Far away the noise of the felling sounded, softened by distance; snowy jets of steam puffed up above the trees, the panting of a toy locomotive came on the breeze, the mean, crescendo whine of a saw-mill.
"It's the only way to do things," said Cardross again and again; "make up your mind quickly that you want to do them, then do them quickly.

I have no patience with a man who'll dawdle about a bit of property for years and finally start to improve it with a pot of geraniums after he's too old to enjoy anything except gruel.

When I plant a tree I don't plant a sapling; I get a machine and four horses and a dozen men and I put in a full-grown tree so that I can sit under it next day if I wish to and not spend thirty years waiting for it to grow.

Isn't that the way to do things, Hamil ?" Hamil said yes.

It was certainly the way to accomplish things--the modern millionaire's way; but the majority of people had to do a little waiting before they could enjoy their vine and fig-tree.
Cardross sat down beside his wife, who was reading in a hammock chair, and gazed at the new vista through a pair of field-glasses.
"Gad, Hamil!" he said with considerable feeling, "I hate to see a noble tree go down; it's like murder to me.