A moment before, they had been only pines, only so many trees.

Now each was different, each had its place in the mind of the man who studied them with a new interest and a new enthusiasm, even though they might fall, one after another, into the maw of the saw for the same purpose.
"They are like people, _oui_!" Old Ba'tiste was gesticulating.

"They have their, what-you-say, make-ups.

The lodgepole, he is like the man who runs up and looks on when the crowd, eet gathers about some one who has been hurt.

He waits until there had been a fire, and then he comes in and grows first, along with the aspens, so he can get all the room he wants.