When they had finished the Philosopher praised the gods, and then said, more to himself than to the boy:
“If I had a little drink of water I would want nothing else.”
“There is a stream four paces from here,” said his companion. “I will get some water in my cap,” and he leaped away.
In a few moments he came back holding his cap tenderly, and the Philosopher took this and drank the water.
“I want nothing more in the world,” said he, “except to talk with you. The sun is shining, the wind is pleasant, and the grass is soft. Sit down beside me again for a little time.”
So the boy sat down, and the Philosopher lit his pipe.
“Do you live far from here?” said he.
“Not far,” said the boy. “You could see my mother’s house from this place if you were as tall as a tree, and even from the ground you can see a shape of smoke yonder that floats over our cottage.”
The Philosopher looked but could see nothing.
“My eyes are not as good as yours are,” said he, “because I am getting old.”