rounded outward and downward with an iron fringe where particles of the
metal had been forced from place. The huge hook at the end of the log
chain was twisted all awry, though no less firm its grip. The fence,
the implements and all about showed mighty work, something of mind, but
more of muscle.

Most perfect of all tonics is physical, out-door labor, particularly in
the forest, and it is as well for mind as body. It eliminates what may
be morbid, and is healthful for a conscience. Why it is that, under
most natural conditions which may exist, the conscience is not so
nervously acute, is something for the theologians to decide,--they will
decide anything,--but the fact remains. The out-door conscience is
strong, but seldom retrospective.

Grant Harlson swung his maul and delighted in what was about him, and
breathed the crisp October air, scented with the spice bushes he cut to
clear the way, and pondered less and less upon the puzzles of the
Hindoo king. His mood was all robust, and when he visited the town he
was a wonder to Mrs. Rolfston, who was infatuated with the savagery of
his wooing and madly discontent with the certainty that she must lose
him. She made wild propositions, which he laughed at. She would
remove to the city; she would do many things. He said only that the
present was good, and that she was fair to look upon. And from her he
would go to his other sweetheart, the great maul, and be faithful for
six days of the seven. He did not work as late of afternoons now. He
was enjoying life again in the old healthful, boyish way.

He had a friend from town with him, too--a setter, with Titian hair and
big eyes, which slept on the clover beside him, and an afternoon or two
a week he would take dog and gun and go where the ruffed grouse were or