"Dead Trees Love the Fire" 157 



bye to the money-makers and keep on down to 

 the bay. There is but little breeze stirring, 

 scarcely enough to send us along. Neverthe- 

 less, up goes the sail, the children throwing 

 aboard their baskets and bags containing the 

 luncheon, and we cast off, prepared for a good 

 day's outing. 



It sometimes occurs to me whether there 

 may not be such a thing as the cultivation of 

 idleness whether the love of idleness does not 

 grow by idleness. Many people have told me 

 that the normal man needs to work in order to 

 be healthy and happy, and by work they mean 

 money-making of some kind. This giving a 

 whole day to going after a quarter of a cord of 

 pine knots would be looked upon as a peculiarly 

 vicious idleness because of the specious attempt 

 to dissimulate. I remember many years ago, 

 when quite a young man, that chance threw 

 me out of business for several months, and as 

 it happened I employed most of my time in 

 stripping a superb orchard of its apples and 

 barrelling them for sale in the city. I forget 

 exactly what the venture netted me in money. 

 The apples were going to waste and I invested 



