Wherever I stepped, wild flowers would burst into bloom as I passed, and if a gnat should happen to buzz before my face I wouldn't brush him away for fear of hurting him.

The universe and I would be at peace with each other." "Hear him! O, hear him!" exclaimed Happy Tom.

"Old Arthur grows dithyrambic and hexametrical.

He fairly distills the essence of highfalutin poetry." "I don't know that he's so far fetched," said sober Dalton.

"I feel a good deal that way myself.