to leave behind. And there is so much to be thought of, so much
to be arranged for, so much to be done. I have had to write Duncan and
tell him I'll be a few days later than I intended. My biggest problem
has been with Whinstane Sandy and Struthers. I called them in and had
a talk with them and told them I wanted them to keep Casa Grande going
the same as ever. Then I made myself into the god from the machine by
calmly announcing the only way things could be arranged would be for
the two of them to get married.

Struthers, at this suggestion, promptly became as coy as a
partridge-hen. Whinnie, of course, remained Scottish and canny. He
became more shrewdly magnanimous, however, after we'd had a bit of
talk by ourselves. "Weel, I'll tak' the woman, rather than see her
frettin' hersel' to death!" he finally conceded, knowing only too
well he'd nest warm and live well for the rest of his days. He'd been
hoping, he confessed to me, that some day he'd get back to that claim
of his up in the Klondike. But he wasn't so young as he once was. And
perhaps Dinkie, when he was grown to a man, could go up and look after
his rights. 'Twould be a grand journey, he averred with a sigh, for a
high-spirited lad turned twenty.

"I'll be stayin' with Pee-Wee and the old place here," concluded
Whinstane Sandy, giving me his rough old hand as a pledge. And with
tears in my eyes I lifted that faithful old hand up to my lips and
kissed it. Whinnie, I knew, would die for me. But he would pass away
before he'd be willing to put his loyalty and his courage and his
kind-heartedness into pretty speeches. Struthers, on the other hand,
has become too flighty to be of much use to me in my packing. She has
plunged headlong into a riot of baking, has sent for a fresh supply of
sage tea, and is secretly perusing a dog-eared volume which I have
reason to know is _The Marriage Guide_.

Gershom, all things considered, is the most dolorous member of our
home circle. He says little, but inspects me with the wounded eyes of
a neglected spaniel. He will stay on at Casa Grande until the Easter
holidays, and then migrate to the Teetzels'. As for Dinkie and Poppsy,
they are too young to understand. The thought of change excites them,
but they have no idea of what they are leaving behind.

Last night, when I was dog-tired after my long day's work, I
remembered about Dinkie's school-essays and took them out to read. And
having done so, I realized there was some