tched him in all the
attitudes of the sportsman.

He was enthusiastic over the first few drawings. Perhaps his simple
remarks, "H'm, that's clever!" or, "By Jove, that's not half bad!" gave
her a purer pleasure than she could have derived from the most
discriminating criticism. When his interest showed signs of flagging,
she hit on a new means of rousing it. She began to find out that so long
as she drew correctly, he looked on with a melancholy indifference, but
that when she made any mistake he was always delighted to put her right.
So she went on making mistakes, and then Vincent got impatient.

"Look here, Sis, that's all wrong. You don't carry a rifle with the
muzzle pointing towards your left ear. Here, give the thing to me!"

Katherine gravely handed him another sketch--

"How's that?"

"That's worse. Why, you little duffer, you don't suppose I'm going to
send a bullet into that bear taking aim at _that_ angle? I should blow
my boots off. I thought you could draw?"

She smiled in secret. "So I can, if you'll show me which way up the
things go."

Then they put their heads together over it, and between them they turned
out some work worthy of the Pioneer-book. Ted joined in too, and began a
black-and-white series of his own, parodying the acts of the
distinguished sportsman: Vincent attacked by a skunk; Vincent swarming
up a pine tree with a bear hanging on to his trousers' legs; Vincent
shooting the rapids in his canoe--canoe uppermost; and so on. Ted was so
much entertained with his own performances that he was actually heard to
laugh. And when the boy laughed, the man laughed too. As for Katherine,
she could have cried, knowing that a returning sense of humour is often
the surest sign of hope in these cases.

Laughter, flattery, and feminine wiles may not be the methods most
commended by moralists and divines for the conversion of poor sinners;
but Katherine seldom consulted authorities--she had the courage of her
convictions.

One fine morning in February she appeared in her hat and jacket at the
door of the ground-floor sitting-room.

"Vincent, will you come with me to the Zoo? I'm going to do some
grizzlies and wapiti--from the life--for the Pioneer-book, and I want
you to help me."

He agreed, and they started almost gaily, with Mrs. Rogers peering up at
them from the front area-window, putting that and that together with the
ingenuity of her kind. It was the first of many walks they had
toget