on her resources, but Madame always made the most graceful speeches in reply to their objections. Of course an undertaking such as this required capital to start it. It would be foolish to starve the whole project for want of a little expenditure now. By and by they would be self-supporting, but in order to reach that stage quickly they must not be stingy now. So she gave her dollars by the hundred when needed, and the brethren were eternally grateful and privately wondered if there was any limit to her wealth and generosity. At the Assembly it would be debated whether the next load of timber that was bought should go to building a hen-house for Brother Carpenter or to putting up a cattle-shed for Brother Ezra, and it speaks well for the honest conviction of the Pioneers that it was usually Brother Ezra who argued in favour of the hen-house, while Brother Carpenter expressed an anxious desire for the cattle-shed. The difficulty would perhaps be settled by Madame desiring to know how much timber was required for both buildings and deciding to buy that amount at the earliest opportunity. At this particular Assembly to which we refer, Ezra was several times on the point of saying that he wished to get a pony for his wife, but his heart failed him. He knew he did want the pony very much, but he also knew that it was not really wanted for the Community. So he could not bring himself to give utterance to the individualistic wish, and after arranging the necessary business of the Community, he came home with his wish unstated. Olive was waiting for him with the greatest impatience. She went, indeed, as far as the bars to meet him, but the road looked so lonesome and the sky so black with cold trembling specks of stars, that she ran back again in a flutter of panic to the house and shut herself in with the candles for company. At last he came back, and Olive poured forth the pent-up torrent of her news. Ezra was much amused at her description of the disaster and interested in her account of the rescuer. “And I am so vexed,” said Olive, “I can’t for the life of me remember what he said his name was. I know I never heard it before, but he lives here on the prairie. It is so silly!” “Call him Perseus,” said Ezra laughing, “he was the gallant who came to the rescue of distressed damsels.” “What a good joke!” said Olive gleefully, “and I was a distressed damsel, I assure you. I cried with vexation.” “I have no doubt that Andromeda shed tears when she was bound to the rock,” said Ezra, amused. “And I was bound to that odious saddle by the bonds of duty,” said Olive. “What a joke! Mr. Perseus!” So they laughed and chatted, and Olive was as bright as possible, and Ezra thought again with a pang of that pony and almost wished he had spoken at the Assembly about it. Olive, however, never mentioned what Mr. Perseus had said about the pony Mills had for sale. The idea seemed to have passed from her mind.