At times, his manifestations were fairly uproarious, and it became necessary to check them, or to send him further into the woods to relieve himself of his exuberant delight.
Harvey lingered upon the threshold, gazing dreamily away at the mildly-flowing river, or at the woods, through which for a considerable distance, he could trace the winding path which his own feet had worn.

Cora, his wife, stood beside him, looking smilingly down in his face, while her left hand toyed with a stray ringlet that would protrude itself from beneath her husband's cap.
"Cora, are you sorry that we came into this wild country ?" The smile on her face grew more radiant, as she shook her head without speaking.

She was in that pleasant, dreamy state, in which it seems an effort to speak--so much so that she avoided it until compelled to do so by some direct question.
"You are perfectly contented--happy, are you ?" Again the same smile, as she answered in the affirmative by an inclination of the head.
"You would not change it for a residence at home with your own people if you could ?" The same sweet denial in pantomime.
"Do you not become lonely sometimes, Cora, hundreds of miles away from the scenes of your childhood ?" "Have I not my husband and boy ?" she asked, half reproachfully, as the tears welled up in her eyes.

"Can I ask more ?" "I have feared sometimes, when I've been in the village, that perhaps you were lonely and sorrowful, and often I have hurried my footsteps that I might be with you a few moments sooner.

When preaching and talking to the Indians, my thoughts would wander away to you and the dear little fellow there.