emotion
at this work of faith and hope which Mathieu was so boldly undertaking.
It was a clear, warm day in the middle of June, with a pure, broad
sky that encouraged confidence. And as the children had been given a
holiday, they played about in the surrounding grass, and one could hear
the shrill cries of little Rose while she amused herself with running
after the three boys.

"Will you deal the first blow?" Mathieu gayly asked his wife.

But she pointed to her baby. "No, no, I have my work. Deal it yourself,
you are the father."

He stood there with two men under his orders, but ready himself
to undertake part of the hard manual toil in order to help on the
realization of his long thought of, ripening scheme. With great prudence
and wisdom he had assured himself a modest livelihood for a year of
effort, by an intelligent scheme of association and advances repayable
out of profits, which would enable him to wait for his first harvest.
And it was his life that he risked on that future crop, should the earth
refuse his worship and his labor. But he was a faithful believer, one
who felt certain of conquering, since love and determination were his.

"Well then, here goes!" he gallantly cried. "May the earth prove a good
mother to us!"

Then he dealt the first blow with his pick.

The work was begun to the left of the old pavilion, in a corner of that
extensive marshy tableland, where little streams coursed on all sides
through the reeds which sprang up everywhere. It was at first simply a
question of draining a few acres by capturing these streams and turning
them into canals, in order to direct them afterwards over the dry sandy
slopes which descended towards the railway line. After an attentive
examination Mathieu had discovered that the work might easily be
executed, and that water-furrows would suffice, such was the disposition
and nature of the ground. This, indeed, was his real discovery, not to
mention the layer of humus which he felt certain would be found amassed
on the plateau, and the wondrous fertility which it would display as
soon as a ploughshare had passed through it. And so with his pick he
now began to open the trench which was to drain the damp soil above, and
fertilize the dry, sterile, thirsty ground below.

The open air, however, had doubtless given Gervais an appetite, for he
began to cry. He was now a strong little fellow, three months and a half
old, and never neglected mealtime. He was gr