near the Motherwells.

JAMES DUCKER--a retired farmer, who has political aspirations.

CONTENTS

I. Sowing Seeds in Danny
II. The Old Doctor
III. The Pink Lady
IV. The Band of Hope
V. The Relict of the Late McGuire
VI. The Musical Sense
VII. "One of Manitoba's Prosperous Farmers"
VIII. The Other Doctor
IX. The Live Wire
X. The Butcher Ride
XI. How Pearl Watson Wiped out the Stain
XII. From Camilla's Diary
XIII. The Fifth Son
XIV. The Faith that Moveth Mountains
XV. "Inasmuch"
XVI. How Polly Went Home
XVII. "Egbert and Edythe"
XVIII. The Party at Slater's
XIX. Pearl's Diary
XX. Tom's New Viewpoint
XXI. The Crack in the Granite
XXII. Shadows
XXIII. Saved
XXIV. The Harvest
XXV. Cupid's Emissary
XXVI. The Thanksgiving
Conclusion: Convincing Camilla

Sowing Seeds in Danny

CHAPTER I

SOWING SEEDS IN DANNY

In her comfortable sitting room Mrs. J. Burton Francis sat, at peace
with herself and all mankind. The glory of the short winter afternoon
streamed into the room and touched with new warmth and tenderness the
face of a Madonna on the wall.

The whole room suggested peace. The quiet elegance of its furnishings,
the soft leather-bound books on the table, the dreamy face of the
occupant, who sat with folded hands looking out of the window, were all
in strange contrast to the dreariness of the scene below, where the one
long street of the little Manitoba town, piled high with snow,
stretched away into the level, white, never-ending prairie. A farmer
tried to force his tired horses through the drifts; a little boy with a
milk-pail plodded bravely from door to door, sometimes laying down his
burden to blow his breath on his stinging fingers.

The only sound that disturbed the quiet of the afternoon in Mrs.
Francis's sitting room was the regular rub-rub of the wash-board in the
kitchen below.

"Mrs. Watson is slow with the washing to-day," Mrs. Francis murmured
with a look of concern on her usually placid face. "Possibly she is not
well. I will call her and see."

"Mrs. Watson, will you come upstairs, please?" she called from the
stairway.

Mrs. Watson, slow and shambling, came up the stairs, and stood in the
doorway wiping her face on her apron.

"Is it me ye want ma'am?" she asked when she had recovered her breath.

"Yes, Mrs. Watson," Mrs. Francis said sweetly. "I thought p