s time and secure his chance, and
when it came to that, that he had to yield, of to humble himself, to
meet loss, or to dispense beyond what was pleasing to a man who took
reasonable satisfaction in getting and in holding, he could yet do it
without wincing visibly. He was fortunate in being in the hands of two
good women, his mother and his wife, who knew him well, and loved him
well, and who were jealous for his honour before men, and for his
singleness of heart before God.

Of course John's knowledge of his character came later, and by slow
degrees. But even on this first night he was greatly interested in his
talk, which was at once "worldly wise and heavenly simple," as he
afterward heard one of his neighbours say. And Jacob was strong in
nature as in name. He could "hold on." He had paid every dollar which
his farm had originally cost him, by the work of his own hands on other
men's farms. And with the help of his mother first, and then of his
wife, "who each carried a good head on her shoulders," as he told John,
he had made it pay. By and by he added another hundred acres to the
first hundred, and later, when "the Western fever" set in, and people
began to talk about prairie lands, and great wheat farms to be made out
there in the Far West, one of his neighbours sold out to him, and
Jacob's two hundred acres became four.

"And that is about as much as I want to have on my hands, till labour
comes to cost less, which won't be for a spell, as things look now,"
said he.

All this he told to John while a second heavy shower kept him waiting.
Before the rain was over, Willie Bain was at rest for the night, in Mrs
Strong's south chamber. Then John told all that was necessary for them
to know about the lad,--how, though he had known friends of his at home,
he had never seen the lad himself until he had met him by chance on the
lake shore. Finding him alone and ill, he had taken him home and cared
for him. Bain was better now, and would soon be well. Yes, he meant to
stay in the country. As to himself, John could not say whether he would
stay long or not; the chances were he would remain for a time.

Then when the rain seemed over, John rose to go. The folk where they
lived might be troubled about them. He had something to do in the
morning, but in the course of the day he would come back for his friend.
And with many thanks for their kindness to the lad, he took his
departure.

Since William Bain ha