The lines of ground there were beautiful; the western light sported among them, dividing hill from hill, and crowning their heads with its bright glory.

It was the dynasty of the East, just then.

The eastern mountains sat in stately pride; and their retainers, the woods, down to the water side, glittered in the royal green and silver; for on their fresh unsullied leaves the light played with many a sheen.

The other shore was bright enough still; but the shadows were getting long and the sun was getting low, and the contrast was softly and constantly growing.
"It's pretty, aint it, Winthrop ?" said Asahel.
"Yes." "I wonder what's the reason you row so much better than Rufus -- Rufus bites his lip, and works so, and makes such a splash, -- and you don't seem as if you worked at all." "Perhaps because I am stronger," said Winthrop.
"Rufus is strong enough.

But that can't be the reason you do everything better than he does." "That don't happen to be the state of the case." "Yes it does; for you always catch the most fish, and papa said last summer he never saw any one bind and tie as fast as you did." Again silently the boat fell down along the shore, a little dark speck amidst the glow of air and water.
"How nice you look in your white jacket and trousers," said Asahel.
"I am glad to hear it," said Winthrop laughing.