Many a time when I have lain in the woods in the fall and smoked my pipe, and felt how good the tobacco was, and how bright the yellow maples were, and the purple ash, and the red tupelo blazing among the bushwood, I've felt that the real fool's talk was with the man who could doubt that all this was meant to make the world happier for us." "You've been thinking too much in them woods," said Ephraim Savage, gazing at him uneasily.

"Don't let your sail be too great for your boat, lad, nor trust to your own wisdom.

Your father was from the Bay, and you were raised from a stock that cast the dust of England from their feet rather than bow down to Baal.

Keep a grip on the word and don't think beyond it.

But what is the matter with the old man?
He don't seem easy in his mind." The old merchant had been leaning over the bulwarks, looking back with a drawn face and weary eyes at the red curving track behind them which marked the path to Paris.