nd cake, several indigenous
preserves; and Robert could not help going back with aching heart to the
scant supply of meagre fare at home; he saw again his sweet pale mother
trying to look cheerful over the poor meal, and Linda keeping up an
artificial gaiety, while her soul was sick of stints and privations.
His face grew stern and sad at the memory; enjoyment or amusement was
criminal for him while they were suffering. So when, by and by, Mr. Holt
invited him and Arthur to remain for the winter months at Maple Grove,
with a view of gaining insight of Canadian manners and Canadian farming,
he decidedly declined. He wished to push on at once; whatever hardships
lay before them, had better be combated as soon as possible. A lengthened
stay here would be a bad preparation for the wilderness life; they could
scarcely but be enervated by it.

'You're a brave lad,' said Mr. Holt, 'and I admire your pluck, though
you are plunging right into a pack of troubles; but the overcoming of
each one will be a step in the ladder to fortune. Now I'll go and get
out the horses, and ride you over to Mr. Landenstein's office: he'll
know all about the wild lands, and perhaps has a cleared farm or two
cheap.'

But unfortunately such farms did not suit Robert's pocket. One of two
hundred acres, fifty cleared and the rest bush, was offered for L240,
with a wooden house thrown into the bargain; but the purchaser's fancy
for the forest was unconquerable: it puzzled even Mr. Holt. He returned
from Mapleton the proprietor of a hundred acres of bush in a newly
settled western township, and felt much the better and cheerier that his
excursion had ended so. The future had something tangible for his grasp
now; and he only grudged every hour spent away from his sphere of labour
as an opportunity of advantage lost.

CHAPTER X.

CORDUROY.

'They wor very kind to us,' observed Andy, from his elevation in the
waggon; 'an' this counthry bates all the world at 'ating and dhrinking.'

This to Arthur Wynn, who was seated rather despondingly in front of the
collection of boxes, pots, and pails, which formed their stock-in-trade
for bush life. Sam Holt and Robert were walking on before the horse, a
furlong ahead; but Arthur had dropped behind for meditation's sake, and
taken up his residence on the waggon for awhile, with his cap drawn over
his eyes. I dare say Miss Bell had something to do with the foolish boy's
regret for leaving Maple Grove.