"What you take for a forest is nothing but a few trees scattered about the plain."
"Isn't M. Sumichrast wrong in that, father?"
"No, my boy; but those who have more experience than you might well be mistaken, for when objects are seen at a distance they always seem to blend together in a group. This morning, for instance, when we were walking along the main road, you were always exclaiming that it ended in a point; but you were convinced that your eyes deceived you. It is just the same now: these trees appear to be farther apart in proportion as we approach them; and you will be quite surprised presently when you see how distant they are from each other. The same illusion is produced by the stars, which are millions of miles apart, and yet appear so thick in the sky, that your brother Emile was regretting, the other night, that he was not tall enough to grasp a handful of them."
"And don't forget," added Sumichrast, "that light and imagination often combine to deceive us."
"Just as in the fable of the 'Camels and the floating sticks.'"
"Bravo! my young scholar; you've heard that fable?"
"Yes. One evening I was going into a dimly-lighted room, and I fancied I saw a great gray man seated in a chair; I cried out, and ran away, afraid. Then papa took me by the hand and led me into the dark room again, and I found that the giant which had frightened me so much was nothing but a pair of trowsers, thrown over the back of an arm-chair. The next day mamma made me learn the fable of the 'Camels.'"
"At last, lagging a little, our party reached the foot of the mountains."