that now clothed the bare ribs of the cup- board and a sense of homeliness per- vaded the atmosphere.
 A week had passed, and no sign of life, other than that of the little party itself, had been seen about the Ar thurs homestead, when one day Har- ris' eyes already becoming sean to the prairie distances. esried a dark point on the horizon It grew slowly from point to a spot, from spot to an object, and at length was defined as a man on horseback. Presently Aleck McCrae drew up at the door.
 "He1lo, farmers" he cried, "how goes the battle? An the good wives? Building a little Eden in this wilder. ness, I'll warrant. Tell them to put another name in the pot, an hungry name at that. I haven't seen a white womans meal don't know when."
 The friends gathered about the old timer, plying him with questions, which he answered or discussed until the meal was over, holding his own business quietly in the background. But with supper ended, his pipe in his teeth and his feet resting comfortably in the oven, he broached his subject.
 Ready for the road in the morn 8, Jack2 Don't want to break up ,~.,. JittJe foonaxyuoaan V, Lpov, b.z+