In the winter the boy went
to school in the village of Bidwell and as he was even then an energetic,
pushing youth, already intent on getting on in the world, he set traps in
the forest and on the banks of streams and walked the trap line on his way
to and from school. In the spring he sent his pelts to the growing town of
Cleveland where they were sold. He spoke of the money he got and of how he
had finally saved enough to buy a horse of his own.
Tom had talked of many other things on that night, of the spelling-downs at
the schoolhouse in town, of huskings and dances held in the barns and of
the evening when he went skating on the river and first met his wife. "We
took to each other at once," he said softly. "There was a fire built on the
bank of the river and after I had skated with her we went and sat down to
warm ourselves.
"We wanted to get married to each other right away," he told Clara. "I
walked home with her after we got tired of skating, and after that I
thought of nothing but how to get my own farm and have a home of my own."
As the daughter sat in the motor listening to the shrill voice of the
father, who now talked only of the making of machines and money, that other
man talking softly in the moonlight as the horse jogged slowly along
the dark road seemed very far away. All such men seemed very far away.
"Everything worth while is very far away," she thought bitterly.
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