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into a telephone post, was knocked unconscious, and thought he was on outpost duty."
Widely different as these uses of "post" seem to be, they are all de- rived from "positus",-placed.
Think it over-
A telephone post-is placed in the ground.
An outpost-is placed there by the commander.
A post in an office-is a pmce there.
Posting a ledger-is placing items therein.
Horses were posted-placed at in- tervals for rapid transit. A post of- fice used to make us of this means of transportation, and post haste shows the high esteem our grand- fathers had for the speed of this mode of travel.
Over the ice-capped peak:; and through the snow-clad valleys of the Canadian Rockies, ran twin lines of copper, carriers of light and sound ,:l::etween the diE.tant oity and this tiny outpost of civilization-a fore~t ranger's cabin. To preserve this link joining east and west was the duty of one man, John Brent, who, with his wife and family, lived on the lof.. ty summit of Mount Graham.
Their miniature habitation, stand- ing out bold and bare on the moun- tain's brow, commanded a ip:)rfec:t view for fifty mlies in every direc- tion. Brent's job demanded it. On him as well as his family, the only humans in that desert of ice and snow, depended the entire safety o£ t hat great division of Canada's wealth-her forests. But that was not all! Every week, despite the wea- ther, a three days' snowshoe tramp was made, following the endless line of poles, in search of broken wires.
"Dot, whatever's wrong with you? You seem restless tonight." remark- ed big John Brent to his pretty lit- tle wife.
They were sitting before th e cheery blaze of the huge fireplace which the cabin boasted. Dot, indeed did appear restless! She had carried, r;etted and bounced their only child, Robert Alexander, commonly called "the Kid", until that worthy young- st er really quite healthy, began to think he must indeed be ill to receive such care whereat Bobby howled lus- tily. Then it was that broad-should- ered John, with a C•heerful grin, took
the kid, and heaving him onto his back, galloped him off to bed. When Robert Alexander had been cozily tucked in for the night, John return- ed to his easy chair by the fire.
"Y es, Dot," he continu ed, "Y ou look Quite worried. What's wrong'!" "I don't know," she answered. "You
see, l'm always uneasy when you have to follow the wires-but it seems worse this time-The wolves have started to run," she added, "l saw one today."
"Oh, don't be foolish, Dot," he f,rid, rlacing hiR l::road hand over her small one," "What's one wolf'!
Anyway, I'll be all right on a bright day if a whole pack chases me-l can hold 'em off in daylight." He laughed none too steadily, a slight frown puckering his intelligent brow.
"But at night?" echoed Dot.
"Why, this loneliness must be get- ting you, kid. I shouldn't have a~k­ ed you to come way out here with me-l see it now," he paused- "But, as for wolves at night, don't you lmow they'll never come near a fire?"
Dot was not so sure. However cheerful her husband might be, she still feared those gaunt, hungry sneaks, which prowled the woods in the dead of winter, always ready to stalk the unfortunate or unwary prey.
Morning dawned bright and cheer- ful. The sun sparkled on the dazz- ling snow, as John Brent stood at his cabin door looking out over the sur- rounding mountains. A trackless ex- panse of glistening white, spread out
''THE GLEANER" 25
WHEN THE LIGHTS FLICKERED By Helen Lunan