He knew, too, that it added to the bitterness in his father's heart to know that, in the spring's work that every warm day was bringing nearer, he could take no part; and that was partly the cause of Ranald's gloom.

With the slow-moving oxen, he could hardly hope to get the seed in in time, and they needed the crop this year if ever they did, for last year's interest on the mortgage was still unpaid and the next installment was nearly due.
As he was putting the finishing touches upon Lisette's satin skin, Yankee drove up to the yard with his Fox horse and buckboard.

His box was strapped on behind, and his blankets, rolled up in a bundle, filled the seat beside him.
"Mornin'," he called to Ranald.

"Purty fine shine, that, and purty fine mare, all round," he continued, walking about Lisette and noting admiringly her beautiful proportions.
"Purty fine beast," he said, in a low tone, running his hands down her legs.

"Guess you wouldn't care to part with that mare ?" "No," said Ranald, shortly; but as he spoke his heart sank within him.
"Ought to fetch a fairly good figure," continued Yankee, meditatively.
"Le's see.