The demon dog tickled his fancy amazingly.

He was somewhat older when he read "Jane Eyre" and "John Brent," and could recognize a little of their quality, but "Snarleyow" came to him at an age when there was nothing in the world to equal it.
Meanwhile the whole face of nature was changing, and the boy was necessarily keeping up with the procession of new things.

Broad meadows were where even he, a mere boy still, had seen dense woodland; there were highways, and it was far from the farmhouse door to the forests edge.

The fauna had diminished.

The bear and wolverine had gone forever.