turned, there are blackened, grimy hands that come
together and grip-hands that have not joined for many a long day."

Old Palmer, Ross's neighbour, moved uneasily. He had once helped Ross to
put a fire out, but they had quarrelled again since. Ross still sat in
the same position, looking the hard man he was. Peter glanced at Ross,
looked down and thought a while, and then went on again:

"There is beauty even in this life and in this place. When a man loses
his farm, or his stock, or his crop, through no fault of his own, there
are poor men who put their hands into their pockets to help him."

Old Kurtz, over the ridge, had had his stacked crop of wheat in sheaf
burned--some scoundrel had put a match to it at night--and the farmers
round had collected nearly fifty pounds for him.

"There is beauty even in this life and in this place. In the blazing
drought, when the cattle lie down and cannot rise from weakness,
neighbours help neighbours to lift them. When one man has hay or chaff
and no stock, he gives it or sells it cheaply to the poor man who has
starving cattle and no fodder."

I only knew one or two instances of this kind; but Peter was preaching
of what man should do as well as what they did.

"When a man meets with an accident, or dies, there are young men who go
with their ploughs and horses and plough the ground for him or his widow
and put in the crop."

Jim Bullock and one or two other young men squirmed. They had ploughed
old Leonard's land for him when he met with an accident in the shape
of a broken leg got by a kick from a horse. They had also ploughed the
ground for Mrs Phipps when her husband died, working, by the way, all
Saturday afternoon and Sunday, for they were very busy at home at that
time.

"There is beauty even in this life and in this place. There are women
who were friends in girlhood and who quarrelled bitterly over a careless
word, an idle tale, or some paltry thing, who live within a mile of
each other and have not spoken for years; yet let one fall ill, or lose
husband or child, and the other will hurry across to her place and
take off her bonnet and tuck up her sleeves, and set to work to help
straighten things, and they will kiss, and cry in each other's arms, and
be sisters again."

I saw tears in the eyes of two hard and hard-faced women I knew; but
they were smiling to each other through their tears.

"And now," said Peter, "I want to talk to you about some other thing