"And not a bad one either," continued Becker; "but how? You are
welcome here to do the work for four--if you like; and then, supposing
you eat for two, I will be your debtor, not you mine."

"Work! and at what? walking about with a rifle on my shoulder; airing
myself, as I am doing now under your gallery, in the midst of flowers,
on the banks of a river: or opening my mouth for quails to jump down
my throat ready roasted--would you call that work?"

"Look there, Willis--what do you see?"

"A bear-skin."

"Well, suppose, by way of a beginning, I were to introduce you to a
fine live bear, with claws and tusks to match, ready to spring on you,
having as much right to your skin as you have to his--now, were I to
say to you, I want that animal's skin, to make a soft couch similar to
the one you see yonder, would you call that work?"

"Certainly, Mr. Becker."

"Very good, then; it is in the midst of such labors that we pass our
lives. Before we fell comfortably asleep on feather beds, those
formidable bones which you see in our museum were flying in the air;
the cup which I now hold in my hand was a portion of the clay on which
you sit; the canoe with which you ran away the other day was a live
seal; the hats that we wear, were running about the fields in the form
of angola rabbits. So with everything you see about you; for fifteen
years, excepting the Sabbath, which is our day of rest and recreation