ye needn't a-worry; his
travelling days is done."

A man with a bundle of high-class furs is a man of means in any frontier
town. The magistrate was trader, too, so they set about disposing of
their furs and buying the supplies they needed.

The day was nearly done before their new canoe was gummed and ready with
the new supplies. When dealing, old Sylvanne had a mild, quiet manner,
and a peculiar way of making funny remarks that led some to imagine he
was "easy" in business; but it was usual to find at the end that he had
lost nothing by his manners, and rival traders shunned an encounter with
Long Sylvanne of the unruffled brow.

When business was done--keen and complete--he said: "Now, I'm a goin' to
give each of ye a present," and handed out two double-bladed jackknives,
new things in those days, wonderful things, precious treasures in their
eyes, sources of endless joy; and even had they known that one marten
skin would buy a quart of them, their pleasant surprise and childish joy
would not have been in any way tempered or alloyed.

"Ye better eat with me, boys, an' start in the morning." So they joined
the miller's long, continuous family, and shared his evening meal.
Afterward as they sat for three hours and smoked on the broad porch that
looked out on the river, old Sylvanne, who had evidently taken a
fancy to Rolf, regaled them with a long, rambling talk on "fellers and
things," that was one of the most interesting Rolf had ever listened to.
At the time it was simply amusing; it was not till years after that the
lad realized by its effect on himself, its insight, and its hold on his
memory, that Si Sylvanne's talk was real wisdom. Parts of it would not
look well in print; but the rugged words, the uncouth Saxonism, the
obscene phrase, were the mere oaken bucket in which the pure and
precious waters were hauled to the surface.

"Looked like he had ye pinched when that shyster got ye in to Lyons
Falls. Wall, there's two bad places for Jack Hoag; one is where they
don't know him at all, an' take him on his looks; an' t'other is where
they know him through and through for twenty years, like we hev. A smart
rogue kin put up a false front fer a year or maybe two, but given twenty
year to try him, for and bye, summer an' winter, an' I reckon a man's
make is pretty well showed up, without no dark corners left unexplored.

"Not that I want to jedge him harsh, coz I don't know what kind o'
maggots is eatin' his inn