John Anderson, my jo.  As the sun was setting there was a shout of ‘Auntie,’ and the youngsters bounded down the long lane to meet a sleigh that was dragging its way through snow as high as the box.  Auntie was Archie’s sister—­like him yet unlike, the same features of softer mould, lighted up with merry smiles that told of a happy heart.  And there were children with her, and her husband, a stout hearty man with a loud voice.  Sleigh after sleigh drove up the lane, each hailed with shouting and laughter, for each one brought not only the elders of the household but their children.  What a shaking of hands and interchange of good wishes there was, and then came supper.  There were over fifty guests, but there was ample preparation in the big back kitchen, where supper was served.  When all had enough, including the dogs and Maisie’s pussies, the older folk moved to the front room.  In a jiffy dishes and temporary tables disappeared in that big back kitchen, and the youngsters began their games.  By-and-by a fiddle was heard, and I am afraid there was dancing.  We had a happy evening.  Two-handed cracks, stories, jokes, songs, made the time pass too quickly.  It was a novelty to me that all the guests were either Irish or English; fine people, intelligent, wide-awake as to the necessity of advancing and making improvements.  Plates of apples and fruit cake appearing notified the time for parting had come, and in more than one mother’s arms rested a little one who had crept in from the big kitchen too sleepy to remain longer.  In shaking hands with my new-found acquaintances, they all pled with me to pay them a visit.  Before I fell asleep, I thought of what a fine yeomanry dwelt in the settlement, and the misfortune it would be if, by any legislative mis-step, they were constrained to leave the farm.

Next morning I had, of course, to visit the stables and see the live-stock, and to judge as far as was possible, with two feet of snow resting upon it, of the farm and its surroundings.  Every detail told of a capable and energetic farmer, who knew a good horse and the best use that could be made of pig and cow.  There were no loose ends, everything was in its place and in the best of order.  The hour I was left alone with Archie’s father and mother was as refreshing as a breeze from Scotia’s heath-clad hills.  On asking grannie whether Mirren and Archie were her only children she answered, ’There are two biding with the Lord.’  After listening to what they told me of how they came to Canada, of what Mirren and Archie had done for them, my heart swelled in thanking God that filial piety still cast luster on humanity.  After an early dinner I left and reached Allan’s in time to share in the after-feast of the fragments of Christmas good things.  Many a visit I have since that day paid to Archie, and many he has to me.  It may be that neither of us having a brother we crept so close together that we are supremely happy in each others company even if we utter not a word.