“Nor chop?”
“No. I’ve got a plenty to learn—haven’t I?”
“I should think you had.”
They were a long time getting up the things; but when they were all up, Charles said to his mother, “Can John and I go over to the White Bull?”
“Yes; and when it is time to come back I’ll blow the horn for you.”
They had taken supper early; and as Uncle Isaac said he had as “lieves” go over in the evening as at any time, it being bright starlight, she did not blow the horn till dark.
“Look there,” said Sally, pointing to the shore, soon after she had blown the horn. The boys were returning with their arms over each other’s neck.
“I’m so glad they take to one another,” said she. “John thinks it’s the greatest happiness of life to come over here; we are as glad to see him as he is to come; and, if he likes Charlie, he’ll want to come more than ever; won’t they have good times!”
“Uncle Isaac,” said John, as they were rowing home, “don’t you love to be out on the water in the night among the stars?”
“Yes, I do, John; and I like to go along the edge of thick woods, when there’s a bright moon, and watch the shadow on the water. But I think the best of all is, to go in a birch,—they don’t make any noise, and there’s no splashing of oars; but they go along just like a bird, and they float in so little water that you can go along the very edge of the beach, and listen to the noise of the water on the rocks, and the little breath of wind among the trees. I think I have the best thoughts then I ever have; I feel solemn, but I feel happy, too. I think sometimes, if ministers could be in some of the places, and have some of the feelings we ignorant people have, and we could have some of their learning to go with our feelings, it would be better for both. I am not a good man; but I have often kneeled down in the woods, in the moonlight, hundreds of miles from any house, in the trackless forest, and prayed to God, and it has done me good.”