As for the man, there was something like a lump in his throat, but he spoke with an effort at playfulness, though his voice wavered a little: "It is right, my love.

And we will visit this nature of ours together.
It is the season now, and next week we go camping.

I want to show old friends of mine, the spirits of the forest, how fair a wife I've won." And, a few days later, there was a pretty little scene down town.
"Sportsmen's Goods," the sign above the doorway said, and in the windows were numerous wooden ducks and dainty rods of split bamboo, and glittering German silver reels and gaudy flies, and a thousand things to delight the heart of a fisherman or hunter.

Enter, a broad-shouldered gentleman and a haughty wisp of a woman, the latter a trifle embarrassed, despite her stateliness.
"How are you, Jack ?" This to the proprietor of the place, as he comes forward.
"How are you, Harlson ?" "This is Mrs.Harlson." The ceremony takes place.

"Now, Jack, here's a grave matter of business.