"——And yours?"—this to Sam, who was dreamily caressing his turned-up nose.
"Samuel Adolphus Potts—guv'ner."
They handed over their entry fees and, after a record of the location of the land had been duly made, turned and left the cabin.
With new bubbly feelings in their respective young hearts, they descended to the dreary steerage deck. Sam glanced disdainfully at the watery waste surrounding them. It still rained dismally. After spitting in the ocean once or twice, he said, meditatively:
"A 'undred an' sixty blinkin' acres of land's a lot, ain't it, Bert?"
"A half-mile square. Why?"
"Oh, nothink. I feel too prahd ter speak."
Bert laughed and strolled away.
"Hey!" Sam called to him. "If you 'appen ter see my man abaht anywhere, tell 'im I want 'im at once, will yer?"
NOTE.—Although sounding far-fetched, scores of Barr Colonists picked their homesteads from a map in Barr's office aboard the S.S. Lake Manitoba in mid-Atlantic. A few of them are still living on those same farms to-day.—H. P.