Having brushed his clothes, the young man came, with smiling composure, through the forest, the yellow dog waggling at his heels.
"I've read so much about breaking the news gently," apologized Philip, smiling, "that I thought I'd better try a bit of it myself.

Hence the sylvan note.

Ras, if you go to sleep by that tree, I'll like as not let you sleep there until you die.

Go back to camp and build a fire and hollow out the feathered biped." Ras slouched obediently off toward the hay-camp.
"You've hay in your ears!" exclaimed Diane, biting her lips.
"I'm a nomad!" announced Philip calmly.

"So's Erastus--so's Dick Whittington here.