ction of one of the papers, and she put
it up to us strong, that there was work for each of us. We had to make
a report of her address, and so I remember most of it.

"She said that Canada is like a great big, beautiful house that has
been given to us to finish. It is just far enough on so that you can
see how fine it is going to be--but the windows are not in--the
doors are not hung--the cornices are not put on. It needs polishing,
scraping, finishing. That is our work. Every tree we plant, every
flower we grow, every clean field we cultivate, every good cow or hog
we raise, we are helping to finish and furnish the house and make it
fit to live in. Every kind word we say or even think, every gracious
deed, if it is only thinking to bring out the neighbor's mail from
town, helps to add those little touches which distinguish a house from
a barn.

"We have many foreign people in this country, lonesome, homesick
people--sometimes we complain that they are not loyal to us--and that
is true. It is also true that they have no great reason to be loyal
to us. We are not even polite to them, to say nothing of being kind.
Loyalty cannot be rammed down any ones' throat with a flag-pole."

Mr. Steadman cleared his throat at this--and seemed about to
speak--but she went on without noticing:

"Loyalty is a gentle growth, which springs in the heart. The seeds
are in your hands and mine; the heart of our foreign people is the
soil--the time of planting is now--and the man or woman who by
their kindness, their hospitality, their fair dealing, honesty,
neighborliness, makes one of the least of these think well of Canada,
is a Master Builder in this Empire.

"If we do not set ourselves to finish the house, you know what will
happen to it. I remembered this part of her speech because it made me
think about our school-house the year before Mr. Donald came--when
we could not get a teacher. Do you remember? Windows were broken
mysteriously--the rain beat in and warped and drenched and spoiled the
floors. The chimney fell. Destruction always comes to the empty house,
she said--the unfinished house is a mark for the wantonly mischievous.
To keep what we have, we must improve it from year to year. And to
that end we must work together--fighting not with each other--but with
conditions, discouragements, ignorance, prejudice, narrowness--we must
be ready to serve, not thinking of what we can get from our country,
but what we can give to it."