If Admiral Darling smiled, it was to the landscape and the offing, for he knew that Stubbard was of rather touchy fibre, and relished no jokes unless of home production.

His slow, solid face was enough to show this, and the squareness of his outline, and the forward thrust of his knees as he walked, and the larkspur impress of his lingering heels.

And he seldom said much, without something to say.
"Well," cried the Admiral, growing tired of sitting so long upon a fallen trunk, "what conclusion do you feel inclined to come to?
'Tis a fine breezy place to clear the brain, and a briny air to sharpen the judgment." "Only one tree need come down--this crooked one at the southeast corner." Captain Stubbard began to swing his arms about, like a windmill uncertain of the wind.

"All gentlemen hate to have a tree cut down, all blackguards delight in the process.

Admiral, we will not hurt your trees.