"My, I'm glad to be back," and Jess gave a deep sigh of contentment. "I never saw the fields look so pretty, nor the trees such a wonderful variety of green. I missed all that at the Seminary. That beautiful maple over there in front of Mr. Sanders' house seems to have grown since I went away."
"H'm," Abner grunted, "Joe should cut that down; it hides the view."
"Oh, daddy, don't say that. Just think what such a tree means. There is so much in it."
"Y'bet there is; more'n a cord of good firewood."
"I don't mean that, daddy. I wasn't thinking of the wood, but of the beauty of form and color on golden, summer days, and the mystic music when the wind is rushing through its branches."
"Oh, it's them things ye'r thinkin' of. Well, mebbe ye'r right. But a piece of good dry maple in our old stove on a cold day in winter gives all the poetry an' music I want. Guess ye've been studyin' sich things at the Seminary, eh?"
"For a time we did. But this last term most of us were greatly interested in Social Service studies."
"Ye don't tell! What's that, anyway? A new kind of religion or prayer-meetin', eh?"
"Oh, no," and Jess laughed merrily. "It is merely social reform, that is, efforts to lessen and remove existing evils."
"Well, that's interestin'. Pretty big problem, I should say; almost as hard as clearin' a dog's hide of fleas."