They are like altars." "The fault I find with the woods in winter," observed Grace, "is that there is nothing to do in them, no birds and beasts to make things lively, no flowers to pick, no brooks to wade in.

Just an everlasting stillness." "I admit there's not much social life," replied Tom.

"The inhabitants either go to sleep or fly south, most of them.

But don't forget the rabbits and squirrels and----" "And an occasional bear," interrupted Reddy.

"They have been seen in these parts." "Worse than bears," said Hippy.