gony, as his swarthy foe leaped upward against the rocky shelf; a crash
of breaking glass; a flash of fierce flame bursting into red billows,
curling and seething all about him and turning the cave into a mimic
hell!

Outside could be heard the sound of a bellowing bull!

CHAPTER IV.

THE BOY.

A boy is an inverted man. Small things seem to him great and great ones
small. Trifling troubles move him to tears and serious ones pass
unnoticed. To snare a few worthless suckers in the meadow brook is to
the country boy of more importance than the gathering of a field of
grain. To play hooky and go nutting is far better than to study and fit
himself for earning a livelihood. He works at his play and makes play of
his work. He disdains boyhood and longs for manhood. In spite of his
inverted position I would rather be a boy than a man, and a country boy
than a city-bred one.

The country boy has so much the greater chance for enjoyment and is not
so soon warped by restrictions and tarnished by the sewers of vice. He
has deep forests, wide meadows and pure brooks to play in; and if his
feet grow broad from lack of shoes, he hears the song of birds, the
whispers of winds in the trees, and knows the scent of new-mown hay and
fresh water lilies, the beauty of flowers, green fields and shady woods.
He learns how apples taste eaten under the tree, nuts cracked in the
woods, sweet cider as it runs from the press, and strawberries picked in
the orchard while moist with dew. All these delights are a closed book
to the city boy. The country boy is surrounded by pure and wholesome
influences and grows to be a better man for it. The wide range of forest
and field, pure air, sweet water, plenty of sun and rain are all his,
and worth ten times the chance for life, health, enjoyment and a good
character than ever comes to the city boy. He may sooner learn to smoke
or gather a choice selection of profane and vulgar words; he may have
smaller feet and better clothes, but he often fails in attaining a
healthy body and pure mind and never knows what a royal, wide-open
chance for enjoying boyhood days he has missed. He never knows the
delight of wading barefoot down a mountain brook where the clear water
leaps over mossy ledges and where he can pull trout from every
foam-flecked pool! He never realizes the charming suspense of lying upon
the grassy bank of a meadow stream and snaring a sucker, or what fun it
is to enter a chestnut gro