He knows so much about the woods, wild animals and birds
that I like to learn from him."
Midnight strode along the road, glad of the run in the fresh air. The
sleigh bells sent forth their sweet music, echoing and re-echoing from the
neighbouring hills and forest. Everything spoke of peace, and in Parson
John's heart dwelt a deeper peace, as he guided Midnight through the
gateway and reined her up before the Frenelle door.
Though he was somewhat early, others were earlier still, and a group of
men, hardy sons of toil, were standing near the house engaged in earnest
conversation. They had come a long distance, for an auction such as this
was a most unusual occurrence in Glendow. The Frenelle homestead had
belonged to the family from the early Loyalist days, descending from
father to son for several generations. Each had contributed something to
the improvement of the land, but it remained for Peter Frenelle, Stephen's
father, to bring it under an excellent state of cultivation. A
clear-headed, hard-working man, he had brought his scientific knowledge,
acquired by careful study, to bear upon the soil, until his broad, rich
acres, free from stone, became the envy and admiration of the parish.
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