IN WHICH DAVID TAKES LITTLE HOYLE TO CANADA

“David,” said his wife next day, as he came whistling up to his cabin from the farm below, “do you mind if I give mother a little help with the weaving? Mattie can’t do it. She’s right nigh spoiled the counterpane we had on when she came, and since mother’s hurt, she can’t work the treadles, so now the hotel’s open Miss Mayhew may come and find them not half done.”

“Do I mind? Why should I mind, if you don’t ‘right nigh’ spoil your back and wear yourself out?”

“Then I’ll go down with you after dinner and see can I patch up Mattie’s mistakes. It takes so much patience — a loom does, to understand it.”