he mouth of his twin if
once Tave's ire should be aroused. But his brother gave no heed and,
much to Augustus' relief, went off at a tangent.

"I heard old Judge Champney talk on these things a good many times in
his lifetime, an' he was wise, wiser'n any man here." He allowed himself
this one thrust at Mr. Wiggins and the Colonel. "He used to say: 'Tavy,
it's all in the natural course of things, and it's got to strike us here
sometime; not in my time, but in my boy's. No man of us can say he owns
God's earth, an' set up barriers an' fences, an' sometimes breastworks,
an' holler "hands off" to every man that peeks over the wall, "this here
is mine or that is ours!" because 't isn't in the natural order of
things, and what isn't in the natural order isn't going to be, Tavy.'
That's what the old Judge said to me more'n once."

"He was right, Tavy, he was right," said Quimber eagerly and earnestly.
"I can't argify, an' I can't convince; but I know he was right. I've
lived most a generation longer'n any man here, an' I've seen a thing or
two an' marked the way of nater jest like the Jedge. I've stood there
where the Rothel comes down from The Gore in its spring freshet, rarin',
tearin' down, bearin' stones an' rocks along with its current till it
strikes the lowlands; then a racin' along, catchin' up turf an' mud an'
sand, an' foamin' yaller an' brown acrost the medders, leavin' mud a
quarter of an inch thick on the lowlands; and then a-rushin' into the
lake ez if 't would turn the bottom upside down--an' jest look what
happens! Stid of kickin' up a row all along the banks it jest ain't
nowhere when you look for it! Only the lake riled for a few furlongs off
shore an' kinder humpin' up in the middle. An' arter a day or two ye
come back an' look agin, an' where's the rile? All settled to the
bottom, an' the lake as clear as a looking-glass. An' then ye look at
the medders an' ye see thet, barrin' a big boulder or two an' some stuns
thet an ox-team can cart off, an' some gullyin' out long the highroad,
they ain't been hurt a mite. An' then come 'long 'bout the fust of July,
an' ye go out an' stan' there and look for the silt--an' what d' ye see?
Why, jest thet ye're knee deep in clover an' timothy thet hez growed
thet high an' lush jest on account of thet very silt!

"Thet's the way 't is with nateral things; an' thet's what the old Jedge
meant. This furrin flood's a-comin'; an' we've got to stan' some scares
an' think mebb