bored him unspeakably, on my special hobby, which has always been what some people call landscape gardening, but which with me is the art of laying out roads and paths and work of that kind. This friend of thirty-five years ago plainly disapproved of a man in business wasting his time on what he looked upon as mere foolishness.
One superb spring day I suggested to him that he should spend the afternoon with me (a most unusual and reckless suggestion for a business man to make in those days) and see some beautiful paths through the woods on my place which I had been planning and had about completed. I went so far as to tell him that I would give him a real treat.
"I cannot do it, John," he said, "I have an important matter of business on hand this afternoon."
"That may all be," I urged, "but it will give you no such pleasure as you'll get when you see those paths—the big tree on each side and ----"
"Go on, John, with your talk about trees and