an must have
given out before she found it too dark to go on with their labours. But
the thought of the mother, weary with the work at home, made her shorten
the day to her brothers and lengthen it to herself.

One of Shenac's faults was a tendency to go to extremes in all things
that interested her. She had made up her mind that the summer's work
must be successful; and to insure success all other things must be made
to yield. It was easy for her to forget the weakness of Hamish, for he
was only too willing to forget it himself; and as for Dan, though there
was some truth in Angus Dhu's assertion to his mother that "he was a
wild lad, and needed a firm hand to guide him," he gave no tokens of
breaking away as yet. Shenac had so impressed him with the idea that
they must keep the farm as their own, and show the neighbours that they
could keep it in order, that to him every successful day's work seemed a
triumph over Angus Dhu as well as over circumstances. His industry was
quite of his own free will, as he believed, and he gave Shenac none of
the credit of keeping him busy, and indeed she took none of the credit
to herself. In her determination to do the most that could be done, she
might have forgotten her mother's comfort too; but this was not
permitted. For if the mother tired herself with work, or if she saw
anything forgotten or neglected in the house, she became fretful and
desponding, and against this Shenac always strove to guard.

If Shenac were ever so tired at night, it rested her to turn back to
look over the fields beginning to grow green and beautiful under their
hands. They worked in those days to some purpose, everybody
acknowledged. In no neighbourhood, far or near, were the fields better
worth looking at than those that had been so faithfully gone over by
Shenac and her brothers. Many a farmer paused, in passing, to admire
them, saying to himself that the Widow MacIvor's children were a credit
to her and to themselves; and few were so churlish as to refrain from
speaking a word of encouragement to them when an opportunity came.

Even Angus Dhu gave many a glance of wonder and pleasure over his cedar
rails, and gave them credit for having done more than well. He was very
glad. He said so to himself, and he said so to his neighbours. And I
believe he was glad, in a way. He was too good a farmer not to take
pleasure in seeing land made the most of; and I think he was glad, too,
to see the