“With all my heart.” My teeth were chattering with the cold, and the children were crying over their aching fingers at the bottom of the sleigh. A few minutes' ride brought us to a large farm-house, surrounded by commodious sheds and barns. A fine orchard opposite, and a yard well stocked with fat cattle and sheep, sleek geese, and plethoric-looking swine, gave promise of a land of abundance and comfort. My brother ran into the house to see if the owner was at home, and presently returned, accompanied by the staunch Canadian yeoman and his daughter, who gave us a truly hearty welcome, and assisted in removing the children from the sleigh to the cheerful fire, that made all bright and cozy within. Our host was a shrewd, humorous-looking Yorkshireman. His red, weather beaten face, and tall, athletic, figure, bent as it was with hard labour, gave indications of great personal strength; and a certain knowing twinkle in his small, clear gray eyes, which had been acquired by long dealing with the world, with a quiet, sarcastic smile that lurked round the corners of his large mouth, gave you the idea of a man who could not easily be deceived by his fellows; one who, though no rogue himself, was quick in detecting the roguery of others. His manners were frank and easy, and he was such a hospitable entertainer that you felt at home with him in a minute. “Well, how are you, Mr. S----?” cried the farmer, shaking my brother heartily by the hand. “Toiling in the bush still, eh?” “Just in the same place.” “And the wife and children?” “Hearty. Some half-dozen have been added to the flock since you were our way.” “So much the better--so much the better. The more the merrier, Mr. S----; children are riches in this country.” “I know not how that may be; I find it hard to clothe and feed mine.” “Wait till they grow up; they will be brave helps to you then. The price of labour--the price of labour, Mr. S----, is the destruction of the farmer.” “It does not seem to trouble you much, Woodruff” said my brother, glancing round the well-furnished apartment. “My son and S---- do it all,” cried the old man. “Of course the girls help in busy times, and take care of the dairy, and we hire occasionally; but small as the sum is which is expended in wages during seed-time and harvest, I feel it, I can tell you.” “You are married again, Woodruff?” “No, sir,” said the farmer, with a peculiar smile; “not yet;” which seemed to imply the probability of such an event. “That tall gal is my eldest daughter; she manages the house, and an excellent housekeeper she is. But I cannot keep her for ever.” With a knowing wink. “Gals will think of getting married, and seldom consult the wishes of their parents upon the subject when once they have taken the notion into their heads. But 'tis natural, Mr. S----, it is natural; we did just the same when we were young.”