And you get to wondering why that is, too, fur they
ain't human; and it don't stand to reason you orter
pay no attention to them, one way nor the other.
They is jest there, like trees and cricks and hills.
But I have often noticed that the things that is
jest there has got a way of seeming more friendly
than the things that has been built and put there.
You can look at a big iron bridge or a grain elevator
or a canal all day long, and if you're feeling blue it
don't help you none. It was jest put there. Or
a hay stack is the same way. But you go and lazy
around in the grass when you're down on your luck
and kind o' make remarks to a crick or a big, old
walnut tree, and before long it gets you to feeling
like it didn't make no difference how you felt,
anyhow; fur you don't amount to nothing by the
side of something that was always there. You
get to thinking how the hull world itself was always
here, and you sort o' see they ain't nothing im-
portant enough about yourself to worry about,
and presently you will go to sleep and forget
it. The doctor says to me one time them stars
ain't any different from this world, and this is
one of them. Which is a fool idea, as any one
can see. He had a lot of queer ideas like that,
Doctor Kirby had. But they ain't nothing like
sleeping out of doors nights to make you wonder
the kind of wonderings you never will get any
answer to.
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