him beyond measure, was three women in one of the sleds who had come to make dinner and took possession of his shanty.  They worked with a will.  The logs were hauled and built into heaps and fire set, and every art the backwoodsman knows was used to make them burn.  As ashes were scraped they were shovelled into the boxes on the sleds and started for Magarth’s, returning with small loads of boards.  With so many hands the small clearance was, late in the afternoon, put in such a shape that Archie and two men who remained could do the rest.  Before the week was out, he had oats and peas sown, and a patch reserved for corn and potatoes.  At Magarth’s $10 had been placed to his credit for ashes delivered.

As he was cooking his breakfast Archie was surprised by a sound at a distance which he recognized as the strokes of an ax.  Listening with rapt attention, there came, in a few minutes, the familiar crash of a tree falling.  ’That means I have got a neighbor:  somebody has taken a lot at the end of the concession,’ said Archie, and he set about his day’s work in high spirits.  It was as fine a day as a June day can be, and there is no finer the world over.  The brilliant blue of the sky was brought out by a few snowy cloudlets drifting before a gentle breeze, which tempered the warmth of the glorious sunshine.  The heart of the young man was glad and found expression in song and whistling as he wielded the ax.  What caused him to pause in blank astonishment?  From the woods behind him, came a voice singing ’O whistle and I will come to you my lad.’  It was a woman’s voice, it was a familiar voice.  Dropping his ax he bounded towards the figure emerging from the bush where the sled-road entered his clearance.  ‘It is my own sister!’ he shouted in a scream of joy, and clasped her in his brawny arms.  ’O, Mirren, have you dropped from the sky?  I would have as soon expected to meet an angel.’

’I am just a sonsy Ayrshire lass and have come on my feet and not on wings.  Eh, but you’ve changed—­ye’ve worked over hard.’

’It has been sweet work, for it was for father and mother.  Nothing wrong with them that sent you here?’

‘I left them well, and hoping to join us next spring.’

’And how did you come—­what started you—­where did you get the passage money—­how did you find your way here?’

‘I’ll tell you after I have seen this grand house of yours.  An’ this is the shanty you wrote about with everything out and inside higgle-de-piggeldy!  Ye are a great housekeeper to be sure.  Why, your house has not got a lum! (chimney).  Did you have breakfast yet?  Poor fellow, no wonder your cheeks are thin.’

’Never mind, Mirren, I have planned a new house and with your help it will soon be built.’

‘That it will, Archie; it is to help you I have come.’

Sitting side by side on a pile of boards, Mirren told how she had come.  On Archie’s letter reaching his mother with three pounds enclosed she saw the possibility of Mirren going to Canada.  ’The passage money is four pounds, mother, and there is the buying of what cannot be done without.  We will have to wait for another remittance.’