For the fool's judgment is a dog-vane that turns with a breath, and the cheat watches the clouds and sets his weathercock by them,--so that one shall often see by their pointing which way the winds of heaven are blowing, when the slow-wheeling arrows and feathers of what we call the Temples of Wisdom are turning to all points of the compass.
-- Amen!--said the young fellow called John--Ten minutes by the watch.
Those that are unanimous will please to signify by holding up their left foot! I looked this young man steadily in the face for about thirty seconds.
His countenance was as calm as that of a reposing infant.

I think it was simplicity, rather than mischief, with perhaps a youthful playfulness, that led him to this outbreak.

I have often noticed that even quiet horses, on a sharp November morning, when their coats are beginning to get the winter roughness, will give little sportive demi-kicks, with slight sudden elevation of the subsequent region of the body, and a sharp short whinny,--by no means intending to put their heels through the dasher, or to address the driver rudely, but feeling, to use a familiar word, frisky.

This, I think, is the physiological condition of the young person, John.

I noticed, however, what I should call a palpebral spasm, affecting the eyelid and muscles of one side, which, if it were intended for the facial gesture called a wink, might lead me to suspect a disposition to be satirical on his part.
-- Resuming the conversation, I remarked,--I am, ex officio, as a Professor, a conservative.