"Good Spanish! Buy your _Caesars_ and your _Pompeys_, and when you are a lawyer like Mr.
Jefferson, come West--come West!" Men and beasts slumbered through the autumn night, waked at dawn, and, breakfast eaten, took again the road.

Revolving cask, horses, dogs, and men, they crossed the wet sedge and entered the pine wood, left that behind and traversed a waste of scrub and vine, low hills, and rain-washed gullies.

Chinquapin bushes edged the road, the polished nut dark in the centre of each open burr; the persimmon trees showed their fruit, red-gold from the first frosts; the black haw and cedar overhung the ravines; there was much sassafras, and along the plashy streams the mint grew thick and pungent-sweet.

In the deep and pure blue sky above them, fleecy clouds went past like galleons in a trade-wind.
The tobacco-roller was a taciturn man, and the boy, his son, never thought of disburdening his soul to his father.

Each had the power to change for the other the aspect of the world, but they themselves were strangers.