134 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



woods. It was a scene upon which one 

 would think no thought of sin could 

 enter. We were talking with old 

 Phelps, the guide. Old Phelps is at 

 once guide, philosopher, and friend. He 

 knows the woods and streams and moun 

 tains, and their savage inhabitants, as 

 well as we know all our rich relations, 

 and what they are doing ; and, in lonely 

 bear-hunts and sable-trappings, he has 

 thought out and solved most of the 

 problems of life. As he stands in his 

 wood-gear, he is as grizzly as an old cedar- 

 tree ; and he speaks in a high falsetto 

 voice, which would be invaluable to a 

 boatswain in a storm at sea. 



We had been talking of all subjects 

 about which rational men are interest 

 ed, bears, panthers, trapping, the hab 

 its of trout, the tariff, the internal revenue 

 (to wit, the injustice of laying such a tax 

 on tobacco, and none on dogs : &quot; There 



