quite so dark colored," said Jack.

"I knew all about you when you took my hand and helped me on the
pony--or nearly all. You are a gentleman."

"I hope so."

"Are you a Presbyterian?"

"No--Church of England."

"I was sure of that. I have seen Indians and Shakers, but I have never
seen a Presbyterian."

When the sun was low and the company ahead were stopping to make a camp
for the night, the boy and girl dismounted. She turned facing him and
asked:

"You didn't mean it when you said that I was good-looking--did you?"

The bashful youth had imagination and, like many lads of his time, a
romantic temperament and the love of poetry. There were many books in
his father's home and the boy had lived his leisure in them. He
thought a moment and answered:

"Yes, I think you are as beautiful as a young doe playing in the
water-lilies."

"And you look as if you believed yourself," said she. "I am sure you
would like me better if I were fixed up a little."

"I do not think so."

"How much better a boy's head looks with his hair cut close like yours.
Our boys have long hair. They do not look so much like--men."

"Long hair is not for rough work in the bush," the boy remarked.

"You really look brave and strong. One would know that you could do
things."

"I've always had to do things."

They came up to the party who had stopped to camp for the night. It
was a clear warm evening. After they had hobbled the horses in a near
meadow flat, Jack and his father made a lean-to for the women and
children and roofed it with bark. Then they cut wood and built a fire
and gathered boughs for bedding. Later, tea was made and beefsteaks
and bacon grilled on spits of green birch, the dripping fat being
caught on slices of toasting bread whereon the meat was presently
served.

The masterful power with which the stalwart youth and his father swung
the ax and their cunning craftsmanship impressed the English woman and
her daughter and were soon to be the topic of many a London tea party.
Mrs. Hare spoke of it as she was eating her supper.

"It may surprise you further to learn that the boy is fairly familiar
with the Aeneid and the Odes of Horace and the history of France and
England," said John Irons.

"That is the most astonishing thing I have ever heard!" she exclaimed.
"How has he done it?"

"The minister was his master until we went into the bush. Then I had
to be farmer and school-teacher. There is a