Notwithstanding his renunciation of London, however, there would now and
then come upon him a yearning for the big city, and he promised himself a
trip there at the end of the third year. Wentworth had been threatening
month after month to come out and see him, but something had always
interfered.
Taking it all in all, John liked it better in the winter than in the
summer, in spite of the extreme cold. The cold was steady and could be
depended upon; moreover, it was healthful and invigorating. In summer,
John never quite became accustomed to the ravages of the black fly, the
mosquito, and other insect pests of that region. His first interview with
the black fly left his face in such a condition that he was glad he lived
in a wilderness.
At the beginning of the second winter John treated himself to a luxury.
He bought a natty little French Canadian horse that was very quick and
accustomed to the ice of the river, which formed the highway by which he
reached Burntpine from the mine in the cold season. To supplement the
horse, he also got a comfortable little cutter, and with this turn-out
he made his frequent journeys between the mine and Burntpine with comfort
and speed, wrapped snugly in buffalo robes.
If London often reverted to his mind, there was another subject that
obtruded itself even more frequently. His increased prosperity had
something to do with this. He saw that, if he was to have a third of the
receipts of the mine, he was not to remain a poor man for very long, and
this fact gave him a certain courage which had been lacking before.
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