years; and she built a hut for-us to live in till he came back. I was a
little lad then, but as soon as I was big enough she made me learn to
read and write, that I might send letters to him beyond the seas and none
of the neighbours know. She'd often make me read to her about a poor
fellow who had left home and gone to a far country, and when he came home
again, how his father saw him a long way off. Well, she was just like
that when she'd heard that he was landed in England; she did nought but
sit over the bent of the hill yonder, peering along the road to Botfield;
and one evening at sundown she saw something, little more than a speck
upon the turf, and she'd a feeling come over her that it was he, and she
fainted for real joy. After all, we weren't much happier when we were
settled down like. Grandfather had learned to tend sheep out yonder, and
I worked at Botfield; but we never laid by money to build a brick house,
as poor mother always wanted us. She died a month or so afore I was
married to your mother.'

James Fern was silent again for some minutes, leaning back upon his
pillow, with his eyes closed, and his thoughts gone back to the old
times.

'If I'd only been like mother, you'd have been a hill-farmer now, Steve,'
he continued, in a tone of regret; 'she plotted out in her own mind to
take in the green before us, for rearing young lambs, and ducks, and
goslings. But I was like that poor lad that wasted all his substance in
riotous living; and I've let thee and thy sister grow up without even the
learning I could have given thee; and learning is light carriage. But,
lad, remember this house is thy own, and never part with it; never give
it up, for it is thy right. Maybe they'll want to turn thee out, because
thee art a boy; but I've lived in it nigh upon forty years, and I've
written it all down upon this piece of paper, and that the place is