Pa?"

"I see it, acushla," said her father. "And I'm thinkin' maybe there's
one for me, too."

And all day long, as John Watson worked, there was a wish in his
honest heart, so earnest a wish that it formed a prayer, that he
might be able to give his children many of the things that had been
denied him; and it came to him, vaguely at first, but growing ever
clearer that in Pearlie, Teddy and the rest of them, and his desire
to do better for them, than he had done for himself, he was getting
his second chance.

The next day saw the whole family moved out and safely landed on the
farm. Mrs. Watson, Aunt Kate and Pearlie were soon busy putting up
beds and setting the house in order. Teddy, who was fifteen years
old, and a strong boy for his age, was set to plow at once on the
field in front of the house, for it was still early in April, and
there was time to get in some crop. John Watson, when he got his
family and household goods safely landed, went to work, assisted by
Billy and Jimmy, to prop up the old stables and make them habitable
for the two cows.

Mary was given the hardest task of all--to look after her four young
brothers--not to let them play in the mud, for obvious reasons; climb
trees, which is hard on the clothes; go in bare feet, which is not a
safe thing to do until after the 24th of May; or fall in the river,
which is a dangerous proceeding at any time. Mary was something of a
child-trainer, and knew what fascination the prohibited has for
people, and so marched her four young charges down to the river,
regaling them, as they went, with terrible stories of drowning and
shipwreck. They threw sticks in, pretending they were drowning
sailors, but that soon grew monotonous, for the sailors all made
their escape and went sailing serenely down the stream. The balm of
Gilead trees exuded their healing perfume on the cool breeze that
blew ceaselessly up the broad valley; a golden-brown chipmunk raced
up a tree and scolded at them from the topmost branches; overhead, in
the clear blue of the mid-heaven, a flock of wild geese, with
flashing white wings, honked away to the Brandon Hills, en route for
that northern lake that no man knows; while a flock of goldfinches,
like a shower of marigolds, settled on a clump of willows, singing
pauselessly.

"Let's catch them and sell them," said Tommy, who had the stubby
hands of a money-maker.

"What'll ye do with the money?" Patsey asked.

But before Tommy could