the ground, and they had settled and dried, they were no better. The
bridges were rough, wooden affairs, covered with logs, usually flattened
on one side with an axe. The swamps and marshes were made passable by
laying down logs, of nearly equal size, close together in the worst
places. These were known as corduroy roads, and were no pleasant
highways to ride over for any distance, as all who have tried them know.
But in the winter the frost and snow made good traveling everywhere, and
hence the winter was the time for the farmer to do his teaming.

One of the first things that claimed attention when the sleighing began,
and before the snow got deep in the woods, was to get out the year's
supply of fuel. The men set out for the bush before it was fairly
daylight, and commenced chopping. The trees were cut in lengths of about
ten feet, and the brush piled in heaps. Then my father, or myself, when
I got old enough, followed with the sleigh, and began drawing it, until
the wood yard was filled with sound beech and maple, with a few loads of
dry pine for kindling. These huge wood-piles always bore a thrifty
appearance, and spoke of comfort and good cheer within.

Just before Christmas there was always one or two beef cattle to kill.
Sheep had also to be slaughtered, with the turkeys, geese and ducks,
which had been getting ready for decapitation. After home wants were
provided for, the rest were sent to market.

The winter's work now began in earnest, for whatever may be said about
the enjoyment of Canadian winter life--and it is an enjoyable time to
the Canadian--there are few who really enjoy it so much as the farmer.
He cannot, however, do like bruin--roll himself up in the fall, and suck
his paw until spring in a state of semi-unconsciousness, for his cares
are numerous and imperious, his work varied and laborious. His large