der----" he began, but he did not tell me what it was that he
wondered.

Presently his thoughts returned sharply to the _Star_.

"What would you put in the paper, anyhow, David?" he asked.

"Hempfield," said I.

His eyes kindled.

"I get you," he said eagerly. "It's exactly what I say. The very spirit
of the town, the soul of the country--make the paper fairly throb with
it."

He was off! It was the first time I had seen Nort in his serious
mood--and he could be dreadfully serious, as serious as only youth knows
how to be.

"Truth!" he exclaimed fiercely. "We don't print the truth in the _Star_.
The most interesting and important things about Hempfield never get into
the paper at all. I tell you, David, we never even touch the actual
facts about Hempfield. We just fiddle around the outsides of things:
'John Smith came to town on Saturday with his blooded colt. Fine colt,
John!' Bah! Think of it--when there is a whole world of real events to
write about. Why, David, there are more wonderful and tragic and amusing
things right here in this small town than ever I saw in all my life.
When we printed the poems last week, we just scratched the surface of
the real life of Hempfield."

Nort had jumped up, thrust his hands deep in his pockets, and was
tramping up and down the room, shaking his mane like a young lion. I
confess that, for a moment, I was tempted to laugh at him--and then
suddenly I did not care at all to laugh. Something in the wild youth of
him, the bold thoughts, stirred me to the depths. The magic of youth,
waving its flag upon the Hill Formidable! The fresh runner catching up
the torch that has fallen from the slack hand of age! I have had my
dreams, too, Nort. I dreamed once----

I dreamed once of seeing the very truth of things. As I worked alone
here in my fields, with the great world all open and beautiful around
me, I said to myself, "I will be simple, I will not dodge or prevaricate
or excuse; I will see the whole of life." I confess now with some
sadness (and humour, too) that I have not mastered the wonders of this
earth, nor seen the truth of it.... I heard a catbird singing in the
bush, a friend stopped me by the roadside, there was a star in the far
heavens---- And when I looked up I was old, and Truth was vanishing
behind the hill.

Something of all this I had in my thoughts as Nort talked to me; and it
came to me, wistfully, that perhaps this burning youth might really have
in him th