CHAPTER V.
"I say, Elizabeth, you're not going to sit out there all day, and get your death of cold?
Why don't you come in and read a novel like a sensible woman ?" "Because I can read a novel at home--and I can't see Canada." "See Canada! What is there to see ?" The youth with the scornful voice came to lean against the doorway beside her.

"A patch of corn--miles and miles of some withered stuff that calls itself grass, all of it as flat as your hand--oh! and, by Jove! a little brown fellow--gopher, is that their silly name ?--scootling along the line.

Go it, young 'un!" Philip shied the round end of a biscuit tin after the disappearing brown thing.
"A boggy lake with a kind of salt fringe--unhealthy and horrid and beastly--a wretched farm building--et cetera, et cetera!" "Oh! look there, Philip--here is a school!" Elizabeth bent forward eagerly.

On the bare prairie stood a small white house, like the house that children draw on their slates: a chimney in the middle, a door, a window on either side.

Outside, about twenty children playing and dancing.