odge of wild-fowl, the theory of which would have horrified an
epicure; but the practical effect was most savoury.

Now the boy Benny had never in his small life seen any edifice nobler
than a loghouse on the ground-floor; and the upper storey which Mr.
Callaghan had built with his chips seemed to him as queer a phenomenon
as a man having two heads.

'Well, only think of that!' exclaimed Andy; 'the boy doesn't know what a
stairs is.'

'And how should he?' asked the father, rather sharply. 'He ha'n't seen
nothin' but the bush. One time I took him to Greenock, and he couldn't
stop wonderin' what med all the houses come together. For all that, he
ha'n't a bad notion of chopping, and can drive a span of oxen, and is
growin' up as hardy as my rifle--eh, Benny?'

'He cut all the wood I wanted while you were away last time, Peter,'
chimed in the mother. So the strangers saw that the principle which
leads parents to bore their unoffending visitors with copybooks and the
'Battle of Prague,' is applicable to backwood accomplishments also.

As a general rule, conversation does not flourish in the bush. The
settler's isolated life is not favourable to exchange of thought, and
events are few. Silence had fallen upon the woman in this house to a
remarkable degree, and become incorporated with her. She went about her
work quietly and quickly, speaking but five sentences in the course of
the evening. The last of these was to notify to her husband that 'the
skins was ready.'

'We've no beds,' said he, with equal curtness. 'You must try and
be snug in a wrap-up on the floor to-night. More logs, Benny;' and
additional wood was heaped down, while he brought forward a bundle of
bear and buffalo skins, enough to blanket them all. Mary had already
picked up the pine-log containing her baby, and taken it into the other
room out of sight, whither her husband followed; and Benny crept into a
sort of bed-closet in the far corner.

All night long, through the outer darkness, came a sound as of a
limitless sea upon a lonely strand. Robert knew it for the wind
wandering in the forest, and even in his home dreams it mingled a
diapason, until the early sun gleamed through the chinks of the door,
and flung a ray across his face. Simultaneously the poultry outside and
the infant within woke up, commencing their several noises; and the
farmer, coming out, built up the fire, and hung down the bake-kettle to
heat for the breakfast bread. Then he in