n of the
dialogue.

"Man or woman, I see, for my part, no harm in the question. But do call
me Forrester, or Mark Forrester, whichever pleases you best, and not
mister, as you just now called me. I go by no other name. Mister is a
great word, and moves people quite too far off from one another. I never
have any concern with a man that I have to mister and sir. I call them
'squire because that's a title the law gives them; and when I speak to
you, I say 'squire, or Master Colleton. You may be a 'squire yourself,
but whether you are or are not, it makes no difference, for you get the
name from your father, who is. Then, ag'in, I call you master--because,
you see, you are but a youth, and have a long run to overtake my years,
few as you may think them. Besides, master is a friendly word, and comes
easy to the tongue. I never, for my part, could see the sense in mister,
except when people go out to fight, when it's necessary to do everything
a little the politest; and, then, it smells of long shot and cold
business, 'squire. 'Tisn't, to my mind, a good word among friends."

The youth smiled slightly at the distinction drawn with such nicety by
his companion, between words which he had hitherto been taught to
conceive synonymous, or nearly so; and the reasons, such as they were,
by which the woodman sustained his free use of the one to the utter
rejection of the other. He did not think it important, however, to make
up an issue on the point, though dissenting from the logic of his
companion; and contented himself simply with a repetition of the
question in which it had originated.

"Why, I take shame to answer you rightly, 'squire, seeing I am no wiser
and no better than I am; but the whole secret of the matter lies in the
handle of this little hatchet, and this I made out of a live-oak sapling
some sixteen years ago--It's much less worn than I, yet I am twice its
age, I reckon."

"You are now then about thirty-two?"

"Ay, just thirty-two. It don't take much calculating to make out that.
My own schooling, though little enough for a large man, is more than
enough to keep me from wanting help at such easy arithmetic."

With the exception of an occasional and desultory remark or two, the
conversation had reached a close. The gravity--the almost haughty
melancholy which, at intervals, appeared the prevailing characteristic
of the manners and countenance of the youth, served greatly to
discourage even the blunt freedom of