Then he remembered, and stopped.

He would not add to his brother's bitterness by an exhibition of his mighty, unshaken strength.

He stuck the ax into the log, and standing up, looked over the brule.

"It is a fine bit of ground, Hugh, and will raise a good crop of potatoes." "Aye," said Macdonald Dubh, sadly.

"It has lain like this for three years, and ought to have been cleared long ago, if I had been doing my duty." "Indeed, it will burn all the better for that," said his brother, cheerfully.