"Dead Trees Love the Fire" 159 



for granted by these good friends of mine that 

 this is so self-evident as to require no argu- 

 ment. The man who wants to earn bread and 

 butter for his family must work in the city. 

 Yet all these years I have retained a sneaking 

 fondness for the belief that years of work in an 

 apple orchard might not result disastrously for 

 me or mine. I recall the fact that during those 

 three months I was never better in health, that 

 I never took greater pleasure in my books and 

 papers, that I never looked upon life with 

 more satisfaction. And this accidental taste 

 of country life at a profit of a dollar or two a 

 day, a small sum as compared to my city earn- 

 ings, had great influence in my determination 

 to cut loose from the city for a large part of 

 the year. 



To come back to the Great South Bay it was 

 as smooth as a mill-pond as we made sail for our 

 headland, looming up cool and shady to the 

 eastward. The water was so clear beneath us 

 that each patch of oysters could be distinguished 

 on the bottom. Our friend M., whom we had 

 along with us, and to whom I sang the praises 



