Potter bent upon the boy a look of contemplation, and addressing himself more than his companion, said: "Ah, young man, you do not know the force of your own philosophy. From the woods there often come the simple words of truest wisdom. Any tie of life that holds us to someone, although at times its straining may fall little short of agony, is better far than slip-shod freedom from responsibilty."
"You talk like er preacher," said the boy. "Air you one?"
"No. As I told you, I am not anything, except a tramp. I used to be a sort of lawyer, but my neglect of law texts and love for other books drove my clients away. What's that noise?"
"It's the dinner ho'n, an' I ain't sorry ter hear it, nuther. Won't you come ter the house, an' take pot-luck with us? Ain't fur. See," he added; "its right over yander on the hill."
"I will go with you, John, for to tell the truth, I am as hungry as a bear. Wait a moment until I get my carpet-bag. There is nothing in it but a shirt and a few old books—nothing in it to eat, I well know."
When they reached the stable, Potter climbed up into the loft, to throw down some corn and fodder, while John was taking the gear off of the horse.
"Now we'll go ter the house," said John, when Potter had come down, "but ez we walk erlong lemme tell you suthin'. No matter whut Aunt Liz says, don't pay no ertention to her. Mebbe she won't say nuthin' much, but ef she's on one uv her tantrums, ez Uncle Jeff calls 'em, she's mighty ap' ter make you bat yo' eyes like dust wuz er-blowin' yo' way, but keep on er battin' an' don't say nuthin'. You mout think that she is the audationist woman you ever seed, an' it mout 'pear like she's goin' ter eat you bodatiously up, but ez I said befo' keep on e' battin' an' don't say nuthin'!"
Just as they were entering the yard, a woman's shrill voice cried out: "My stairs, John, who on the top uv the yeth have you picked up this time? Wall, ef he ain't er sight fur ter see I wish I may never stir agin."
"Keep on er battin'," John whispered.