de available by man in some classes of manufactures--mills,
for example."

"And it causes the simoon," persisted Jack, "that lifts the sand of
the desert and overwhelms entire caravans; how can you justify such
ravages?"

"I do not intend to plead the cause of either hurricanes or simoons;
but I contend that, if the wind sometimes terrifies us by disasters,
we have, on the other hand, to be grateful for the infinite good it
does. In it, as in all other phenomena of the elements, the evils are
rare and special, whilst the good is universal and constant."

Fritz, as usual, with the dogs and his rifle charged, acted as pioneer
for the caravan, now and then bringing down a bird, sometimes adding a
plant to their collection, and occasionally giving them some
information as to the state of the surrounding country.

"Father," said he, "I chased this quail into our corn-field; the grain
is lying on the ground as if it had been passed over by a roller, but
I am happy to say that it is neither broken nor uprooted."

"Now, Jack, do you see how gallantly the wind behaves, prostrating the
strong and sparing the weak? If you had been charged with the safety
of the grain, no doubt you would have placed it in the tops of the
highest trees."

"Very likely; and, until taught by experience, everybody else would
have done precisely the same thing."

"True; therefore in this, as in all other things, we should admire the
wisdom of Providence, and mistrust our own."

"Whoever would have thought of trusting the staff of human life to
such slender support as stalks of straw?"

"If grain had been produced by forests, these, when destroyed by war,
burned down by imprudence, uprooted by hurricanes, or washed away by
inundations, we should have required ages to replace."

"Very true."

"The fruits of trees are, besides, more liable to rot than those of
grain; the latter have their flowers in the form of spikes, often
bearded with prickly fibres, which not only protect them from
marauders, but likewise serve as little roofs to shelter them from the
rain; and besides, as Fritz has just told us, owing to the pliancy of
their stalks, strengthened at intervals by hard knots and the
spear-shaped form of their leaves, these plants escape the fury of the
winds."

"That," said Willis, "is like a wretched cock-boat, which often
contrives to get out of a scrape when all the others are swamped."

"Therefore," continued Becker, "their weakness