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〃Well； my darling！ have you been a good boy all afternoon？〃
〃Huh…huh！ Guess who's come back from the shanties！〃
〃I'm sure I can't guess。 Who is it？〃 It was a very bright and
very sweet face； with large； serious； gray…brown eyes that looked
down on the little boy。
〃Guess； mamma！〃
〃Why； who can it be？ Big Mack？〃
〃No！〃 Hughie danced delightedly。 〃Try again。 He's not big。〃
〃I am sure I can never guess。 Whoa； Pony！〃 Pony was most
unwilling to get in close enough to the gate…post to let Hughie
spring on behind his mother。
〃You'll have to be quick； Hughie； when I get near again。 There
now！ Whoa； Pony！ Take care； child！〃
Hughie had sprung clean off the post； and lighting on Pony's back
just behind the saddle； had clutched his mother round the waist；
while the pony started off full gallop for the stable。
〃Now； mother； who is it？〃 insisted Hughie； as Lambert； the French…
Canadian man…of…all…work； lifted him from his place。
〃You'll have to tell me； Hughie！〃
〃Ranald！〃
〃Ranald？〃
〃Yes； Ranald and his father； Macdonald Dubh； and he's hurted awful
bad； and〃
〃Hurt； Hughie；〃 interposed the mother； gently。
〃Huh…huh！ Ranald said he was hurted。〃
〃Hurt； you mean； Hughie。 Who was hurt？ Ranald？〃
〃No； his father was hurtedhurtawful bad。 He was lying down in
the sleigh； and Yankee Jim〃
〃Mr。 Latham； you mean； Hughie。〃
〃Huh…huh；〃 went on Hughie； breathlessly； 〃and YankeeMr。 Latham
asked if the minister was home； and I said 'No；' and then they went
away。〃
〃What was the matter？ Did you see them； Lambert？〃
〃Oui〃 （〃Way；〃 Lambert pronounced it）； 〃but dey not tell me what
he's hurt。〃
The minister's wife went toward the house； with a shadow on her
face。 She shared with her husband his people's sorrows。 She knew
even better than he the life…history of every family in the
congregation。 Macdonald Dubh had long been classed among the wild
and careless in the community； and it weighed upon her heart that
his life might be in danger。
〃I shall see him to…morrow；〃 she said to herself。
For a few moments she stood on the doorstep looking at the glow in
the sky over the dark forest； which on the west side came quite up
to the house and barn。
〃Look； Hughie； at the beautiful tints in the clouds； and see the
dark shadows pointing out toward us from the bush。〃 Hughie glanced
a moment。
〃Mamma；〃 he said； 〃I am just dead for supper。〃
〃Oh； not quite； I hope； Hughie。 But look； I want you to notice
those clouds and the sky behind them。 How lovely！ Oh； how
wonderful！〃
Her enthusiasm caught the boy； and for a few moment she forgot even
his hunger； and holding his mother's hand； gazed up at the western
sky。 It was a picture of rare beauty that lay stretched out from
the manse back door。 Close to the barn came the pasture…field
dotted with huge stumps； then the brule where the trees lay fallen
across one another； over which the fire had run； and then the solid
wall of forest here and there overtopped by the lofty crest of a
white pine。 Into the forest in the west the sun was descending in
gorgeous robes of glory。 The treetops caught the yellow light； and
gleamed like the golden spires of some great and fabled city。
〃Oh； mamma； see that big pine top！ Doesn't it look like windows？〃
cried Hughie； pointing to one of the lofty pine crests through
which the sky quivered like molten gold。
〃And the streets of the city are pure gold；〃 said the mother；
softly。
〃Yes； I know；〃 said Hughie； confidently； for to him all the scenes
and stories of the Bible had long been familiar。 〃Is it like that；
mamma？〃
〃Much better； ever so much better than you can think。〃
〃Oh； mamma； I'm just awful hungry！〃
〃Come away； then； so am I。 What have you got； Jessie； for two very
hungry people？〃
〃Porridge and pancakes；〃 said Jessie； the minister's 〃girl；〃 who
not only ruled in the kitchen； but using the kitchen as a base；
controlled the interior economy of the manse。
〃Oh； goody！〃 yelled Hughie； 〃just what I like。〃 And from the
plates of porridge and the piles of pancakes that vanished from his
plate no one could doubt his word。
Their reading that night was about the city whose streets were of
pure gold； and after a little talk； Hughie and his baby brother
were tucked away safely for the night； and the mother sat down to
her never…ending task of making and mending。
The minister was away at Presbytery meeting in Montreal； and for
ten days his wife would stand in the breach。 Of course the elders
would take the meeting on the Sabbath day and on the Wednesday
evening； but for all other ministerial duties when the minister was
absent the congregation looked to the minister's wife。 And soon it
came that the sick and the sorrowing and the sin…burdened found in
the minister's wife such help and comfort and guidance as made the
absence of the minister seem no great trial after all。 Eight years
ago the minister had brought his wife from a home of gentle
culture； from a life of intellectual and artistic pursuits； and
from a circle of loving friends of which she was the pride and joy；
to this home in the forest。 There； isolated from all congenial
companionship with her own kind； deprived of all the luxuries and
of many of the comforts of her young days； and of the mental
stimulus of that contact of minds without which few can maintain
intellectual life； she gave herself without stint to her husband's
people； with never a thought of self…pity or self…praise。 By day
and by night she labored for her husband and family and for her
people； for she thought them hers。 She taught the women how to
adorn their rude homes； gathered them into Bible classes and sewing
circles； where she read and talked and wrought and prayed with them
till they grew to adore her as a saint； and to trust her as a
leader and friend； and to be a little like her。 And not the women
only； but the men； too； loved and trusted her； and the big boys
found it easier to talk to the minister's wife than to the minister
or to any of his session。 She made her own and her children's
clothes； collars； hats； and caps； her husband's shirts and
neckties； toiling late into the morning hours； and all without
frown or shadow of complaint； and indeed without suspicion that any
but the happiest lot was hers； or that she was； as her sisters
said； 〃just buried alive in the backwoods。〃 Not she！ She lived to
serve； and the where and how were not hers to determine。 So； with
bright face and brave heart； she met her days and faced the battle。
And scores of women and men are living better and braver lives
because they had her for their minister's wife。
But the day had been long； and the struggle with the March wind
pulls hard upon the strength； and outside the pines were crooning
softly； and gradually the brave head drooped till between the
stitches she fell asleep。 But not for many minutes； for a knock at
the kitchen door startled her； and before long she heard Jessie's
voice rise wrathful。
〃Indeed； I'll do no such thing。 This is no time to come to the
minister's house。〃
For answer there was a mumble of words。
〃Well； then； you can just wait unt