Verse like that is a good test of a person's capacity to feel poetry--that kind, I mean." "I hear Uncle Jim's horse." "Yes.

I can't see, John, why a man should want to have a horse sent to meet him instead of a comfortable wagon,"-- and for emphasis, as usual with Rivers, the rocking-chair was swinging to the limits of its arc of safe motion.
The Squire dismounted and came up the steps with "Good-evening, Rivers,"-- and to John, "I have good news for you--but order my supper at once, then we will talk." He was in his boyish mood of gaiety.

"How far have you travelled on that rocker, Rivers ?" "Now, Squire--now, really--" It was a favourite subject of chaff.
"Why not have rocking-chairs in church, Mark?
Think what a patient congregation you would have! Come, John, I am hungry." He fled laughing.
While the Squire ate in silence, John waited until his uncle said, "Come into the library." Here he filled his pipe and took the match John offered.

"There are many curious varieties of man, John.

There is the man who prefers a rocking-chair to the saddle.