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Updated: May 24, 2025
Sleighter was fairly started on his subject and was not to be denied. The little girls drew shyly near him with eyes aglow while Mr. Sleighter's words roiled forth like a mountain flood. Eloquently he described the beauty of the rolling lands, the splendour of the mountains, the richness of the soil, the health-giving qualities of the climate, the warm-hearted hospitality of the settlers.
I got all that was comin' to me out of it, but here's this check. Perhaps you'll sign the receipt. I guess they been puttin' it over you all right. You're a little too soft with 'em." Mr. Gwynne was an even-tempered man, but Mr. Sleighter's patronising manner and his criticism of his business ability wrought in him a rage that he could with difficulty control.
Could they ride? How big are they?" "How big? Blamed if I know. Let's see. There's Tom. He's just about a man, or thinks he is. He's sixteen or seventeen. Just now he's in the high school at Winnipeg. He don't like it though." Here a shadow fell on Mr. Sleighter's face. "And the girls there's Hazel, she's fifteen, and Ethel Mary, she's eleven or somewhere thereabouts.
Sleighter's favourite theme. Indeed, the absorbing passion of his life, next to the picking up of good salvage bargains, was his home in the Foothill country of the West. While he was engaged in an enthusiastic description of the glories of that wonderland the children came in and were presented. Mr. Gwynne handed his visitor his receipt and stood suggestively awaiting his departure. But Mr.
"I have not seen her," said her father, "but I have heard her voice, and I quite agree with you. The voice always tells. Have you noticed that? The voice gives the keynote of the soul." "I don't know, Papa. There's Mrs. Sleighter's voice. I don't like it very much, but I think she's nice inside." "Ah, you are right, my dear.
Sleighter's, two girls in each room, and Tom's room is so tiny, and I don't think Larry would like to go in Tom's room. And we have two empty rooms, so we might just as well." "Yes, certainly, we might just as well. You might perhaps mention it to Anna." "Oh, I did, Papa, and she said she would have it all ready." "So it is all arranged. I was thinking but never mind."
Sleighter's methods with the easy-going debtors of the company in Mapleton and the surrounding district were of such galvanic vigour that even so practiced a procrastinator as Farmer Martin found himself actually drawing money from his hoarded bank account to pay his store debts a thing unheard of in that community and to meet overdue payments upon the various implements which he had purchased from the National Machine Company.
"What's land worth about here?" "Oh, somewhere about a hundred." "A hundred dollars an acre!" exclaimed Mr. Sleighter. "Don't try to put anything over on me. Personally I admire your generous, kindly nature, but as a financial adviser you don't shine. I guess I won't bother about that farm anyway." Mr. Sleighter's question awakened earnest thought in Mr.
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