"Where are you going to buy new clothes, Jim?"
"That is something of a difficulty. I was talking about the principle. You're too practical."
"Oh, well," said Carrie, "I suppose I'm not romantic. Unless you're romantic in the right way, you're ridiculous. I expect it's easier to be useful."
"Jim will agree," Jake remarked. "He judges people by their talent for doing things, but you can't fix a standard for everybody. He reckons I do too little; I allow he does too much."
He stopped and looked about. There was something oppressive in the heavy calm. The smoke went straight up and the pine twigs did not move. For a minute or two he waited with a feeling of tension and the others were silent. Then the pine tops shook and were still again. Jim got up abruptly.
"That draught's not from the east!"
Jake struck a match. The flame burned upright, and then flickered and slanted.
"No," he said, "it's blowing up the valley."
The flame went out, the pine-tops shook and did not stop. The air got hot and a smell of burning stole into the camp.
"I reckon it's a Chinook," Jake remarked.