At a small settlement the children came out and ran along beside my wagon, laughing and asking me questions.

Some of them tried to pet the dog, but old Fred kept to his labour at the heels of Uncle Eb and looked neither to right nor left.

We stopped under a tree by the side of a narrow brook for our dinner, and one incident of that meal I think of always when I think of Uncle Eb.

It shows the manner of man he was and with what understanding and sympathy he regarded every living thing.

In rinsing his teapot he accidentally poured a bit of water on a big bumble-bee.
The poor creature struggled to lift hill, and then another downpour caught him and still another until his wings fell drenched.