"Yes, you are!" grinned Peter, knowing full well how little importance to attach to that speech; "inside of a week, you'll be crazy about it."
"I am now," said Blair, slowly. "Most weird sight I ever saw. The rocks seem like sentient giants ready to eat each other. Termagant Nature, unleashed and rampant."
"Idea all right," said Crane, lazily, "but your verbiage isn't hand-picked, seems to me."
"You can put it more poetically, if you like, but it's the thing itself that gets me, not the sand-papered description of it."
"Nobody wants you to sand-paper it, but you ought to hew to the line a little more nearly——"
"Lines be bothered! Free verse is the thing for this place!"
"I want free verse and I want fresh air," bantered Peter, "and Lasca, down by the Brandywine,—or wherever it was that Friend Lasca hung out."
"You're harking back to your school days and Friday afternoon declamation," put in Shelby, "and Lasca was down by the Rio Grande."
"Only Alaska isn't down there at all," Blair informed them, quite seriously, and the others roared.