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stream a mill race； tapping the river； led the water to an 〃overshot
wheel〃 in the early days； later to a turbine； thus creating the
power necessary to drive the mill machinery。 When the saw was still
the water overflowed the 〃stop…logs〃 by the 〃spillway〃 into the pond
below。
But that mill race furnished more than power to the mill。 It
furnished besides much colourful romance to the life of the village
youth of those early days。 For down the mill race they ran their
racing craft； jostling and screaming； urging with long poles their
laggard flotillas to victory。 The pond by the mill was to the boys
〃swimming hole〃 and fishing pool； where； during the long summer
evenings and through the sunny summer days； they spent amphibious
hours in high and serene content。 But in springtime when the pond
was black with floating logs it became the scene of thrilling deeds
of daring。 For thither came the lumber…jacks； fresh from 〃the
shanties；〃 in their dashing； multi…colored garb； to 〃show off〃
before admiring friends and sweethearts their skill in 〃log…
running〃 and 〃log…rolling〃 contests which as the spirit of venture
grew would end like as not in the icy waters of the pond。
Here； too； on brilliant winter days the life of the village found
its centre of vivid interest and activity。 For then the pond would
be a black and glittering surface whereon wheeled and curved the
ringing； gleaming blades of 〃fancy〃 skaters or whereon in sterner
hours opposing 〃shinny〃 teams sought glory in Homeric and often
gory contest。
But those days and those scenes were now long since gone。 The old
mill stood a picturesque ruin； the water wheel had given place to
the steam engine； the pond had shrunk to an insignificant pool
where only pollywogs and minnows passed unadventurous lives； the
mill race had dwindled to a trickling stream grown thick with
watercress and yellow lilies； and what had once been the centre of
vigorous and romantic life was now a back water eddy devoid alike
of movement and of colour。
A single bit of life remainedthe little log cottage； once the
Manager's house a quarter of a century ago； still stood away up
among the pines behind the old mill ruin and remote from the
streets and homes of the present town。 At the end of a little
grassy lane it stood； solid and square； resisting with its well
hewn pinelogs the gnawing tooth of time。 Abandoned by the growing
town； forgotten by the mill owner； it was re…discovered by Malcolm
McNish； or rather by his keen eyed old mother on their arrival from
the old land six months ago。 For a song McNish bought the solid
little cottage； he might have had it as a gift but that he would
not； restored its roof； cleared out its stone chimney which； more
than anything else； had caught the mother's eye； re…set the window
panes； added a wee cunning porch； gave its facings a coat of paint；
enclosed its bit of flower garden in front and its 〃kale yaird〃 in
the rear with a rustic paling； and made it； when the Summer had
done its work； a bonnie homelike spot which caught the eye and held
the heart of the passer…by。
The interior more than fulfilled the promise of the exterior。 The
big living room with its great stone fireplace welcomed you on
opening the porch door。 From the living room on the right led two
doors； each giving entrance to a tiny bedroom and flanking a larger
room known as 〃the Room。〃
Within the living room were gathered the household treasures； the
Lares and Penates of the little stone rose…covered cottage 〃at hame
awa' ayont the sea。〃 On the mantel a solid hewn log of oak； a
miracle of broad…axe work； were 〃bits o' chiny〃 rarely valuable as
antiques to the knowing connoisseur but beyond price to the old
white…haired lady who daily dusted them with reverent care as
having been borne by her mother from the Highland home in the far
north country when as a bride she came by the 〃cadger's cairt〃 to
her new home in the lonely city of Glasgow。 Of that Glasgow home
and of her own home later the walls of the log cottage were
eloquent。
The character giving bit of furniture； however； in the living room
was a book…case that stood in a corner。 Its beautiful inlaid
cabinet work would in itself have attracted attention； but not the
case but the books were its distinction。 The great English poets
were represented there in serviceable bindings showing signs of
use； Shakespeare； Wordsworth； Coleridge； Browning； Keats； and with
them in various editions； Burns。 Beside the poets Robert Louis had
a place； and Sir Walter； as well as Kipling and Meredith and other
moderns。 But on the shelf that showed most wear were to be found
the standard works of economists of different schools from the
great Adam Smith to Marx and the lot of his imitators and disciples。
This was Malcolm's book…case。 There was in another corner near the
fire…place a little table and above it hung a couple of shelves for
books of another sort； the Bible and The Westminster Confession；
Bunyan and Baxter and Fox's Book of Martyrs； Rutherford and McCheyne
and Law； The Ten Years' Conflict； Spurgeon's Sermons and Smith's
Isaiah； and a well worn copy of the immortal Robbie。 This was the
mother's corner； a cosy spot where she nourished her soul by
converse with the great masters of thought and of conscience。
In this 〃cosy wee hoosie〃 Malcolm McNish and his mother passed
their quiet evenings； for the days were given to toil； in talk； not
to say discussion of the problems； the rights and wrongs of the
working man。 They agreed in much； they differed； and strongly； in
point of view。 The mother was all for reform of wrongs with the
existing economic system； reverencing the great Adam Smith。 The
son was for a new deal； a new system； the Socialistic； with
modifications all his own。 All； or almost all； that Malcolm had
read the mother had read with the exception of Marx。 She 〃cudna
thole yon godless loon〃 or his theories or his works。 Malcolm had
grown somewhat sick of Marx since the war。 Indeed； the war had
seriously disturbed the foundations of Malcolm's economic faith；
and he was seeking a readjustment of his opinion and convictions；
which were rather at loose ends。 In this state of mind he found
little comfort from his shrewd old mother。
〃Y'e have nae anchor； laddie； and ilka woof of air and ilka turn o'
the tide and awa' ye go。〃
As for her anchor； she made no bones of announcing that she had
been brought up on the Shorter Catechism and the Confession and in
consequence found a place for every theory of hers； Social and
Economic as well as Ethical and Religious； within the four corners
of the mighty fabric of the Calvinistic system of Philosophy and
Faith。
One of the keen joys of her life since coming to the new country
she found in her discussions with the Rev。 Murdo Matheson； whom；
after some considerable hesitation； she had finally chosen to 〃sit
under。〃 The Rev。 Murdo's theology was a little narrow for her。
She had been trained in the schools of the Higher Critics of the
Free Kirk leaders at home。 She talked familiarly of George Adam
Smith； whom she affectionately designated as 〃George Adam。〃 She
would wax