“He were deservin’ of un, an’ more.  He were passin’ my maid two year runnin’ an’ I can’t be havin’ that,” insisted the father as he hung up his adikey and stooped to open the komatik box, from which he extracted a small package which he handed to Emily saying, “Somethin’ Bessie were sendin’.”

“Look!  Look, mother!” Emily cried excitedly as she undid the package and discovered a bit of red ribbon; “a hair ribbon an’—­an’ a paper with some writin’!”

Mrs. Gray duly examined and admired the gift while Emily spelled out the message.

[Illustration (handwriting):  to dear emily Wishin mery Crismus from Bessie]

“Oh, an’ Bessie’s fine t’ be rememberin’ me!” said she, adding regretfully, “I’m wishin’ I’d been sendin’ she somethin’ but I hasn’t a thing t’ send.”

“Aye, Bessie’s a fine lass,” said her father.  “She sees me comin’ an’ runs down t’ meet me, an’ asks how un be, an’ if we’re hearin’ e’er a word from Bob.  An’ I tells she Emily’s fine an’ we’re not hearin’ from Bob, but are thinkin’ un may be comin’ home for th’ New Year.  An’ then Bessie says as she’s wantin’ t’ come over at th’ New Year t’ visit Emily.”

“An’ why weren’t you askin’ she t’ come back with un th’ day?” asked Mrs. Gray.

“Oh, I wish she had!” exclaimed Emily.

“I were askin’ she,” he explained, “but she were thinkin’ she’d wait till th’ New Year.  Her mother’s rare busy th’ week wi’ th’ men all in from th’ bush, an’ needin’ Bessie’s help.”

“An’ how’s th’ folk findin’ th’ fur?” asked Mrs. Gray as she poured the tea.

“Wonderful fine.  Wonderful fine with all un as be in.”

“An’ I’m glad t’ hear un.  ‘Twill be givin’ th’ folk a chance t’ pay th’ debts.  Th’ two bad seasons must ha’ put most of un in a bad way for debt.”

“Aye, ‘twill that.  An’ now we’re like t’ have two fine seasons.  ’Tis th’ way un always runs.”

“‘Tis th’ Lard’s way,” said Mrs. Gray reverently.

“The’s a band o’ Injuns come th’ day,” added Richard Gray, “an’ they reports fur rare plenty inside, as ‘tis about here.  An’ I’m thinkin’ Bob’ll be doin’ fine his first year in th’ bush.”

“Oh, I’m hopin’—­I’m hopin’ so—­for th’ lad’s sake an’ Emily’s.  ’Tis how th’ Lard’s makin’ a way for th’ brave lad t’ send Emily t’ th’ doctor—­an’ he comes back safe.”

“I were askin’ th’ Mountaineers had they seen Nascaupee footin’, an’ they seen none.  They’re sayin’ th’ Nascaupees has been keepin’ t’ th’ nuth’ard th’ winter, an’ we’re not t’ fear for th’ lad.”

“Thank th’ Lard!” exclaimed Mrs. Gray.  “Thank th’ Lard!  An’ now that’s relievin’ my mind wonderful—­relievin’—­it—­wonderful.”

There was an added earnestness to Richard Gray’s expressions of thanksgiving when he knelt with his wife by their child’s couch for family worship that Christmas eve, and there was an unwonted happiness in their hearts when they went to their night’s rest.